summaryrefslogtreecommitdiff
path: root/8136-h/8136-h.htm
blob: 3050ca2abc43cf0e0bb1d2b243b538a9cfae4608 (plain) 
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496
497
498
499
500
501
502
503
504
505
506
507
508
509
510
511
512
513
514
515
516
517
518
519
520
521
522
523
524
525
526
527
528
529
530
531
532
533
534
535
536
537
538
539
540
541
542
543
544
545
546
547
548
549
550
551
552
553
554
555
556
557
558
559
560
561
562
563
564
565
566
567
568
569
570
571
572
573
574
575
576
577
578
579
580
581
582
583
584
585
586
587
588
589
590
591
592
593
594
595
596
597
598
599
600
601
602
603
604
605
606
607
608
609
610
611
612
613
614
615
616
617
618
619
620
621
622
623
624
625
626
627
628
629
630
631
632
633
634
635
636
637
638
639
640
641
642
643
644
645
646
647
648
649
650
651
652
653
654
655
656
657
658
659
660
661
662
663
664
665
666
667
668
669
670
671
672
673
674
675
676
677
678
679
680
681
682
683
684
685
686
687
688
689
690
691
692
693
694
695
696
697
698
699
700
701
702
703
704
705
706
707
708
709
710
711
712
713
714
715
716
717
718
719
720
721
722
723
724
725
726
727
728
729
730
731
732
733
734
735
736
737
738
739
740
741
742
743
744
745
746
747
748
749
750
751
752
753
754
755
756
757
758
759
760
761
762
763
764
765
766
767
768
769
770
771
772
773
774
775
776
777
778
779
780
781
782
783
784
785
786
787
788
789
790
791
792
793
794
795
796
797
798
799
800
801
802
803
804
805
806
807
808
809
810
811
812
813
814
815
816
817
818
819
820
821
822
823
824
825
826
827
828
829
830
831
832
833
834
835
836
837
838
839
840
841
842
843
844
845
846
847
848
849
850
851
852
853
854
855
856
857
858
859
860
861
862
863
864
865
866
867
868
869
870
871
872
873
874
875
876
877
878
879
880
881
882
883
884
885
886
887
888
889
890
891
892
893
894
895
896
897
898
899
900
901
902
903
904
905
906
907
908
909
910
911
912
913
914
915
916
917
918
919
920
921
922
923
924
925
926
927
928
929
930
931
932
933
934
935
936
937
938
939
940
941
942
943
944
945
946
947
948
949
950
951
952
953
954
955
956
957
958
959
960
961
962
963
964
965
966
967
968
969
970
971
972
973
974
975
976
977
978
979
980
981
982
983
984
985
986
987
988
989
990
991
992
993
994
995
996
997
998
999
1000
1001
1002
1003
1004
1005
1006
1007
1008
1009
1010
1011
1012
1013
1014
1015
1016
1017
1018
1019
1020
1021
1022
1023
1024
1025
1026
1027
1028
1029
1030
1031
1032
1033
1034
1035
1036
1037
1038
1039
1040
1041
1042
1043
1044
1045
1046
1047
1048
1049
1050
1051
1052
1053
1054
1055
1056
1057
1058
1059
1060
1061
1062
1063
1064
1065
1066
1067
1068
1069
1070
1071
1072
1073
1074
1075
1076
1077
1078
1079
1080
1081
1082
1083
1084
1085
1086
1087
1088
1089
1090
1091
1092
1093
1094
1095
1096
1097
1098
1099
1100
1101
1102
1103
1104
1105
1106
1107
1108
1109
1110
1111
1112
1113
1114
1115
1116
1117
1118
1119
1120
1121
1122
1123
1124
1125
1126
1127
1128
1129
1130
1131
1132
1133
1134
1135
1136
1137
1138
1139
1140
1141
1142
1143
1144
1145
1146
1147
1148
1149
1150
1151
1152
1153
1154
1155
1156
1157
1158
1159
1160
1161
1162
1163
1164
1165
1166
1167
1168
1169
1170
1171
1172
1173
1174
1175
1176
1177
1178
1179
1180
1181
1182
1183
1184
1185
1186
1187
1188
1189
1190
1191
1192
1193
1194
1195
1196
1197
1198
1199
1200
1201
1202
1203
1204
1205
1206
1207
1208
1209
1210
1211
1212
1213
1214
1215
1216
1217
1218
1219
1220
1221
1222
1223
1224
1225
1226
1227
1228
1229
1230
1231
1232
1233
1234
1235
1236
1237
1238
1239
1240
1241
1242
1243
1244
1245
1246
1247
1248
1249
1250
1251
1252
1253
1254
1255
1256
1257
1258
1259
1260
1261
1262
1263
1264
1265
1266
1267
1268
1269
1270
1271
1272
1273
1274
1275
1276
1277
1278
1279
1280
1281
1282
1283
1284
1285
1286
1287
1288
1289
1290
1291
1292
1293
1294
1295
1296
1297
1298
1299
1300
1301
1302
1303
1304
1305
1306
1307
1308
1309
1310
1311
1312
1313
1314
1315
1316
1317
1318
1319
1320
1321
1322
1323
1324
1325
1326
1327
1328
1329
1330
1331
1332
1333
1334
1335
1336
1337
1338
1339
1340
1341
1342
1343
1344
1345
1346
1347
1348
1349
1350
1351
1352
1353
1354
1355
1356
1357
1358
1359
1360
1361
1362
1363
1364
1365
1366
1367
1368
1369
1370
1371
1372
1373
1374
1375
1376
1377
1378
1379
1380
1381
1382
1383
1384
1385
1386
1387
1388
1389
1390
1391
1392
1393
1394
1395
1396
1397
1398
1399
1400
1401
1402
1403
1404
1405
1406
1407
1408
1409
1410
1411
1412
1413
1414
1415
1416
1417
1418
1419
1420
1421
1422
1423
1424
1425
1426
1427
1428
1429
1430
1431
1432
1433
1434
1435
1436
1437
1438
1439
1440
1441
1442
1443
1444
1445
1446
1447
1448
1449
1450
1451
1452
1453
1454
1455
1456
1457
1458
1459
1460
1461
1462
1463
1464
1465
1466
1467
1468
1469
1470
1471
1472
1473
1474
1475
1476
1477
1478
1479
1480
1481
1482
1483
1484
1485
1486
1487
1488
1489
1490
1491
1492
1493
1494
1495
1496
1497
1498
1499
1500
1501
1502
1503
1504
1505
1506
1507
1508
1509
1510
1511
1512
1513
1514
1515
1516
1517
1518
1519
1520
1521
1522
1523
1524
1525
1526
1527
1528
1529
1530
1531
1532
1533
1534
1535
1536
1537
1538
1539
1540
1541
1542
1543
1544
1545
1546
1547
1548
1549
1550
1551
1552
1553
1554
1555
1556
1557
1558
1559
1560
1561
1562
1563
1564
1565
1566
1567
1568
1569
1570
1571
1572
1573
1574
1575
1576
1577
1578
1579
1580
1581
1582
1583
1584
1585
1586
1587
1588
1589
1590
1591
1592
1593
1594
1595
1596
1597
1598
1599
1600
1601
1602
1603
1604
1605
1606
1607
1608
1609
1610
1611
1612
1613
1614
1615
1616
1617
1618
1619
1620
1621
1622
1623
1624
1625
1626
1627
1628
1629
1630
1631
1632
1633
1634
1635
1636
1637
1638
1639
1640
1641
1642
1643
1644
1645
1646
1647
1648
1649
1650
1651
1652
1653
1654
1655
1656
1657
1658
1659
1660
1661
1662
1663
1664
1665
1666
1667
1668
1669
1670
1671
1672
1673
1674
1675
1676
1677
1678
1679
1680
1681
1682
1683
1684
1685
1686
1687
1688
1689
1690
1691
1692
1693
1694
1695
1696
1697
1698
1699
1700
1701
1702
1703
1704
1705
1706
1707
1708
1709
1710
1711
1712
1713
1714
1715
1716
1717
1718
1719
1720
1721
1722
1723
1724
1725
1726
1727
1728
1729
1730
1731
1732
1733
1734
1735
1736
1737
1738
1739
1740
1741
1742
1743
1744
1745
1746
1747
1748
1749
1750
1751
1752
1753
1754
1755
1756
1757
1758
1759
1760
1761
1762
1763
1764
1765
1766
1767
1768
1769
1770
1771
1772
1773
1774
1775
1776
1777
1778
1779
1780
1781
1782
1783
1784
1785
1786
1787
1788
1789
1790
1791
1792
1793
1794
1795
1796
1797
1798
1799
1800
1801
1802
1803
1804
1805
1806
1807
1808
1809
1810
1811
1812
1813
1814
1815
1816
1817
1818
1819
1820
1821
1822
1823
1824
1825
1826
1827
1828
1829
1830
1831
1832
1833
1834
1835
1836
1837
1838
1839
1840
1841
1842
1843
1844
1845
1846
1847
1848
1849
1850
1851
1852
1853
1854
1855
1856
1857
1858
1859
1860
1861
1862
1863
1864
1865
1866
1867
1868
1869
1870
1871
1872
1873
1874
1875
1876
1877
1878
1879
1880
1881
1882
1883
1884
1885
1886
1887
1888
1889
1890
1891
1892
1893
1894
1895
1896
1897
1898
1899
1900
1901
1902
1903
1904
1905
1906
1907
1908
1909
1910
1911
1912
1913
1914
1915
1916
1917
1918
1919
1920
1921
1922
1923
1924
1925
1926
1927
1928
1929
1930
1931
1932
1933
1934
1935
1936
1937
1938
1939
1940
1941
1942
1943
1944
1945
1946
1947
1948
1949
1950
1951
1952
1953
1954
1955
1956
1957
1958
1959
1960
1961
1962
1963
1964
1965
1966
1967
1968
1969
1970
1971
1972
1973
1974
1975
1976
1977
1978
1979
1980
1981
1982
1983
1984
1985
1986
1987
1988
1989
1990
1991
1992
1993
1994
1995
1996
1997
1998
1999
2000
2001
2002
2003
2004
2005
2006
2007
2008
2009
2010
2011
2012
2013
2014
2015
2016
2017
2018
2019
2020
2021
2022
2023
2024
2025
2026
2027
2028
2029
2030
2031
2032
2033
2034
2035
2036
2037
2038
2039
2040
2041
2042
2043
2044
2045
2046
2047
2048
2049
2050
2051
2052
2053
2054
2055
2056
2057
2058
2059
2060
2061
2062
2063
2064
2065
2066
2067
2068
2069
2070
2071
2072
2073
2074
2075
2076
2077
2078
2079
2080
2081
2082
2083
2084
2085
2086
2087
2088
2089
2090
2091
2092
2093
2094
2095
2096
2097
2098
2099
2100
2101
2102
2103
2104
2105
2106
2107
2108
2109
2110
2111
2112
2113
2114
2115
2116
2117
2118
2119
2120
2121
2122
2123
2124
2125
2126
2127
2128
2129
2130
2131
2132
2133
2134
2135
2136
2137
2138
2139
2140
2141
2142
2143
2144
2145
2146
2147
2148
2149
2150
2151
2152
2153
2154
2155
2156
2157
2158
2159
2160
2161
2162
2163
2164
2165
2166
2167
2168
2169
2170
2171
2172
2173
2174
2175
2176
2177
2178
2179
2180
2181
2182
2183
2184
2185
2186
2187
2188
2189
2190
2191
2192
2193
2194
2195
2196
2197
2198
2199
2200
2201
2202
2203
2204
2205
2206
2207
2208
2209
2210
2211
2212
2213
2214
2215
2216
2217
2218
2219
2220
2221
2222
2223
2224
2225
2226
2227
2228
2229
2230
2231
2232
2233
2234
2235
2236
2237
2238
2239
2240
2241
2242
2243
2244
2245
2246
2247
2248
2249
2250
2251
2252
2253
2254
2255
2256
2257
2258
2259
2260
2261
2262
2263
2264
2265
2266
2267
2268
2269
2270
2271
2272
2273
2274
2275
2276
2277
2278
2279
2280
2281
2282
2283
2284
2285
2286
2287
2288
2289
2290
2291
2292
2293
2294
2295
2296
2297
2298
2299
2300
2301
2302
2303
2304
2305
2306
2307
2308
2309
2310
2311
2312
2313
2314
2315
2316
2317
2318
2319
2320
2321
2322
2323
2324
2325
2326
2327
2328
2329
2330
2331
2332
2333
2334
2335
2336
2337
2338
2339
2340
2341
2342
2343
2344
2345
2346
2347
2348
2349
2350
2351
2352
2353
2354
2355
2356
2357
2358
2359
2360
2361
2362
2363
2364
2365
2366
2367
2368
2369
2370
2371
2372
2373
2374
2375
2376
2377
2378
2379
2380
2381
2382
2383
2384
2385
2386
2387
2388
2389
2390
2391
2392
2393
2394
2395
2396
2397
2398
2399
2400
2401
2402
2403
2404
2405
2406
2407
2408
2409
2410
2411
2412
2413
2414
2415
2416
2417
2418
2419
2420
2421
2422
2423
2424
2425
2426
2427
2428
2429
2430
2431
2432
2433
2434
2435
2436
2437
2438
2439
2440
2441
2442
2443
2444
2445
2446
2447
2448
2449
2450
2451
2452
2453
2454
2455
2456
2457
2458
2459
2460
2461
2462
2463
2464
2465
2466
2467
2468
2469
2470
2471
2472
2473
2474
2475
2476
2477
2478
2479
2480
2481
2482
2483
2484
2485
2486
2487
2488
2489
2490
2491
2492
2493
2494
2495
2496
2497
2498
2499
2500
2501
2502
2503
2504
2505
2506
2507
2508
2509
2510
2511
2512
2513
2514
2515
2516
2517
2518
2519
2520
2521
2522
2523
2524
2525
2526
2527
2528
2529
2530
2531
2532
2533
2534
2535
2536
2537
2538
2539
2540
2541
2542
2543
2544
2545
2546
2547
2548
2549
2550
2551
2552
2553
2554
2555
2556
2557
2558
2559
2560
2561
2562
2563
2564
2565
2566
2567
2568
2569
2570
2571
2572
2573
2574
2575
2576
2577
2578
2579
2580
2581
2582
2583
2584
2585
2586
2587
2588
2589
2590
2591
2592
2593
2594
2595
2596
2597
2598
2599
2600
2601
2602
2603
2604
2605
2606
2607
2608
2609
2610
2611
2612
2613
2614
2615
2616
2617
2618
2619
2620
2621
2622
2623
2624
2625
2626
2627
2628
2629
2630
2631
2632
2633
2634
2635
2636
2637
2638
2639
2640
2641
2642
2643
2644
2645
2646
2647
2648
2649
2650
2651
2652
2653
2654
2655
2656
2657
2658
2659
2660
2661
2662
2663
2664
2665
2666
2667
2668
2669
2670
2671
2672
2673
2674
2675
2676
2677
2678
2679
2680
2681
2682
2683
2684
2685
2686
2687
2688
2689
2690
2691
2692
2693
2694
2695
2696
2697
2698
2699
2700
2701
2702
2703
2704
2705
2706
2707
2708
2709
2710
2711
2712
2713
2714
2715
2716
2717
2718
2719
2720
2721
2722
2723
2724
2725
2726
2727
2728
2729
2730
2731
2732
2733
2734
2735
2736
2737
2738
2739
2740
2741
2742
2743
2744
2745
2746
2747
2748
2749
2750
2751
2752
2753
2754
2755
2756
2757
2758
2759
2760
2761
2762
2763
2764
2765
2766
2767
2768
2769
2770
2771
2772
2773
2774
2775
2776
2777
2778
2779
2780
2781
2782
2783
2784
2785
2786
2787
2788
2789
2790
2791
2792
2793
2794
2795
2796
2797
2798
2799
2800
2801
2802
2803
2804
2805
2806
2807
2808
2809
2810
2811
2812
2813
2814
2815
2816
2817
2818
2819
2820
2821
2822
2823
2824
2825
2826
2827
2828
2829
2830
2831
2832
2833
2834
2835
2836
2837
2838
2839
2840
2841
2842
2843
2844
2845
2846
2847
2848
2849
2850
2851
2852
2853
2854
2855
2856
2857
2858
2859
2860
2861
2862
2863
2864
2865
2866
2867
2868
2869
2870
2871
2872
2873
2874
2875
2876
2877
2878
2879
2880
2881
2882
2883
2884
2885
2886
2887
2888
2889
2890
2891
2892
2893
2894
2895
2896
2897
2898
2899
2900
2901
2902
2903
2904
2905
2906
2907
2908
2909
2910
2911
2912
2913
2914
2915
2916
2917
2918
2919
2920
2921
2922
2923
2924
2925
2926
2927
2928
2929
2930
2931
2932
2933
2934
2935
2936
2937
2938
2939
2940
2941
2942
2943
2944
2945
2946
2947
2948
2949
2950
2951
2952
2953
2954
2955
2956
2957
2958
2959
2960
2961
2962
2963
2964
2965
2966
2967
2968
2969
2970
2971
2972
2973
2974
2975
2976
2977
2978
2979
2980
2981
2982
2983
2984
2985
2986
2987
2988
2989
2990
2991
2992
2993
2994
2995
2996
2997
2998
2999
3000
3001
3002
3003
3004
3005
3006
3007
3008
3009
3010
3011
3012
3013
3014
3015
3016
3017
3018
3019
3020
3021
3022
3023
3024
3025
3026
3027
3028
3029
3030
3031
3032
3033
3034
3035
3036
3037
3038
3039
3040
3041
3042
3043
3044
3045
3046
3047
3048
3049
3050
3051
3052
3053
3054
3055
3056
3057
3058
3059
3060
3061
3062
3063
3064
3065
3066
3067
3068
3069
3070
3071
3072
3073
3074
3075
3076
3077
3078
3079
3080
3081
3082
3083
3084
3085
3086
3087
3088
3089
3090
3091
3092
3093
3094
3095
3096
3097
3098
3099
3100
3101
3102
3103
3104
3105
3106
3107
3108
3109
3110
3111
3112
3113
3114
3115
3116
3117
3118
3119
3120
3121
3122
3123
3124
3125
3126
3127
3128
3129
3130
3131
3132
3133
3134
3135
3136
3137
3138
3139
3140
3141
3142
3143
3144
3145
3146
3147
3148
3149
3150
3151
3152
3153
3154
3155
3156
3157
3158
3159
3160
3161
3162
3163
3164
3165
3166
3167
3168
3169
3170
3171
3172
3173
3174
3175
3176
3177
3178
3179
3180
3181
3182
3183
3184
3185
3186
3187
3188
3189
3190
3191
3192
3193
3194
3195
3196
3197
3198
3199
3200
3201
3202
3203
3204
3205
3206
3207
3208
3209
3210
3211
3212
3213
3214
3215
3216
3217
3218
3219
3220
3221
3222
3223
3224
3225
3226
3227
3228
3229
3230
3231
3232
3233
3234
3235
3236
3237
3238
3239
3240
3241
3242
3243
3244
3245
3246
3247
3248
3249
3250
3251
3252
3253
3254
3255
3256
3257
3258
3259
3260
3261
3262
3263
3264
3265
3266
3267
3268
3269
3270
3271
3272
3273
3274
3275
3276
3277
3278
3279
3280
3281
3282
3283
3284
3285
3286
3287
3288
3289
3290
3291
3292
3293
3294
3295
3296
3297
3298
3299
3300
3301
3302
3303
3304
3305
3306
3307
3308
3309
3310
3311
3312
3313
3314
3315
3316
3317
3318
3319
3320
3321
3322
3323
3324
3325
3326
3327
3328
3329
3330
3331
3332
3333
3334
3335
3336
3337
3338
3339
3340
3341
3342
3343
3344
3345
3346
3347
3348
3349
3350
3351
3352
3353
3354
3355
3356
3357
3358
3359
3360
3361
3362
3363
3364
3365
3366
3367
3368
3369
3370
3371
3372
3373
3374
3375
3376
3377
3378
3379
3380
3381
3382
3383
3384
3385
3386
3387
3388
3389
3390
3391
3392
3393
3394
3395
3396
3397
3398
3399
3400
3401
3402
3403
3404
3405
3406
3407
3408
3409
3410
3411
3412
3413
3414
3415
3416
3417
3418
3419
3420
3421
3422
3423
3424
3425
3426
3427
3428
3429
3430
3431
3432
3433
3434
3435
3436
3437
3438
3439
3440
3441
3442
3443
3444
3445
3446
3447
3448
3449
3450
3451
3452
3453
3454
3455
3456
3457
3458
3459
3460
3461
3462
3463
3464
3465
3466
3467
3468
3469
3470
3471
3472
3473
3474
3475
3476
3477
3478
3479
3480
3481
3482
3483
3484
3485
3486
3487
3488
3489
3490
3491
3492
3493
3494
3495
3496
3497
3498
3499
3500
3501
3502
3503
3504
3505
3506
3507
3508
3509
3510
3511
3512
3513
3514
3515
3516
3517
3518
3519
3520
3521
3522
3523
3524
3525
3526
3527
3528
3529
3530
3531
3532
3533
3534
3535
3536
3537
3538
3539
3540
3541
3542
3543
3544
3545
3546
3547
3548
3549
3550
3551
3552
3553
3554
3555
3556
3557
3558
3559
3560
3561
3562
3563
3564
3565
3566
3567
3568
3569
3570
3571
3572
3573
3574
3575
3576
3577
3578
3579
3580
3581
3582
3583
3584
3585
3586
3587
3588
3589
3590
3591
3592
3593
3594
3595
3596
3597
3598
3599
3600
3601
3602
3603
3604
3605
3606
3607
3608
3609
3610
3611
3612
3613
3614
3615
3616
3617
3618
3619
3620
3621
3622
3623
3624
3625
3626
3627
3628
3629
3630
3631
3632
3633
3634
3635
3636
3637
3638
3639
3640
3641
3642
3643
3644
3645
3646
3647
3648
3649
3650
3651
3652
3653
3654
3655
3656
3657
3658
3659
3660
3661
3662
3663
3664
3665
3666
3667
3668
3669
3670
3671
3672
3673
3674
3675
3676
3677
3678
3679
3680
3681
3682
3683
3684
3685
3686
3687
3688
3689
3690
3691
3692
3693
3694
3695
3696
3697
3698
3699
3700
3701
3702
3703
3704
3705
3706
3707
3708
3709
3710
3711
3712
3713
3714
3715
3716
3717
3718
3719
3720
3721
3722
3723
3724
3725
3726
3727
3728
3729
3730
3731
3732
3733
3734
3735
3736
3737
3738
3739
3740
3741
3742
3743
3744
3745
3746
3747
3748
3749
3750
3751
3752
3753
3754
3755
3756
3757
3758
3759
3760
3761
3762
3763
3764
3765
3766
3767
3768
3769
3770
3771
3772
3773
3774
3775
3776
3777
3778
3779
3780
3781
3782
3783
3784
3785
3786
3787
3788
3789
3790
3791
3792
3793
3794
3795
3796
3797
3798
3799
3800
3801
3802
3803
3804
3805
3806
3807
3808
3809
3810
3811
3812
3813
3814
3815
3816
3817
3818
3819
3820
3821
3822
3823
3824
3825
3826
3827
3828
3829
3830
3831
3832
3833
3834
3835
3836
3837
3838
3839
3840
3841
3842
3843
3844
3845
3846
3847
3848
3849
3850
3851
3852
3853
3854
3855
3856
3857
3858
3859
3860
3861
3862
3863
3864
3865
3866
3867
3868
3869
3870
3871
3872
3873
3874
3875
3876
3877
3878
3879
3880
3881
3882
3883
3884
3885
3886
3887
3888
3889
3890
3891
3892
3893
3894
3895
3896
3897
3898
3899
3900
3901
3902
3903
3904
3905
3906
3907
3908
3909
3910
3911
3912
3913
3914
3915
3916
3917
3918
3919
3920
3921
3922
3923
3924
3925
3926
3927
3928
3929
3930
3931
3932
3933
3934
3935
3936
3937
3938
3939
3940
3941
3942
3943
3944
3945
3946
3947
3948
3949
3950
3951
3952
3953
3954
3955
3956
3957
3958
3959
3960
3961
3962
3963
3964
3965
3966
3967
3968
3969
3970
3971
3972
3973
3974
3975
3976
3977
3978
3979
3980
3981
3982
3983
3984
3985
3986
3987
3988
3989
3990
3991
3992
3993
3994
3995
3996
3997
3998
3999
4000
4001
4002
4003
4004
4005
4006
4007
4008
4009
4010
4011
4012
4013
4014
4015
4016
4017
4018
4019
4020
4021
4022
4023
4024
4025
4026
4027
4028
4029
4030
4031
4032
4033
4034
4035
4036
4037
4038
4039
4040
4041
4042
4043
4044
4045
4046
4047
4048
4049
4050
4051
4052
4053
4054
4055
4056
4057
4058
4059
4060
4061
4062
4063
4064
4065
4066
4067
4068
4069
4070
4071
4072
4073
4074
4075
4076
4077
4078
4079
4080
4081
4082
4083
4084
4085
4086
4087
4088
4089
4090
4091
4092
4093
4094
4095
4096
4097
4098
4099
4100
4101
4102
4103
4104
4105
4106
4107
4108
4109
4110
4111
4112
4113
4114
4115
4116
4117
4118
4119
4120
4121
4122
4123
4124
4125
4126
4127
4128
4129
4130
4131
4132
4133
4134
4135
4136
4137
4138
4139
4140
4141
4142
4143
4144
4145
4146
4147
4148
4149
4150
4151
4152
4153
4154
4155
4156
4157
4158
4159
4160
4161
4162
4163
4164
4165
4166
4167
4168
4169
4170
4171
4172
4173
4174
4175
4176
4177
4178
4179
4180
4181
4182
4183
4184
4185
4186
4187
4188
4189
4190
4191
4192
4193
4194
4195
4196
4197
4198
4199
4200
4201
4202
4203
4204
4205
4206
4207
4208
4209
4210
4211
4212
4213
4214
4215
4216
4217
4218
4219
4220
4221
4222
4223
4224
4225
4226
4227
4228
4229
4230
4231
4232
4233
4234
4235
4236
4237
4238
4239
4240
4241
4242
4243
4244
4245
4246
4247
4248
4249
4250
4251
4252
4253
4254
4255
4256
4257
4258
4259
4260
4261
4262
4263
4264
4265
4266
4267
4268
4269
4270
4271
4272
4273
4274
4275
4276
4277
4278
4279
4280
4281
4282
4283
4284
4285
4286
4287
4288
4289
4290
4291
4292
4293
4294
4295
4296
4297
4298
4299
4300
4301
4302
4303
4304
4305
4306
4307
4308
4309
4310
4311
4312
4313
4314
4315
4316
4317
4318
4319
4320
4321
4322
4323
4324
4325
4326
4327
4328
4329
4330
4331
4332
4333
4334
4335
4336
4337
4338
4339
4340
4341
4342
4343
4344
4345
4346
4347
4348
4349
4350
4351
4352
4353
4354
4355
4356
4357
4358
4359
4360
4361
4362
4363
4364
4365
4366
4367
4368
4369
4370
4371
4372
4373
4374
4375
4376
4377
4378
4379
4380
4381
4382
4383
4384
4385
4386
4387
4388
4389
4390
4391
4392
4393
4394
4395
4396
4397
4398
4399
4400
4401
4402
4403
4404
4405
4406
4407
4408
4409
4410
4411
4412
4413
4414
4415
4416
4417
4418
4419
4420
4421
4422
4423
4424
4425
4426
4427
4428
4429
4430
4431
4432
4433
4434
4435
4436
4437
4438
4439
4440
4441
4442
4443
4444
4445
4446
4447
4448
4449
4450
4451
4452
4453
4454
4455
4456
4457
4458
4459
4460
4461
4462
4463
4464
4465
4466
4467
4468
4469
4470
4471
4472
4473
4474
4475
4476
4477
4478
4479
4480
4481
4482
4483
4484
4485
4486
4487
4488
4489
4490
4491
4492
4493
4494
4495
4496
4497
4498
4499
4500
4501
4502
4503
4504
4505
4506
4507
4508
4509
4510
4511
4512
4513
4514
4515
4516
4517
4518
4519
4520
4521
4522
4523
4524
4525
4526
4527
4528
4529
4530
4531
4532
4533
4534
4535
4536
4537
4538
4539
4540
4541
4542
4543
4544
4545
4546
4547
4548
4549
4550
4551
4552
4553
4554
4555
4556
4557
4558
4559
4560
4561
4562
4563
4564
4565
4566
4567
4568
4569
4570
4571
4572
4573
4574
4575
4576
4577
4578
4579
4580
4581
4582
4583
4584
4585
4586
4587
4588
4589
4590
4591
4592
4593
4594
4595
4596
4597
4598
4599
4600
4601
4602
4603
4604
4605
4606
4607
4608
4609
4610
4611
4612
4613
4614
4615
4616
4617
4618
4619
4620
4621
4622
4623
4624
4625
4626
4627
4628
4629
4630
4631
4632
4633
4634
4635
4636
4637
4638
4639
4640
4641
4642
4643
4644
4645
4646
4647
4648
4649
4650
4651
4652
4653
4654
4655
4656
4657
4658
4659
4660
4661
4662
4663
4664
4665
4666
4667
4668
4669
4670
4671
4672
4673
4674
4675
4676
4677
4678
4679
4680
4681
4682
4683
4684
4685
4686
4687
4688
4689
4690
4691
4692
4693
4694
4695
4696
4697
4698
4699
4700
4701
4702
4703
4704
4705
4706
4707
4708
4709
4710
4711
4712
4713
4714
4715
4716
4717
4718
4719
4720
4721
4722
4723
4724
4725
4726
4727
4728
4729
4730
4731
4732
4733
4734
4735
4736
4737
4738
4739
4740
4741
4742
4743
4744
4745
4746
4747
4748
4749
4750
4751
4752
4753
4754
4755
4756
4757
4758
4759
4760
4761
4762
4763
4764
4765
4766
4767
4768
4769
4770
4771
4772
4773
4774
4775
4776
4777
4778
4779
4780
4781
4782
4783
4784
4785
4786
4787
4788
4789
4790
4791
4792
4793
4794
4795
4796
4797
4798
4799
4800
4801
4802
4803
4804
4805
4806
4807
4808
4809
4810
4811
4812
4813
4814
4815
4816
4817
4818
4819
4820
4821
4822
4823
4824
4825
4826
4827
4828
4829
4830
4831
4832
4833
4834
4835
4836
4837
4838
4839
4840
4841
4842
4843
4844
4845
4846
4847
4848
4849
4850
4851
4852
4853
4854
4855
4856
4857
4858
4859
4860
4861
4862
4863
4864
4865
4866
4867
4868
4869
4870
4871
4872
4873
4874
4875
4876
4877
4878
4879
4880
4881
4882
4883
4884
4885
4886
4887
4888
4889
4890
4891
4892
4893
4894
4895
4896
4897
4898
4899
4900
4901
4902
4903
4904
4905
4906
4907
4908
4909
4910
4911
4912
4913
4914
4915
4916
4917
4918
4919
4920
4921
4922
4923
4924
4925
4926
4927
4928
4929
4930
4931
4932
4933
4934
4935
4936
4937
4938
4939
4940
4941
4942
4943
4944
4945
4946
4947
4948
4949
4950
4951
4952
4953
4954
4955
4956
4957
4958
4959
4960
4961
4962
4963
4964
4965
4966
4967
4968
4969
4970
4971
4972
4973
4974
4975
4976
4977
4978
4979
4980
4981
4982
4983
4984
4985
4986
4987
4988
4989
4990
4991
4992
4993
4994
4995
4996
4997
4998
4999
5000
5001
5002
5003
5004
5005
5006
5007
5008
5009
5010
5011
5012
5013
5014
5015
5016
5017
5018
5019
5020
5021
5022
5023
5024
5025
5026
5027
5028
5029
5030
5031
5032
5033
5034
5035
5036
5037
5038
5039
5040
5041
5042
5043
5044
5045
5046
5047
5048
5049
5050
5051
5052
5053
5054
5055
5056
5057
5058
5059
5060
5061
5062
5063
5064
5065
5066
5067
5068
5069
5070
5071
5072
5073
5074
5075
5076
5077
5078
5079
5080
5081
5082
5083
5084
5085
5086
5087
5088
5089
5090
5091
5092
5093
5094
5095
5096
5097
5098
5099
5100
5101
5102
5103
5104
5105
5106
5107
5108
5109
5110
5111
5112
5113
5114
5115
5116
5117
5118
5119
5120
5121
5122
5123
5124
5125
5126
5127
5128
5129
5130
5131
5132
5133
5134
5135
5136
5137
5138
5139
5140
5141
5142
5143
5144
5145
5146
5147
5148
5149
5150
5151
5152
5153
5154
5155
5156
5157
5158
5159
5160
5161
5162
5163
5164
5165
5166
5167
5168
5169
5170
5171
5172
5173
5174
5175
5176
5177
5178
5179
5180
5181
5182
5183
5184
5185
5186
5187
5188
5189
5190
5191
5192
5193
5194
5195
5196
5197
5198
5199
5200
5201
5202
5203
5204
5205
5206
5207
5208
5209
5210
5211
5212
5213
5214
5215
5216
5217
5218
5219
5220
5221
5222
5223
5224
5225
5226
5227
5228
5229
5230
5231
5232
5233
5234
5235
5236
5237
5238
5239
5240
5241
5242
5243
5244
5245
5246
5247
5248
5249
5250
5251
5252
5253
5254
5255
5256
5257
5258
5259
5260
5261
5262
5263
5264
5265
5266
5267
5268
5269
5270
5271
5272
5273
5274
5275
5276
5277
5278
5279
5280
5281
5282
5283
5284
5285
5286
5287
5288
5289
5290
5291
5292
5293
5294
5295
5296
5297
5298
5299
5300
5301
5302
5303
5304
5305
5306
5307
5308
5309
5310
5311
5312
5313
5314
5315
5316
5317
5318
5319
5320
5321
5322
5323
5324
5325
5326
5327
5328
5329
5330
5331
5332
5333
5334
5335
5336
5337
5338
5339
5340
5341
5342
5343
5344
5345
5346
5347
5348
5349
5350
5351
5352
5353
5354
5355
5356
5357
5358
5359
5360
5361
5362
5363
5364
5365
5366
5367
5368
5369
5370
5371
5372
5373
5374
5375
5376
5377
5378
5379
5380
5381
5382
5383
5384
5385
5386
5387
5388
5389
5390
5391
5392
5393
5394
5395
5396
5397
5398
5399
5400
5401
5402
5403
5404
5405
5406
5407
5408
5409
5410
5411
5412
5413
5414
5415
5416
5417
5418
5419
5420
5421
5422
5423
5424
5425
5426
5427
5428
5429
5430
5431
5432
5433
5434
5435
5436
5437
5438
5439
5440
5441
5442
5443
5444
5445
5446
5447
5448
5449
5450
5451
5452
5453
5454
5455
5456
5457
5458
5459
5460
5461
5462
5463
5464
5465
5466
5467
5468
5469
5470
5471
5472
5473
5474
5475
5476
5477
5478
5479
5480
5481
5482
5483
5484
5485
5486
5487
5488
5489
5490
5491
5492
5493
5494
5495
5496
5497
5498
5499
5500
5501
5502
5503
5504
5505
5506
5507
5508
5509
5510
5511
5512
5513
5514
5515
5516
5517
5518
5519
5520
5521
5522
5523
5524
5525
5526
5527
5528
5529
5530
5531
5532
5533
5534
5535
5536
5537
5538
5539
5540
5541
5542
5543
5544
5545
5546
5547
5548
5549
5550
5551
5552
5553
5554
5555
5556
5557
5558
5559
5560
5561
5562
5563
5564
5565
5566
5567
5568
5569
5570
5571
5572
5573
5574
5575
5576
5577
5578
5579
5580
5581
5582
5583
5584
5585
5586
5587
5588
5589
5590
5591
5592
5593
5594
5595
5596
5597
5598
5599
5600
5601
5602
5603
5604
5605
5606
5607
5608
5609
5610
5611
5612
5613
5614
5615
5616
5617
5618
5619
5620
5621
5622
5623
5624
5625
5626
5627
5628
5629
5630
5631
5632
5633
5634
5635
5636
5637
5638
5639
5640
5641
5642
5643
5644
5645
5646
5647
5648
5649
5650
5651
5652
5653
5654
5655
5656
5657
5658
5659
5660
5661
5662
5663
5664
5665
5666
5667
5668
5669
5670
5671
5672
5673
5674
5675
5676
5677
5678
5679
5680
5681
5682
5683
5684
5685
5686
5687
5688
5689
5690
5691
5692
5693
5694
5695
5696
5697
5698
5699
5700
5701
5702
5703
5704
5705
5706
5707
5708
5709
5710
5711
5712
5713
5714
5715
5716
5717
5718
5719
5720
5721
5722
5723
5724
5725
5726
5727
5728
5729
5730
5731
5732
5733
5734
5735
5736
5737
5738
5739
5740
5741
5742
5743
5744
5745
5746
5747
5748
5749
5750
5751
5752
5753
5754
5755
5756
5757
5758
5759
5760
5761
5762
5763
5764
5765
5766
5767
5768
5769
5770
5771
5772
5773
5774
5775
5776
5777
5778
5779
5780
5781
5782
5783
5784
5785
5786
5787
5788
5789
5790
5791
5792
5793
5794
5795
5796
5797
5798
5799
5800
5801
5802
5803
5804
5805
5806
5807
5808
5809
5810
5811
5812
5813
5814
5815
5816
5817
5818
5819
5820
5821
5822
5823
5824
5825
5826
5827
5828
5829
5830
5831
5832
5833
5834
5835
5836
5837
5838
5839
5840
5841
5842
5843
5844
5845
5846
5847
5848
5849
5850
5851
5852
5853
5854
5855
5856
5857
5858
5859
5860
5861
5862
5863
5864
5865
5866
5867
5868
5869
5870
5871
5872
5873
5874
5875
5876
5877
5878
5879
5880
5881
5882
5883
5884
5885
5886
5887
5888
5889
5890
5891
5892
5893
5894
5895
5896
5897
5898
5899
5900
5901
5902
5903
5904
5905
5906
5907
5908
5909
5910
5911
5912
5913
5914
5915
5916
5917
5918
5919
5920
5921
5922
5923
5924
5925
5926
5927
5928
5929
5930
5931
5932
5933
5934
5935
5936
5937
5938
5939
5940
5941
5942
5943
5944
5945
5946
5947
5948
5949
5950
5951
5952
5953
5954
5955
5956
5957
5958
5959
5960
5961
5962
5963
5964
5965
5966
5967
5968
5969
5970
5971
5972
5973
5974
5975
5976
5977
5978
5979
5980
5981
5982
5983
5984
5985
5986
5987
5988
5989
5990
5991
5992
5993
5994
5995
5996
5997
5998
5999
6000
6001
6002
6003
6004
6005
6006
6007
6008
6009
6010
6011
6012
6013
6014
6015
6016
6017
6018
6019
6020
6021
6022
6023
6024
6025
6026
6027
6028
6029
6030
6031
6032
6033
6034
6035
6036
6037
6038
6039
6040
6041
6042
6043
6044
6045
6046
6047
6048
6049
6050
6051
6052
6053
6054
6055
6056
6057
6058
6059
6060
6061
6062
6063
6064
6065
6066
6067
6068
6069
6070
6071
6072
6073
6074
6075
6076
6077
6078
6079
6080
6081
6082
6083
6084
6085
6086
6087
6088
6089
6090
6091
6092
6093
6094
6095
6096
6097
6098
6099
6100
6101
6102
6103
6104
6105
6106
6107
6108
6109
6110
6111
6112
6113
6114
6115
6116
6117
6118
6119
6120
6121
6122
6123
6124
6125
6126
6127
6128
6129
6130
6131
6132
6133
6134
6135
6136
6137
6138
6139
6140
6141
6142
6143
6144
6145
6146
6147
6148
6149
6150
6151
6152
6153
6154
6155
6156
6157
6158
6159
6160
6161
6162
6163
6164
6165
6166
6167
6168
6169
6170
6171
6172
6173
6174
6175
6176
6177
6178
6179
6180
6181
6182
6183
6184
6185
6186
6187
6188
6189
6190
6191
6192
6193
6194
6195
6196
6197
6198
6199
6200
6201
6202
6203
6204
6205
6206
6207
6208
6209
6210
6211
6212
6213
6214
6215
6216
6217
6218
6219
6220
6221
6222
6223
6224
6225
6226
6227
6228
6229
6230
6231
6232
6233
6234
6235
6236
6237
6238
6239
6240
6241
6242
6243
6244
6245
6246
6247
6248
6249
6250
6251
6252
6253
6254
6255
6256
6257
6258
6259
6260
6261
6262
6263
6264
6265
6266
6267
6268
6269
6270
6271
6272
6273
6274
6275
6276
6277
6278
6279
6280
6281
6282
6283
6284
6285
6286
6287
6288
6289
6290
6291
6292
6293
6294
6295
6296
6297
6298
6299
6300
6301
6302
6303
6304
6305
6306
6307
6308
6309
6310
6311
6312
6313
6314
6315
6316
6317
6318
6319
6320
6321
6322
6323
6324
6325
6326
6327
6328
6329
6330
6331
6332
6333
6334
6335
6336
6337
6338
6339
6340
6341
6342
6343
6344
6345
6346
6347
6348
6349
6350
6351
6352
6353
6354
6355
6356
6357
6358
6359
6360
6361
6362
6363
6364
6365
6366
6367
6368
6369
6370
6371
6372
6373
6374
6375
6376
6377
6378
6379
6380
6381
6382
6383
6384
6385
6386
6387
6388
6389
6390
6391
6392
6393
6394
6395
6396
6397
6398
6399
6400
6401
6402
6403
6404
6405
6406
6407
6408
6409
6410
6411
6412
6413
6414
6415
6416
6417
6418
6419
6420
6421
6422
6423
6424
6425
6426
6427
6428
6429
6430
6431
6432
6433
6434
6435
6436
6437
6438
6439
6440
6441
6442
6443
6444
6445
6446
6447
6448
6449
6450
6451
6452
6453
6454
6455
6456
6457
6458
6459
6460
6461
6462
6463
6464
6465
6466
6467
6468
6469
6470
6471
6472
6473
6474
6475
6476
6477
6478
6479
6480
6481
6482
6483
6484
6485
6486
6487
6488
6489
6490
6491
6492
6493
6494
6495
6496
6497
6498
6499
6500
6501
6502
6503
6504
6505
6506
6507
6508
6509
6510
6511
6512
6513
6514
6515
6516
6517
6518
6519
6520
6521
6522
6523
6524
6525
6526
6527
6528
6529
6530
6531
6532
6533
6534
6535
6536
6537
6538
6539
6540
6541
6542
6543
6544
6545
6546
6547
6548
6549
6550
6551
6552
6553
6554
6555
6556
6557
6558
6559
6560
6561
6562
6563
6564
6565
6566
6567
6568
6569
6570
6571
6572
6573
6574
6575
6576
6577
6578
6579
6580
6581
6582
6583
6584
6585
6586
6587
6588
6589
6590
6591
6592
6593
6594
6595
6596
6597
6598
6599
6600
6601
6602
6603
6604
6605
6606
6607
6608
6609
6610
6611
6612
6613
6614
6615
6616
6617
6618
6619
6620
6621
6622
6623
6624
6625
6626
6627
6628
6629
6630
6631
6632
6633
6634
6635
6636
6637
6638
6639
6640
6641
6642
6643
6644
6645
6646
6647
6648
6649
6650
6651
6652
6653
6654
6655
6656
6657
6658
6659
6660
6661
6662
6663
6664
6665
6666
6667
6668
6669
6670
6671
6672
6673
6674
6675
6676
6677
6678
6679
6680
6681
6682
6683
6684
6685
6686
6687
6688
6689
6690
6691
6692
6693
6694
6695
6696
6697
6698
6699
6700
6701
6702
6703
6704
6705
6706
6707
6708
6709
6710
6711
6712
6713
6714
6715
6716
6717
6718
6719
6720
6721
6722
6723
6724
6725
6726
6727
6728
6729
6730
6731
6732
6733
6734
6735
6736
6737
6738
6739
6740
6741
6742
6743
6744
6745
6746
6747
6748
6749
6750
6751
6752
6753
6754
6755
6756
6757
6758
6759
6760
6761
6762
6763
6764
6765
6766
6767
6768
6769
6770
6771
6772
6773
6774
6775
6776
6777
6778
6779
6780
6781
6782
6783
6784
6785
6786
6787
6788
6789
6790
6791
6792
6793
6794
6795
6796
6797
6798
6799
6800
6801
6802
6803
6804
6805
6806
6807
6808
6809
6810
6811
6812
6813
6814
6815
6816
6817
6818
6819
6820
6821
6822
6823
6824
6825
6826
6827
6828
6829
6830
6831
6832
6833
6834
6835
6836
6837
6838
6839
6840
6841
6842
6843
6844
6845
6846
6847
6848
6849
6850
6851
6852
6853
6854
6855
6856
6857
6858
6859
6860
6861
6862
6863
6864
6865
6866
6867
6868
6869
6870
6871
6872
6873
6874
6875
6876
6877
6878
6879
6880
6881
6882
6883
6884
6885
6886
6887
6888
6889
6890
6891
6892
6893
6894
6895
6896
6897
6898
6899
6900
6901
6902
6903
6904
6905
6906
6907
6908
6909
6910
6911
6912
6913
6914
6915
6916
6917
6918
6919
6920
6921
6922
6923
6924
6925
6926
6927
6928
6929
6930
6931
6932
6933
6934
6935
6936
6937
6938
6939
6940
6941
6942
6943
6944
6945
6946
6947
6948
6949
6950
6951
6952
6953
6954
6955
6956
6957
6958
6959
6960
6961
6962
6963
6964
6965
6966
6967
6968
6969
6970
6971
6972
6973
6974
6975
6976
6977
6978
6979
6980
6981
6982
6983
6984
6985
6986
6987
6988
6989
6990
6991
6992
6993
6994
6995
6996
6997
6998
6999
7000
7001
7002
7003
7004
7005
7006
7007
7008
7009
7010
7011
7012
7013
7014
7015
7016
7017
7018
7019
7020
7021
7022
7023
7024
7025
7026
7027
7028
7029
7030
7031
7032
7033
7034
7035
7036
7037
7038
7039
7040
7041
7042
7043
7044
7045
7046
7047
7048
7049
7050
7051
7052
7053
7054
7055
7056
7057
7058
7059
7060
7061
7062
7063
7064
7065
7066
7067
7068
7069
7070
7071
7072
7073
7074
7075
7076
7077
7078
7079
7080
7081
7082
7083
7084
7085
7086
7087
7088
7089
7090
7091
7092
7093
7094
7095
7096
7097
7098
7099
7100
7101
7102
7103
7104
7105
7106
7107
7108
7109
7110
7111
7112
7113
7114
7115
7116
7117
7118
7119
7120
7121
7122
7123
7124
7125
7126
7127
7128
7129
7130
7131
7132
7133
7134
7135
7136
7137
7138
7139
7140
7141
7142
7143
7144
7145
7146
7147
7148
7149
7150
7151
7152
7153
7154
7155
7156
7157
7158
7159
7160
7161
7162
7163
7164
7165
7166
7167
7168
7169
7170
7171
7172
7173
7174
7175
7176
7177
7178
7179
7180
7181
7182
7183
7184
7185
7186
7187
7188
7189
7190
7191
7192
7193
7194
7195
7196
7197
7198
7199
7200
7201
7202
7203
7204
7205
7206
7207
7208
7209
7210
7211
7212
7213
7214
7215
7216
7217
7218
7219
7220
7221
7222
7223
7224
7225
7226
7227
7228
7229
7230
7231
7232
7233
7234
7235
7236
7237
7238
7239
7240
7241
7242
7243
7244
7245
7246
7247
7248
7249
7250
7251
7252
7253
7254
7255
7256
7257
7258
7259
7260
7261
7262
7263
7264
7265
7266
7267
7268
7269
7270
7271
7272
7273
7274
7275
7276
7277
7278
7279
7280
7281
7282
7283
7284
7285
7286
7287
7288
7289
7290
7291
7292
7293
7294
7295
7296
7297
7298
7299
7300
7301
7302
7303
7304
7305
7306
7307
7308
7309
7310
7311
7312
7313
7314
7315
7316
7317
7318
7319
7320
7321
7322
7323
7324
7325
7326
7327
7328
7329
7330
7331
7332
7333
7334
7335
7336
7337
7338
7339
7340
7341
7342
7343
7344
7345
7346
7347
7348
7349
7350
7351
7352
7353
7354
7355
7356
7357
7358
7359
7360
7361
7362
7363
7364
7365
7366
7367
7368
7369
7370
7371
7372
7373
7374
7375
7376
7377
7378
7379
7380
7381
7382
7383
7384
7385
7386
7387
7388
7389
7390
7391
7392
7393
7394
7395
7396
7397
7398
7399
7400
7401
7402
7403
7404
7405
7406
7407
7408
7409
7410
7411
7412
7413
7414
7415
7416
7417
7418
7419
7420
7421
7422
7423
7424
7425
7426
7427
7428
7429
7430
7431
7432
7433
7434
7435
7436
7437
7438
7439
7440
7441
7442
7443
7444
7445
7446
7447
7448
7449
7450
7451
7452
7453
7454
7455
7456
7457
7458
7459
7460
7461
7462
7463
7464
7465
7466
7467
7468
7469
7470
7471
7472
7473
7474
7475
7476
7477
7478
7479
7480
7481
7482
7483
7484
7485
7486
7487
7488
7489
7490
7491
7492
7493
7494
7495
7496
7497
7498
7499
7500
7501
7502
7503
7504
7505
7506
7507
7508
7509
7510
7511
7512
7513
7514
7515
7516
7517
7518
7519
7520
7521
7522
7523
7524
7525
7526
7527
7528
7529
7530
7531
7532
7533
7534
7535
7536
7537
7538
7539
7540
7541
7542
7543
7544
7545
7546
7547
7548
7549
7550
7551
7552
7553
7554
7555
7556
7557
7558
7559
7560
7561
7562
7563
7564
7565
7566
7567
7568
7569
7570
7571
7572
7573
7574
7575
7576
7577
7578
7579
7580
7581
7582
7583
7584
7585
7586
7587
7588
7589
7590
7591
7592
7593
7594
7595
7596
7597
7598
7599
7600
7601
7602
7603
7604
7605
7606
7607
7608
7609
7610
7611
7612
7613
7614
7615
7616
7617
7618
7619
7620
7621
7622
7623
7624
7625
7626
7627
7628
7629
7630
7631
7632
7633
7634
7635
7636
7637
7638
7639
7640
7641
7642
7643
7644
7645
7646
7647
7648
7649
7650
7651
7652
7653
7654
7655
7656
7657
7658
7659
7660
7661
7662
7663
7664
7665
7666
7667
7668
7669
7670
7671
7672
7673
7674
7675
7676
7677
7678
7679
7680
7681
7682
7683
7684
7685
7686
7687
7688
7689
7690
7691
7692
7693
7694
7695
7696
7697
7698
7699
7700
7701
7702
7703
7704
7705
7706
7707
7708
7709
7710
7711
7712
7713
7714
7715
7716
7717
7718
7719
7720
7721
7722
7723
7724
7725
7726
7727
7728
7729
7730
7731
7732
7733
7734
7735
7736
7737
7738
7739
7740
7741
7742
7743
7744
7745
7746
7747
7748
7749
7750
7751
7752
7753
7754
7755
7756
7757
7758
7759
7760
7761
7762
7763
7764
7765
7766
7767
7768
7769
7770
7771
7772
7773
7774
7775
7776
7777
7778
7779
7780
7781
7782
7783
7784
7785
7786
7787
7788
7789
7790
7791
7792
7793
7794
7795
7796
7797
7798
7799
7800
7801
7802
7803
7804
7805
7806
7807
7808
7809
7810
7811
7812
7813
7814
7815
7816
7817
7818
7819
7820
7821
7822
7823
7824
7825
7826
7827
7828
7829
7830
7831
7832
7833
7834
7835
7836
7837
7838
7839
7840
7841
7842
7843
7844
7845
7846
7847
7848
7849
7850
7851
7852
7853
7854
7855
7856
7857
7858
7859
7860
7861
7862
7863
7864
7865
7866
7867
7868
7869
7870
7871
7872
7873
7874
7875
7876
7877
7878
7879
7880
7881
7882
7883
7884
7885
7886
7887
7888
7889
7890
7891
7892
7893
7894
7895
7896
7897
7898
7899
7900
7901
7902
7903
7904
7905
7906
7907
7908
7909
7910
7911
7912
7913
7914
7915
7916
7917
7918
7919
7920
7921
7922
7923
7924
7925
7926
7927
7928
7929
7930
7931
7932
7933
7934
7935
7936
7937
7938
7939
7940
7941
7942
7943
7944
7945
7946
7947
7948
7949
7950
7951
7952
7953
7954
7955
7956
7957
7958
7959
7960
7961
7962
7963
7964
7965
7966
7967
7968
7969
7970
7971
7972
7973
7974
7975
7976
7977
7978
7979
7980
7981
7982
7983
7984
7985
7986
7987
7988
7989
7990
7991
7992
7993
7994
7995
7996
7997
7998
7999
8000
8001
8002
8003
8004
8005
8006
8007
8008
8009
8010
8011
8012
8013
8014
8015
8016
8017
8018
8019
8020
8021
8022
8023
8024
8025
8026
8027
8028
8029
8030
8031
8032
8033
8034
8035
8036
8037
8038
8039
8040
8041
8042
8043
8044
8045
8046
8047
8048
8049
8050
8051
8052
8053
8054
8055
8056
8057
8058
8059
8060
8061
8062
8063
8064
8065
8066
8067
8068
8069
8070
8071
8072
8073
8074
8075
8076
8077
8078
8079
8080
8081
8082
8083
8084
8085
8086
8087
8088
8089
8090
8091
8092
8093
8094
8095
8096
8097
8098
8099
8100
8101
8102
8103
8104
8105
8106
8107
8108
8109
8110
8111
8112
8113
8114
8115
8116
8117
8118
8119
8120
8121
8122
8123
8124
8125
8126
8127
8128
8129
8130
8131
8132
8133
8134
8135
8136
8137
8138
8139
8140
8141
8142
8143
8144
8145
8146
8147
8148
8149
8150
8151
8152
8153
8154
8155
8156
8157
8158
8159
8160
8161
8162
8163
8164
8165
8166
8167
8168
8169
8170
8171
8172
8173
8174
8175
8176
8177
8178
8179
8180
8181
8182
8183
8184
8185
8186
8187
8188
8189
8190
8191
8192
8193
8194
8195
8196
8197
8198
8199
8200
8201
8202
8203
8204
8205
8206
8207
8208
8209
8210
8211
8212
8213
8214
8215
8216
8217
8218
8219
8220
8221
8222
8223
8224
8225
8226
8227
8228
8229
8230
8231
8232
8233
8234
8235
8236
8237
8238
8239
8240
8241
8242
8243
8244
8245
8246
8247
8248
8249
8250
8251
8252
8253
8254
8255
8256
8257
8258
8259
8260
8261
8262
8263
8264
8265
8266
8267
8268
8269
8270
8271
8272
8273
8274
8275
8276
8277
8278
8279
8280
8281
8282
8283
8284
8285
8286
8287
8288
8289
8290
8291
8292
8293
8294
8295
8296
8297
8298
8299
8300
8301
8302
8303
8304
8305
8306
8307
8308
8309
8310
8311
8312
8313
8314
8315
8316
8317
8318
8319
8320
8321
8322
8323
8324
8325
8326
8327
8328
8329
8330
8331
8332
8333
8334
8335
8336
8337
8338
8339
8340
8341
8342
8343
8344
8345
8346
8347
8348
8349
8350
8351
8352
8353
8354
8355
8356
8357
8358
8359
8360
8361
8362
8363
8364
8365
8366
8367
8368
8369
8370
8371
8372
8373
8374
8375
8376
8377
8378
8379
8380
8381
8382
8383
8384
8385
8386
8387
8388
8389
8390
8391
8392
8393
8394
8395
8396
8397
8398
8399
8400
8401
8402
8403
8404
8405
8406
8407
8408
8409
8410
8411
8412
8413
8414
8415
8416
8417
8418
8419
8420
8421
8422
8423
8424
8425
8426
8427
8428
8429
8430
8431
8432
8433
8434
8435
8436
8437
8438
8439
8440
8441
8442
8443
8444
8445
8446
8447
8448
8449
8450
8451
8452
8453
8454
8455
8456
8457
8458
8459
8460
8461
8462
8463
8464
8465
8466
8467
8468
8469
8470
8471
8472
8473
8474
8475
8476
8477
8478
8479
8480
8481
8482
8483
8484
8485
8486
8487
8488
8489
8490
8491
8492
8493
8494
8495
8496
8497
8498
8499
8500
8501
8502
8503
8504
8505
8506
8507
8508
8509
8510
8511
8512
8513
8514
8515
8516
8517
8518
8519
8520
8521
8522
8523
8524
8525
8526
8527
8528
8529
8530
8531
8532
8533
8534
8535
8536
8537
8538
8539
8540
8541
8542
8543
8544
8545
8546
8547
8548
8549
8550
8551
8552
8553
8554
8555
8556
8557
8558
8559
8560
8561
8562
8563
8564
8565
8566
8567
8568
8569
8570
8571
8572
8573
8574
8575
8576
8577
8578
8579
8580
8581
8582
8583
8584
8585
8586
8587
8588
8589
8590
8591
8592
8593
8594
8595
8596
8597
8598
8599
8600
8601
8602
8603
8604
8605
8606
8607
8608
8609
8610
8611
8612
8613
8614
8615
8616
8617
8618
8619
8620
8621
8622
8623
8624
8625
8626
8627
8628
8629
8630
8631
8632
8633
8634
8635
8636
8637
8638
8639
8640
8641
8642
8643
8644
8645
8646
8647
8648
8649
8650
8651
8652
8653
8654
8655
8656
8657
8658
8659
8660
8661
8662
8663
8664
8665
8666
8667
8668
8669
8670
8671
8672
8673
8674
8675
8676
8677
8678
8679
8680
8681
8682
8683
8684
8685
8686
8687
8688
8689
8690
8691
8692
8693
8694
8695
8696
8697
8698
8699
8700
8701
8702
8703
8704
8705
8706
8707
8708
8709
8710
8711
8712
8713
8714
8715
8716
8717
8718
8719
8720
8721
8722
8723
8724
8725
8726
8727
8728
8729
8730
8731
8732
8733
8734
8735
8736
8737
8738
8739
8740
8741
8742
8743
8744
8745
8746
8747
8748
8749
8750
8751
8752
8753
8754
8755
8756
8757
8758
8759
8760
8761
8762
8763
8764
8765
8766
8767
8768
8769
8770
8771
8772
8773
8774
8775
8776
8777
8778
8779
8780
8781
8782
8783
8784
8785
8786
8787
8788
8789
8790
8791
8792
8793
8794
8795
8796
8797
8798
8799
8800
8801
8802
8803
8804
8805
8806
8807
8808
8809
8810
8811
8812
8813
8814
8815
8816
8817
8818
8819
8820
8821
8822
8823
8824
8825
8826
8827
8828
8829
8830
8831
8832
8833
8834
8835
8836
8837
8838
8839
8840
8841
8842
8843
8844
8845
8846
8847
8848
8849
8850
8851
8852
8853
8854
8855
8856
8857
8858
8859
8860
8861
8862
8863
8864
8865
8866
8867
8868
8869
8870
8871
8872
8873
8874
8875
8876
8877
8878
8879
8880
8881
8882
8883
8884
8885
8886
8887
8888
8889
8890
8891
8892
8893
8894
8895
8896
8897
8898
8899
8900
8901
8902
8903
8904
8905
8906
8907
8908
8909
8910
8911
8912
8913
8914
8915
8916
8917
8918
8919
8920
8921
8922
8923
8924
8925
8926
8927
8928
8929
8930
8931
8932
8933
8934
8935
8936
8937
8938
8939
8940
8941
8942
8943
8944
8945
8946
8947
8948
8949
8950
8951
8952
8953
8954
8955
8956
8957
8958
8959
8960
8961
8962
8963
8964
8965
8966
8967
8968
8969
8970
8971
8972
8973
8974
8975
8976
8977
8978
8979
8980
8981
8982
8983
8984
8985
8986
8987
8988
8989
8990
8991
8992
8993
8994
8995
8996
8997
8998
8999
9000
9001
9002
9003
9004
9005
9006
9007
9008
9009
9010
9011
9012
9013
9014
9015
9016
9017
9018
9019
9020
9021
9022
9023
9024
9025
9026
9027
9028
9029
9030
9031
9032
9033
9034
9035
9036
9037
9038
9039
9040
9041
9042
9043
9044
9045
9046
9047
9048
9049
9050
9051
9052
9053
9054
9055
9056
9057
9058
9059
9060
9061
9062
9063
9064
9065
9066
9067
9068
9069
9070
9071
9072
9073
9074
9075
9076
9077
9078
9079
9080
9081
9082
9083
9084
9085
9086
9087
9088
9089
9090
9091
9092
9093
9094
9095
9096
9097
9098
9099
9100
9101
9102
9103
9104
9105
9106
9107
9108
9109
9110
9111
9112
9113
9114
9115
9116
9117
9118
9119
9120
9121
9122
9123
9124
9125
9126
9127
9128
9129
9130
9131
9132
9133
9134
9135
9136
9137
9138
9139
9140
9141
9142
9143
9144
9145
9146
9147
9148
9149
9150
9151
9152
9153
9154
9155
9156
9157
9158
9159
9160
9161
9162
9163
9164
9165
9166
9167
9168
9169
9170
9171
9172
9173
9174
9175
9176
9177
9178
9179
9180
9181
9182
9183
9184
9185
9186
9187
9188
9189
9190
9191
9192
9193
9194
9195
9196
9197
9198
9199
9200
9201
9202
9203
9204
9205
9206
9207
9208
9209
9210
9211
9212
9213
9214
9215
9216
9217
9218
9219
9220
9221
9222
9223
9224
9225
9226
9227
9228
9229
9230
9231
9232
9233
9234
9235
9236
9237
9238
9239
9240
9241
9242
9243
9244
9245
9246
9247
9248
9249
9250
9251
9252
9253
9254
9255
9256
9257
9258
9259
9260
9261
9262
9263
9264
9265
9266
9267
9268
9269
9270
9271
9272
9273
9274
9275
9276
9277
9278
9279
9280
9281
9282
9283
9284
9285
9286
9287
9288
9289
9290
9291
9292
9293
9294
9295
9296
9297
9298
9299
9300
9301
9302
9303
9304
9305
9306
9307
9308
9309
9310
9311
9312
9313
9314
9315
9316
9317
9318
9319
9320
9321
9322
9323
9324
9325
9326
9327
9328
9329
9330
9331
9332
9333
9334
9335
9336
9337
9338
9339
9340
9341
9342
9343
9344
9345
9346
9347
9348
9349
9350
9351
9352
9353
9354
9355
9356
9357
9358
9359
9360
9361
9362
9363
9364
9365
9366
9367
9368
9369
9370
9371
9372
9373
9374
9375
9376
9377
9378
9379
9380
9381
9382
9383
9384
9385
9386
9387
9388
9389
9390
9391
9392
9393
9394
9395
9396
9397
9398
9399
9400
9401
9402
9403
9404
9405
9406
9407
9408
9409
9410
9411
9412
9413
9414
9415
9416
9417
9418
9419
9420
9421
9422
9423
9424
9425
9426
9427
9428
9429
9430
9431
9432
9433
9434
9435
9436
9437
9438
9439
9440
9441
9442
9443
9444
9445
9446
9447
9448
9449
9450
9451
9452
9453
9454
9455
9456
9457
9458
9459
9460
9461
9462
9463
9464
9465
9466
9467
9468
9469
9470
9471
9472
9473
9474
9475
9476
9477
9478
9479
9480
9481
9482
9483
9484
9485
9486
9487
9488
9489
9490
9491
9492
9493
9494
9495
9496
9497
9498
9499
9500
9501
9502
9503
9504
9505
9506
9507
9508
9509
9510
9511
9512
9513
9514
9515
9516
9517
9518
9519
9520
9521
9522
9523
9524
9525
9526
9527
9528
9529
9530
9531
9532
9533
9534
9535
9536
9537
9538
9539
9540
9541
9542
9543
9544
9545
9546
9547
9548
9549
9550
9551
9552
9553
9554
9555
9556
9557
9558
9559
9560
9561
9562
9563
9564
9565
9566
9567
9568
9569
9570
9571
9572
9573
9574
9575
9576
9577
9578
9579
9580
9581
9582
9583
9584
9585
9586
9587
9588
9589
9590
9591
9592
9593
9594
9595
9596
9597
9598
9599
9600
9601
9602
9603
9604
9605
9606
9607
9608
9609
9610
9611
9612
9613
9614
9615
9616
9617
9618
9619
9620
9621
9622
9623
9624
9625
9626
9627
9628
9629
9630
9631
9632
9633
9634
9635
9636
9637
9638
9639
9640
9641
9642
9643
9644
9645
9646
9647
9648
9649
9650
9651
9652
9653
9654
9655
9656
9657
9658
9659
9660
9661
9662
9663
9664
9665
9666
9667
9668
9669
9670
9671
9672
9673
9674
9675
9676
9677
9678
9679
9680
9681
9682
9683
9684
9685
9686
9687
9688
9689
9690
9691
9692
9693
9694
9695
9696
9697
9698
9699
9700
9701
9702
9703
9704
9705
9706
9707
9708
9709
9710
9711
9712
9713
9714
9715
9716
9717
9718
9719
9720
9721
9722
9723
9724
9725
9726
9727
9728
9729
9730
9731
9732
9733
9734
9735
9736
9737
9738
9739
9740
9741
9742
9743
9744
9745
9746
9747
9748
9749
9750
9751
9752
9753
9754
9755
9756
9757
9758
9759
9760
9761
9762
9763
9764
9765
9766
9767
9768
9769
9770
9771
9772
9773
9774
9775
9776
9777
9778
9779
9780
9781
9782
9783
9784
9785
9786
9787
9788
9789
9790
9791
9792
9793
9794
9795
9796
9797
9798
9799
9800
9801
9802
9803
9804
9805
9806
9807
9808
9809
9810
9811
9812
9813
9814
9815
9816
9817
9818
9819
9820
9821
9822
9823
9824
9825
9826
9827
9828
9829
9830
9831
9832
9833
9834
9835
9836
9837
9838
9839
9840
9841
9842
9843
9844
9845
9846
9847
9848
9849
9850
9851
9852
9853
9854
9855
9856
9857
9858
9859
9860
9861
9862
9863
9864
9865
9866
9867
9868
9869
9870
9871
9872
9873
9874
9875
9876
9877
9878
9879
9880
9881
9882
9883
9884
9885
9886
9887
9888
9889
9890
9891
9892
9893
9894
9895
9896
9897
9898
9899
9900
9901
9902
9903
9904
9905
9906
9907
9908
9909
9910
9911
9912
9913
9914
9915
9916
9917
9918
9919
9920
9921
9922
9923
9924
9925
9926
9927
9928
9929
9930
9931
9932
9933
9934
9935
9936
9937
9938
9939
9940
9941
9942
9943
9944
9945
9946
9947
9948
9949
9950
9951
9952
9953
9954
9955
9956
9957
9958
9959
9960
9961
9962
9963
9964
9965
9966
9967
9968
9969
9970
9971
9972
9973
9974
9975
9976
9977
9978
9979
9980
9981
9982
9983
9984
9985
9986
9987
9988
9989
9990
9991
9992
9993
9994
9995
9996
9997
9998
9999
10000
10001
10002
10003
10004
10005
10006
10007
10008
10009
10010
10011
10012
10013
10014
10015
10016
10017
10018
10019
10020
10021
10022
10023
10024
10025
10026
10027
10028
10029
10030
10031
10032
10033
10034
10035
10036
10037
10038
10039
10040
10041
10042
10043
10044
10045
10046
10047
10048
10049
10050
10051
10052
10053
10054
10055
10056
10057
10058
10059
10060
10061
10062
10063
10064
10065
10066
10067
10068
10069
10070
10071
10072
10073
10074
10075
10076
10077
10078
10079
10080
10081
10082
10083
10084
10085
10086
10087
10088
10089
10090
10091
10092
10093
10094
10095
10096
10097
10098
10099
10100
10101
10102
10103
10104
10105
10106
10107
10108
10109
10110
10111
10112
10113
10114
10115
10116
10117
10118
10119
10120
10121
10122
10123
10124
10125
10126
10127
10128
10129
10130
10131
10132
10133
10134
10135
10136
10137
10138
10139
10140
10141
10142
10143
10144
10145
10146
10147
10148
10149
10150
10151
10152
10153
10154
10155
10156
10157
10158
10159
10160
10161
10162
10163
10164
10165
10166
10167
10168
10169
10170
10171
10172
10173
10174
10175
10176
10177
10178
10179
10180
10181
10182
10183
10184
10185
10186
10187
10188
10189
10190
10191
10192
10193
10194
10195
10196
10197
10198
10199
10200
10201
10202
10203
10204
10205
10206
10207
10208
10209
10210
10211
10212
10213
10214
10215
10216
10217
10218
10219
10220
10221
10222
10223
10224
10225
10226
10227
10228
10229
10230
10231
10232
10233
10234
10235
10236
10237
10238
10239
10240
10241
10242
10243
10244
10245
10246
10247
10248
10249
10250
10251
10252
10253
10254
10255
10256
10257
10258
10259
10260
10261
10262
10263
10264
10265
10266
10267
10268
10269
10270
10271
10272
10273
10274
10275
10276
10277
10278
10279
10280
10281
10282
10283
10284
10285
10286
10287
10288
10289
10290
10291
10292
10293
10294
10295
10296
10297
10298
10299
10300
10301
10302
10303
10304
10305
10306
10307
10308
10309
10310
10311
10312
10313
10314
10315
10316
10317
10318
10319

<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN">
<html>
<head>
<meta name="generator" content="HTML Tidy, see www.w3.org">
<title>Henry Fielding, by G.M. Godden</title>
<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content=
"text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1">
<meta name="GENERATOR" content="Arachnophilia 5.1">
<meta name="FORMATTER" content="Arachnophilia 5.1">
<style type="text/css">
  <!--
 BODY{Color: #000000;Background-Color: #FFFFFF;Font-Family: Garamond, Times, Serif;
Margin-Left: 5%; Margin-Right: 10%;}
 H1{Font-Family: Arial, Helvetica, Sans-Serif;Font-Size: 140%;Text-Align: center;Margin-Top: 2em ;}
 H2{Font-Family: Arial, Helvetica, Sans-Serif;Font-Size: 120%;Text-Align: center;Margin-Top: 2em ;}
 H3{Font-Family: Arial, Helvetica, Sans-Serif;Text-Align: center;}
 P{Text-Align: justify;}
 .footnotes{Font-Family: Arial, Helvetica, Sans-Serif;Font-Size: 90%;}
 .quoted{Margin-Left: 10%;}
 .centered{Text-Align: center;}
  A:link {color: #000066}
  A:visited {color: #006666}
  A:hover {color: #000000}
  A:active {color: #FF0000}
  A.footnote{Font-Size: 70%;Text-Align: center;Vertical-Align: top;}
  -->

</style>
</head>
<body>


<pre>

The Project Gutenberg EBook of Henry Fielding: A Memoir, by G. M. Godden

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
www.gutenberg.org.  If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.

Title: Henry Fielding: A Memoir

Author: G. M. Godden

Posting Date: February 21, 2015 [EBook #8136]
Release Date: May, 2005
First Posted: June 17, 2003

Language: English

Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HENRY FIELDING: A MEMOIR ***




Produced by Charles Aldarondo, Tiffany Vergon, Robert
Connal and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.






</pre>


<p class="centered"><a name="i336"><img src="images/336.jpg" alt=
"Henry Fielding" width="399" height="500"></a></p>

<h1>HENRY FIELDING</h1>

<h2><em>A MEMOIR</em><br>
INCLUDING NEWLY DISCOVERED LETTERS<br>
AND RECORDS WITH ILLUSTRATIONS<br>
FROM CONTEMPORARY PRINTS</h2>

<p><br>
</p>

<h2>BY</h2>

<h2>G. M. GODDEN</h2>

<p><br>
</p>

<p class="quoted">"I am a man myself, and my heart is interested in
whatever can befall the rest of mankind."<br>
 JOSEPH ANDREWS.</p>

<h2>PREFACE</h2>

<p>New material alone could justify any attempt to supplement the
<em>Fielding</em> of Mr Austin Dobson. Such material has now come
to light, and together with reliable facts collected by previous
biographers, forms the subject matter of the present volume. As
these pages are concerned with Fielding the man, and not only with
Fielding the most original if not the greatest of English
novelists, literary criticism has been avoided; but all incidents,
disclosed by hitherto unpublished documents, or found hidden in the
columns of contemporary newspapers, which add to our knowledge of
Fielding's personality, have been given.</p>

<p>The new material includes records of Fielding's childhood;
documents concerning his estate in Dorsetshire; the date and place,
hitherto undiscovered, of that central event in his life, the death
of his beloved wife, whose memorial was to be the imperishable
figure of "Sophia Western"; letters, now first published, adding to
our knowledge of his energies in social and legislative reform, and
of the circumstances of his life; many extracts from the columns of
the daily press of the period; notices, hitherto overlooked, from
his contemporaries; and details from the unexplored archives of the
Middlesex Records concerning his strenuous work as a London
magistrate. The few letters by Fielding already known to exist have
been doubled in number; and a reason for the extraordinary rarity
of these letters has been found in the unfortunate destruction,
many years ago, of much of his correspondence. The charm of the one
intimate letter that we possess from the pen of the 'Father of the
English Novel,' that written to his brother John, during the voyage
to Lisbon, enhances regret at the loss of these letters.</p>

<p>Among the contemporary prints now first reproduced that entitled
the <em>Conjurors</em> is of special interest, as being the only
sketch of Fielding, drawn during his lifetime, known to exist.
Rough as it is, the characteristic figure of the man, as described
by his contemporaries and drawn from memory in Hogarth's familiar
plate, is perfectly apparent. The same characteristics may be
distinguished in a small figure of the novelist introduced into the
still earlier political cartoon, entitled the <em>Funeral of
Faction</em>.</p>

<p>Such in brief are the reasons for the existence of this volume.
It remains to express my warmest acknowledgment of Mr Austin
Dobson's unfailing counsel and assistance. My thanks are also due
to Mr Ernest Fielding for permission to reproduce the miniature
which appears as the frontispiece; to Mr Aubrey Court, of the House
of Lords; to Mr E. S. W. Hart, for his help throughout the
necessary researches among the Middlesex Records; to Mrs Deane of
Gillingham; and to Mr Frederick Shum of Bath. And I am indebted to
Mr Sidney Colvin, Keeper of the Department of Prints and Drawings
in the British Museum, in regard to almost every one of the
thirty-two rare prints and cartoons now reproduced.</p>

<p>G. M. GODDEN.</p>

<p><em>October</em> 26, 1909.</p>

<h2>CONTENTS</h2>

<p><a href="#chapter1">CHAPTER I</a><br>
YOUTH</p>

<p><a href="#chapter2">CHAPTER II</a><br>
PLAY-HOUSE BARD</p>

<p><a href="#chapter3">CHAPTER III</a><br>
MARRIAGE</p>

<p><a href="#chapter4">CHAPTER IV</a><br>
POLITICAL PLAYS</p>

<p><a href="#chapter5">CHAPTER V</a><br>
HOMESPUN DRAMA</p>

<p><a href="#chapter6">CHAPTER VI</a><br>
BAR STUDENT--JOURNALIST</p>

<p><a href="#chapter7">CHAPTER VII</a><br>
COUNSELLOR FIELDING</p>

<p><a href="#chapter8">CHAPTER VIII</a><br>
<em>Joseph Andrews</em></p>

<p><a href="#chapter9">CHAPTER IX</a><br>
THE <em>Miscellanies</em> AND <em>Jonathan Wild</em></p>

<p><a href="#chapter10">CHAPTER X</a><br>
PATRIOTIC JOURNALISM</p>

<p><a href="#chapter11">CHAPTER XI</a><br>
<em>Tom Jones</em></p>

<p><a href="#chapter12">CHAPTER XII</a><br>
MR JUSTICE FIELDING</p>

<p><a href="#chapter13">CHAPTER XIII</a><br>
FIELDING AND LEGISLATION</p>

<p><a href="#chapter14">CHAPTER XIV</a><br>
<em>Amelia</em></p>

<p><a href="#chapter15">CHAPTER XV</a><br>
JOURNALIST AND MAGISTRATE</p>

<p><a href="#chapter16">CHAPTER XVI</a><br>
POOR LAW REFORM</p>

<p><a href="#chapter17">CHAPTER XVII</a><br>
VOYAGE TO LISBON--DEATH</p>

<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2>

<p><em>From photographs by Marie Léon</em>.</p>

<p><a href="#i336">Henry Fielding</a><br>
<em>From a miniature now in the possession of Mr Ernest
Fielding.</em></p>

<p><a href="#i340">Sharpham House, showing the room in which
Fielding was born</a><br>
<em>from a print published in 1826</em>.</p>

<p><a href="#i370">Sir Henry Gould</a><br>
<em>From a mezzotint by J. Hardy</em>.</p>

<p><a href="#i341">Eton--1742</a><br>
<em>From an engraving of a drawing by Cozens</em>.</p>

<p><a href="#i342">Anne Oldfield</a><br>
<em>From a mezzotint of a painting by J. Richardson</em>.</p>

<p><a href="#i337">Leyden--1727</a><br>
<em>From an engraving of a drawing by C. Pronk</em>.</p>

<p><a href="#i339">Kitty Clive as Philida</a><br>
<em>From a mezzotint of a painting by Veter van Bleeck, junr.
1735.</em></p>

<p><a href="#i338">Frontispiece to Fielding's "Tom Thumb"</a><br>
<em>By Hogarth</em>.</p>

<p><a href="#i344">The Close, Salisbury--1798</a><br>
<em>From an acquatint of a drawing by E. Dayes</em>.</p>

<p><a href="#i343">Charlcombe Church, near Bath</a><br>
<em>From an engraving of a drawing made in 1784</em>.</p>

<p><a href="#i345">Fielding's house, East Stour,
Dorsetshire</a><br>
<em>From a print published in Hutchins' "History of Dorsetshire,"
1813</em>.</p>

<p><a href="#i346">Sir Robert Walpole--1740</a><br>
<em>From a contemporary cartoon</em>.</p>

<p><a href="#i347">"Pasquin"</a><br>
<em>From a cartoon depicting a scene in "Pasquin" in which
Harlequinades, etc., triumph aver legitimate drama. Pope is leaving
a box. The Signature "W. Hogarth" is doubtful</em>.</p>

<p><a href="#i348">Cartoon celebrating the success of
"Pasquin"</a><br>
<em>From a contemporary cartoon showing Fielding, supported by
Shakespeare, receiving an ample reward, while to Harlequin and his
other opponents is accorded a halter</em>.</p>

<p><a href="#i349">The Little Theatre in the Haymarket</a><br>
<em>From an engraving by Dale, showing the demolition of the Little
Theatre in 1821</em>.</p>

<p><a href="#i350">The Green Room, Drury Lane</a><br>
<em>From the painting by Hogarth, in the possession of Sir Edward
Tennant</em>.</p>

<p><a href="#i351">The Temple--1738</a><br>
<em>From an engraving of a drawing by J. Nicholas</em>.</p>

<p><a href="#i352">Henry Fielding holding the Banner of the
"Champion" newspaper</a><br>
<em>From a contemporary cartoon showing Sir Robert Walpole laughing
at the "Funeral" of an Opposition Motion in Parliament</em>.</p>

<p><a href="#i353">Cartoon showing Fielding, in Wig and Gown, as a
supporter of the Opposition</a><br>
<em>From a print of 1741</em>.</p>

<p><a href="#i354">Henry Fielding reading at the Bedford
Arms</a><br>
<em>From the frontispiece to Sir John Fielding's "Jests."</em></p>

<p><a href="#i355">Assignment for "Joseph Andrews"</a><br>
<em>From the autograph now in the South Kensington Museum</em>.</p>

<p><a href="#i356">Beaufort Buildings, Strand, in 1725</a><br>
<em>From a watercolour drawing by Paul Sandby, 1725</em>.</p>

<p><a href="#i357">Prior Park, near Bath, the seat of Ralph Allen,
1750</a><br>
<em>From an engraving of a contemporary drawing</em>.</p>

<p><a href="#i359">George, First Baron Lyttelton</a><br>
<em>From a portrait by an unknown artist</em>.</p>

<p><a href="#i369">Theatre Ticket for Fielding's "Mock
Doctor"</a><br>
<em>The signature "W. Hogarth" is doubtful</em>.</p>

<p><a href="#i358">Lady Mary Wortley Montagu--1710</a><br>
<em>From an engraving by Caroline Watson, from a miniature in the
possession of the Marquis of Bute</em>.</p>

<p><a href="#i360">The Bow Street Police Court, Sir John Fielding
presiding</a><br>
<em>From the "Newgate Calendar"</em>, 1795.</p>

<p><a href="#i361">Edward Moore</a><br>
<em>From a frontispiece in Chalmers' "British Essayists"</em>
1817.</p>

<p><a href="#i362">Sir John Fielding</a><br>
<em>From a mezzotint of a painting by Nathaniel Hone, R.A.</em></p>

<p><a href="#i363">Ralph Allen</a><br>
<em>From a chalk drawing by W. Hoare, R.A.</em></p>

<p><a href="#i364">Henry Fielding</a><br>
<em>From an engraving of a pen and ink sketch, made by Hogarth
after Fielding's death</em>.</p>

<p><a href="#i365">Henry Fielding, defending Betty Canning from her
accusers, the Lord Mayor, Dr Hill, and the Gipsy</a><br>
<em>From a contemporary print, now first reproduced, and the only
known sketch of Fielding made during his lifetime</em>.</p>

<p><a href="#i366">Justice Saunders Welch</a><br>
<em>From an engraving of a sketch by Hogarth</em>.</p>

<p><a href="#i367">Ryde--1795</a><br>
<em>From an engraving of a drawing by Charles Tomkins</em>.</p>

<p><a href="#i368">Lisbon--1793</a><br>
<em>From a mezzotint of a drawing by Noel</em>.</p>

<p>The design on the cover is a copy, slightly enlarged, of an
impression of Fielding's seal, attached to an autograph letter in
the British Museum.</p>

<h1>HENRY FIELDING</h1>

<h2><a name="chapter1"></a>CHAPTER I<br>
<br>
YOUTH</h2>

<p class="quoted">"I shall always be so great a pedant as to call a
man of no learning a man of no education."<br>
 &nbsp;&nbsp;--<em>Amelia</em>.</p>

<p>Henry Fielding was born at Sharpham Park, near Glastonbury, on
the 22nd of April 1707. His birth-room, a room known as the
Harlequin Chamber, looked out over the roof of a building which
once was the private chapel of the abbots of Glastonbury; for
Sharpham Park possessed no mean history. Built in the sixteenth
century by that distinguished prelate, scholar, and courtier Abbot
Richard Beere, the house had boasted its chapel, hall, parlour,
chambers, storehouses and offices; its fishponds and orchards; and
a park in which might be kept some four hundred head of deer. It
was in this fair demesne that the aged, pious, and benevolent Abbot
Whiting, Abbot Richard's successor, was seized by the king's
commissioners, and summarily hung, drawn, and quartered on the top
of the neighbouring Tor Hill. Sharpham thereupon "devolved" upon
the crown; but the old house remained, standing in peaceful
seclusion where the pleasant slope of Polden Hill overlooks the
Somersetshire moors, till the birth of the 'father of the English
Novel' brought a lasting distinction to the domestic buildings of
Abbot Beere. In the accompanying print, published in 1826, the
little window of the Harlequin Chamber may be seen, above the low
roofs of the abbots' chapel.</p>

<p class="centered"><a name="i340"><img src="images/340.jpg" alt=
"Sharpham House, showing the room in which Fielding was born"
width="577" height="500"></a></p>

<p>That Henry Fielding should have been born among buildings raised
by Benedictine hands is not incongruous; for no man ever more
heartily preached and practised the virtue of open-handed charity;
none was more ready to scourge the vices of arrogance, cruelty and
avarice; no English novelist has left us brighter pictures of
innocence and goodness. And it was surely a happy stroke of that
capricious Fortune to whom Fielding so often refers, to allot a
Harlequin Chamber for the birth of the author of nineteen comedies;
and yet more appropriate to the robust genius of the Comic Epic was
the accident that placed on the wall, beneath the window of his
birth-room, a jovial jest in stone. For here some sixteenth-century
humorist had displayed the arms of Abbot Beere in the form of a
convivial rebus or riddle--to wit, a cross and two beer
flagons.</p>

<p>Soon after the Civil Wars, Sharpham passed into the hands of the
'respectable family' of Gould. By the Goulds the house was
considerably enlarged; and, at the beginning of the eighteenth
century, was in the possession of a distinguished member of the
family, Sir Henry Gould, Knight, and Judge of the King's Bench. Sir
Henry had but two children, a son Davidge Gould, and a daughter
Sarah. This only daughter married a well-born young soldier, the
Hon. Edmund Fielding; a marriage which, according to family
assertions, was without the consent of her parents and "contrary to
their good <a name="fnref1-1">likeing</a>." <a class="footnote"
href="#fn1-1">1</a> And it was in the old home of the Somersetshire
Goulds that the eldest son of this marriage, Henry Fielding, was
born.</p>

<p>Thus on the side of his mother, Sarah Gould, Fielding belonged
to just that class of well-established country squires whom later
he was to immortalise in the beautiful and benevolent figure of
Squire Allworthy, and in the boisterous, brutal, honest Western.
And the description of Squire Allworthy's "venerable" house, with
its air of grandeur "that struck you with awe," its position on the
sheltered slope of a hill enjoying "a most charming prospect of the
valley beneath," its surroundings of a wild and beautiful park,
well-watered meadows fed with sheep, the ivy-grown ruins of an old
abbey, and far-off hills and sea, preserves, doubtless, the
features of the ancient and stately domain owned by the novelist's
grandfather.</p>

<p>If it was to the 'respectable' Goulds that Fielding owed many of
his rural and administrative characteristics, such as that
practical zeal and ability which made him so excellent a
magistrate, it is in the family of his father that we find
indications of those especial qualities of vigour, of courage, of
the generous and tolerant outlook of the well-born man of the
world, that characterise Henry Fielding. And it is also in these
Fielding ancestors that something of the reputed wildness of their
brilliant kinsman may be detected.</p>

<p>For in her wilful choice of Edmund Fielding for a husband, Sir
Henry Gould's only daughter brought, assuredly, a disturbing
element into the quiet Somersetshire home. The young man was of
distinguished birth, even if he was not, as once asserted, of the
blood royal of <a name="fnref1-2">the</a> Hapsburgs. <a class=
"footnote" href="#fn1-2">2</a> His ancestor, Sir John Fielding, had
received a knighthood for bravery in the French wars of the
fourteenth century. A Sir Everard Fielding led a Lancastrian army
during the Wars of the Roses. Sir William, created Earl of Denbigh,
fell fighting for the king in the Civil Wars, where, says
Clarendon, "he engaged with singular courage in all enterprises of
danger"; a phrase which recalls the description of Henry Fielding
"that difficulties only roused him to struggle through them with a
peculiar spirit and magnanimity." Lord Denbigh fell, covered with
wounds, when fighting as a volunteer in Prince Rupert's troop;
while his eldest son, Basil, then a mere youth, fought as hotly for
the Parliament. Lord Denbigh's second son, who like his father was
a devoted loyalist, received a peerage, being created Earl of
Desmond; and two of his sons figure in a wild and tragic story
preserved by Pepys. "In our street," says the Diarist, writing in
1667, "at the Three Tuns Tavern I find a great hubbub; and what was
it but two brothers had fallen out and one killed the other. And
who s'd. they be but the two Fieldings; one whereof, Bazill, was
page to my Lady Sandwich; and he hath killed the other, himself
being very drunk, and so is sent to Newgate." It was a brother of
these unhappy youths, John Fielding, a royal chaplain and Canon of
Salisbury, who by his marriage with a Somersetshire lady, became
father of Edmund Fielding.</p>

<p>Such was Henry Fielding's ancestry, and it cannot be too much
insisted on that, throughout all the vicissitudes of his life, he
was ever a man of breeding, no less than a man of wit. "His manners
were so gentlemanly," said his friend Mrs Hussey, "that even with
the lower classes with which he frequently condescended to chat,
such as Sir Roger de Coverley's old friends, the Vauxhall watermen,
they seldom outstepped the limits of propriety." And a similar
recognition comes from the hand of a great, and not too friendly,
critic. To "the very last days of his life," wrote Thackeray, "he
retained a grandeur of air, and although worn down by disease his
aspect and presence imposed respect on the people around him."</p>

<p>This Denbigh ancestry recalls a pleasant example of Fielding's
wit, preserved in a story told by his son, and recorded in the
pages of that voluminous eighteenth-century anecdotist, John
Nichols. "Henry Fielding," says Nichols, "being once in company
with the Earl of Denbigh, and the conversation's turning on
Fielding's being of the Denbigh family, the Earl asked the reason
why they spelt their names differently; the Earl's family doing it
with the E first (Feilding), and Mr Henry Fielding with the I first
(Fielding). 'I cannot tell, my Lord,' answered Harry, 'except it be
that my branch of the family were the first that knew how to
spell.'"</p>

<p>In accordance with the fighting traditions of his race, Edmund
Fielding went into the army; his name appearing as an ensign in the
1st Foot Guards. Also, as became a Fielding, he distinguished
himself, we are told, in the "Wars against France with much Bravery
and Reputation"; and it was probably owing to active service abroad
that the birth of his eldest son took place in his wife's old
Somersetshire home. The date fits in well enough with the campaigns
of Ramilies, Oudennarde and Malplaquet. Soon after Henry's birth,
however, his father had doubtless left the Low Countries, for,
about 1709, he appears as purchasing the colonelcy of an Irish
Regiment. This regiment was ordered, in 1710, to Spain; but before
that year the colonel and his wife and son had a separate home
provided for them, by the care of Sir Henry Gould. At what precise
date is uncertain, but some time before 1710, Sir Henry had
purchased an estate at East Stour in Dorsetshire, consisting of
farms and lands of the value of £4750, intending to settle some or
the whole of the same on his daughter and her children. And
already, according to a statement by the colonel, the old judge had
placed his son-in-law in possession of some or all of this
purchase, sending him oxen to plough his ground, and promising him
a "Dairye of Cows." Sir Henry moreover had, said his son-in-law,
declared his intention "to spend the vacant Remainder of his life,"
sometimes with his daughter, her husband, and children at Stour,
and sometimes with his son Davidge, presumably at Sharpham. But in
March, 1710, Sir Henry's death frustrated his planned retirement in
the Vale of Stour; although three years later, in 1713, his
intentions regarding a Dorsetshire home for his daughter were
carried out by the <a name="fnref1-3">conveyance</a> to her <a
class="footnote" href="#fn1-3">3</a> and her children of the Stour
estate, for her sole enjoyment. The legal documents are careful to
recite that the rents and profits should be paid to Mrs Fielding or
her children, and her receipt given, and that the said Edmund
"should have nothing to do nor intermeddle therewith."</p>

<p>In this settlement of the East Stour farms, to the greater part
of which Henry Fielding, then six years old, would be joint heir
with his sisters, Colonel Fielding himself seems to have had to pay
no less than £1750, receiving therefor "a portion of the said
lands." So by 1713 both Edmund Fielding and his wife were settled,
as no inconsiderable landowners, among the pleasant meadows of
Stour; and there for the next five years Henry's early childhood
was passed. Indeed, Mrs Fielding must have been at Stour when her
eldest son was but three years old, for the baptism of a daughter,
Sarah, appears in the Stour registers in November 1710. This entry
is followed by the baptism of Anne in 1713, of Beatrice in 1714, of
Edmund in 1716, and by the death of Anne in the last-named year,
Henry being then nine years old.</p>

<p>According to Arthur Murphy, Fielding's earliest and too often
inaccurate biographer, the boy received "the first rudiments of his
education at home, under the care of the Revd. Mr Oliver." Mr
Oliver was the curate of Motcombe, a neighbouring village; and we
have the authority of Murphy and of Hutchins, the historian of
Dorset, for finding 'a very humorous and striking portrait' of this
pedagogue in the Rev. Mr Trulliber, the pig-breeding parson of
<em>Joseph Andrews</em>. If this be so, Harry Fielding's first
tutor at Stour was of a figure eminently calculated to foster the
comic genius of his pupil. "He" (Trulliber), wrote that pupil, some
thirty years later, "was indeed one of the largest Men you should
see, and could have acted the part of Sir <em>John Falstaff</em>
without stuffing. Add to this, that the Rotundity of his Belly was
considerably increased by the shortness of his Stature, his shadow
ascending very near as far in height when he lay on his Back, as
when he stood on his Legs. His Voice was loud and hoarse, and his
Accents extremely broad; to complete the whole he had a Stateliness
in his Gait when he walked, not unlike that of a Goose, only he
stalked slower." It appears that the widow of the Motcombe curate
denied the alleged portrait; but the house where Mr Oliver lived,
"seemed to accord with Fielding's description ... and an old woman
who remembered him observed that 'he dearly loved a bit of good
victuals, and a drop of drink.'" Bearing in mind the great
novelist's own earnest declaration that he painted "not men but
manners," we may fairly assume that his Dorsetshire tutor belonged
to that class of coarse farmer-parson so justly satirised in the
person of Trulliber. According to another sketch of Fielding's
life, his early education was also directed by the rector of Stour
Provost, "his <a name="fnref1-4">Parson</a> Adams."<a class=
"footnote" href="#fn1-4">4</a></p>

<p>While Harry Fielding was thus learning his first rudiments, his
father, the colonel, seems to have been engaged in less useful
pursuits in London. The nature of these pursuits appears from a
<em>Bill of Complaint</em>, which by a happy chance has been
preserved, between "Edmund Fielding of East Stour, Dorsetshire,"
and one Robert Midford, pretending to be a captain of the army. <a
name="fnref1-5">In</a> this <em>Bill</em> <a class="footnote" href=
"#fn1-5">5</a> the said Edmund declares that in 1716, being then
resident in London, he often frequented Princes Coffee-house in the
Parish of St James. At Princes he found his company sought by the
reputed Captain Robert Midford, who "prevailed upon him to play a
game called 'Faro' for a small matter of diversion, but by degrees
drew him on to play for larger sums, and by secret and fraudulent
means obtained very large sums, in particular notes and bonds for
£500." Further, the colonel entered into a bond of £200 to one Mrs
Barbara Midford, "sister or pretended sister of the said Robert";
and so finally was threatened with outlawry by 'Captain' Midford
for, presumably, payment of these debts. How Colonel Edmund finally
escaped from the clutches of these rogues does not appear; but it
is clear enough that his Dorsetshire meadows were a safer place
than Princes Coffee-house for a gentleman who could lose £500 at
faro to a masquerading army captain. Also Sir Henry Gould's wisdom
becomes apparent, in bequeathing his daughter an inheritance with
which her husband was to have "nothing to doe."</p>

<p>In 1718, two years after Colonel Fielding's experience at
Princes, Mrs Fielding died, leaving six young children to her
husband's care, two sons and four daughters, Henry, the eldest
being but eleven years old. Her death is recorded in the East Stour
registers as follows:--"Sarah, Wife of the Hon. Edmund Fielding
Esqre. and daughter of Sir Henry Gould Kt. April 18 1718."</p>

<p>About this time (the dates vary between 1716 and 1719) Edmund
Fielding was appointed Colonel of the Invalids, an appointment
which he appears to have held until his death. And within two years
of the death of his first wife, Colonel Fielding must have married
again, for in 1720 we find him and his then wife, <em>Anne</em>,
selling some 153 acres with messuages, barns and gardens, in East
and West Stour, to one Awnsham Churchill, Esquire. What relation,
if any, this land had to the property of the colonel's late wife
and her children does not appear.</p>

<p>Some time in 1719, the year after his mother's death, or early
in 1720, Henry was sent to Eton, as appears from his father's
statement, made in February 1721, that his eldest son "who is now
upwards of thirteen yeares old is and for more than a yeare last
past hath been maintained ... at Eaton schoole, the yearely expence
whereof costs ... upwards of £60." And the boy must have been well
away from the atmosphere of his home, in these first years after
his mother's death, if the allegations of his grandmother, old Lady
Gould, may be believed.</p>

<p class="centered"><a name="i370"><img src="images/370.jpg" alt=
"Sir Henry Gould" width="354" height="500"></a></p>

<p>These hitherto unknown records of Henry Fielding's boyhood are
to be found in the proceedings of a Chancery suit begun by Lady
Gould, on behalf of her six grandchildren, <a name=
"fnref1-6">Henry</a>, Edmund, <a class="footnote" href=
"#fn1-6">6</a> Katherine, Ursula, Sarah and Beatrice, three years
after the death of their mother--namely, on the 10th of February
1721, and instituted in the name of Henry Fielding as complainant.
Lady Gould opens her grandchildren's case with a comprehensive
indictment of her son-in-law. After reciting that her daughter
Sarah had married Edmund Fielding "without the consent of her
Father or Mother and contrary to their good likeing," Lady Gould
mentions her husband's bequest to their daughter, Sarah Fielding,
of £3000 in trust to be laid out in the purchase of lands for the
benefit of her and her children "with direction that the said
Edmund Fielding should have nothing to do nor intermeddle
therewith." And how Sir Henry did in his lifetime purchase
"Eastover" estate for his daughter, but died before the trust was
completed; and that in 1713 his trustees, Edmund Fielding
consenting, settled the said estate upon trust for Sarah Fielding
and her children after her, the rents and profits to be paid for
her, and acknowledged by her receipt "without her Husband." And
that if Sarah Fielding died intestate the estate be divided among
her children. The bill then shows that Sarah Fielding did die
intestate; and that then Henry and his sisters and brother "being
all Infants of tender years and uncapable of managing their own
affairs and to take Care thereof, well hoped that ... their
Trustees would have taken Care to receive the Rents of the said
premises," and have applied the same for their maintenance and
education. One of these trustees, we may note, was Henry Fielding's
uncle, Davidge Gould. This reasonable hope of the six "Infants" was
however, according to their grandmother, wholly disappointed. For
their uncle Davidge and his co-trustee, one William Day, allowed
Edmund Fielding to receive the rents, nay "entered into a
Combination and Confederacy to and with the said Edmund Fielding,"
refusing to intermeddle with the said trust, whereby the children
were in great danger of losing their means of maintenance and
education. And this was by no means all. Lady Gould proceeds to
point out that her son-in-law had, since his wife's death,
"intermarried with one ... Rapha ... Widow an Italian a Person of
the Roman Catholick Profession who has severall children of her own
and one who kept an eating House in London, and not at all fitt to
have the care of [the complainants'] Education and has now two
daughters in a Monastery beyond Sea." It is not difficult to
conceive the attitude of Lady Gould of Sharpham Park to an Italian
widow who kept an eating-house; but worse yet, in the view of those
'No Popery' days, was to follow. "Not only so," says her ladyship,
"the said Edmund Fielding ... threatens to take your [complainants]
from school into his own custody altho' [their] said Grandmother
has taken a House in the City of New Sarum with an intent to have
[her granddaughters] under her Inspection and where ... Katherine,
Ursula and Sarah are now at school"; and "the said Mr Fielding doth
give out in speeches that he will do with [the complainants] what
he thinks fitt, and has openly commended the Manner of Education of
young persons in Monasteryes."</p>

<p>This comprehensive indictment against Colonel Fielding received
a prompt counter, the "Severall Answere of Edmund Fielding Esqre
... to the Bill of Complaint of Henry Fielding, Katherine Fielding,
Ursula Fielding, Sarah Fielding, and Beatrice Fielding, Infants, by
Dame Sarah Gould, their Grandmother and next Friend," being dated
February 23 1721, but thirteen days after Lady Gould had opened her
attack. Out of "a dutiful Regard to the said Lady Gould his
Mother-in-Law," Colonel Fielding declares himself unwilling to
"Controvert anything with her further than of necessity." But he
submits that, in the matter of his marriage, he was "afterwards
well approved of and received" by Sir Henry Gould and his family;
that he was also so happy as to be in favour with Lady Gould "till
he marryed with his now wife"; which he believes "has Occasioned
some Jealosye and Displeasure in the Lady Gould, tho' without Just
Grounds." Edmund Fielding then draws a pastoral picture of himself
in occupation of the East Stour estate, placed there by his
father-in-law; of his oxen and dairy; and of the judge's intention
of spending half the remainder of his days with his son-in-law on
this Dorsetshire farm. He admits his share in the trust settlement
after Sir Henry's death; and points out that his brother-in-law,
Davidge Gould, made him pay heavily on a portion of the estate. And
he believes that, as his wife died intestate, all his children are
"Intituled to the said Estate in Equall proportions."</p>

<p>Then follows the colonel's main defence. His eldest son Henry
not being yet fourteen years of age, he has, ever since the death
of his wife, continued in possession of the premises, taking the
rents and profits thereof, which amount to about £150; and he
positively declares that he has expended more annually on the
maintenance and education of the said complainants, ever since the
death of their mother, than the clear income of the said estate
amounts to, and that he shall continue to take "a Tender and
affectionate care of all his said Children." Further, he professes
himself a "protestant of the Communion of the Church of England,"
and asserts that he shall and will breed his said children
Protestants of that communion. He protests that his second wife is
not an Italian; nor did she keep an eating-house. He suggests that
Lady Gould took her house at Salisbury "as well with an Intent to
convenience herselfe by liveing in a Towne" as for the inspection
of his children. He "denyeth that he ever Comended the Manner of
Education of young persons in monasterys if it be meant in Respect
of Religion." Finally, he says that he has spent much money on
improving the estate; that the income from the estate is hardly
sufficient to maintain his children according to their station in
the world since he is "nearly related to many Noble Familys"; and
he "veryly believes in his conscience he can better provide for his
said Children by reason of his relation to and Interest in the said
noble Familys than their said Grandmother (who is now in an
advanced age, being seventy yeares old or thereabouts)."</p>

<p>Here, it is plain, was a very pretty family quarrel. No man
likes his mother-in-law to say that he has married the keeper of an
Italian eating-house, especially if the fact is correct; or that he
is perverting his young children's trust money. Neither was Lady
Gould likely to be pacified by her son-in-law's remark that she was
now "in an advanced age"; while his suggestion that his "noble"
family would be of far more advantage to his children than that of
the respectable Goulds would have the added sting of undeniable
truth.</p>

<p>The next extant move in the fray bears date five months later,
July 18 1721, and includes a petition by 'Dame Sarah Gould' that
the children be not removed from the places where they then were
until the case be heard; and Lady Gould adds that if the children's
persons or estates be "under ye management or power of ye said Mr
Fielding and his now wife ye Estate would not be managed to ye best
advantage and their Education would not be taken care of and there
would be a great hazard that ye children might be perverted to ye
Romish Religion." Then follows an order in Chancery, under the same
date, "that ye eldest son of ye Defend't. Fielding ... be continued
at Eaton School where he now is and that ye rest of ye children be
continued where they now are."</p>

<p>The next document merely records the inclusion of Henry's
five-year-old brother Edmund among the plaintiffs. And this is
followed by a brief Chancery order of November 30 1721, that "ye,
plaintiff Henry Fielding who is not [<em>sic</em>] at Eaton Schoole
be at liberty to go to ye said Dame Sarah Gould, his Grandmother
and next friend during ye usual time of recess from School at
Xmas."</p>

<p>After these Christmas holidays spent by Henry Fielding with Lady
Gould, doubtless at her house in Salisbury, the Chancery records
pass on to the April following, 1722, when the boy's uncle and
trustee Davidge Gould makes a statement "sworn at Sharpham Park,"
which concludes that the witness hears and believes that Edmund
Fielding "has already three children by his present wife who is
reputed to be of the Romish church." In this same month comes
another order from the court that Henry be at liberty to leave Eton
for the Whitsun holidays 1722, and to go to Lady Gould's house. In
May Edmund Fielding appears as "of the Parish of Saint James, in
the County of Middlesex," and also as his children's "next Friend
and Guardian." But two days later the long suit is concluded by the
decision of the court, and here Colonel Fielding is, as heretofore,
defendant, Lady Gould being the children's "next friend."</p>

<p>The case came before the Lord Chancellor on the 28th of May
1722, and was "debated in the presence of learned Counsels." The
trust was upheld, and Edmund Fielding was required to deliver
possession of the estate, rendering account of the rents and
profits thereof since the death of his first wife; but he was to
have "any and what" allowance for improvements, and for the
children's maintenance and education. And it was further ordered
that the children then at school continue at such schools till
further order, and that "upon any breaking up at ye usuall times
they do go and reside with ye Lady Gould their Grandmother that
they may not be under the influence of ye Defendant Fielding's
Wife, who appeared to be a <a name="fnref1-7">papist</a>." <a
class="footnote" href="#fn1-7">7</a></p>

<p>So Lady Gould, for all her seventy years, won her case at every
point. And Colonel Edmund Fielding did not only lose the
guardianship of his six children, and the administration of their
estate. For there was, we learn, in court, during the hearing, one
Mrs Cottington, the plaintiffs aunt, "alleadging that there was a
debt of £700 due from ye Defendant Fielding to her"; which debt she
offered should be applied for the benefit of her nephews and
nieces. Whereupon the court ordered that if Mrs Cottington proved
the same, a Master in Chancery should purchase therewith lands to
be settled for the "Infants" in like manner as the trust
estate.</p>

<p>It may be only a coincidence, but £700 is the sum specifically
mentioned in the proceedings brought by Colonel Fielding in October
1722, five months after the loss of his Chancery suit, against the
cardsharper, Robert Midford, who was then apparently threatening
him with outlawry for the recovery of the gambling debt begun, as
we have seen, at Princes' Coffee-house six years before. Had the
colonel borrowed the £700 from Mrs Cottington, with intent to
discharge those debts; and, on being brought to law by her (on her
nephews' and nieces' behalf) for that debt, did it occur to him to
escape from the clutches of the psuedo "Captain" Midford by
pleading, as he now does in this Bill of 1722, that he "was
tricked," and also "that gaming is illegal"? The latter plea has
something of unconscious humour in the mouth of a gentleman who had
lately lost £500 at faro. With this last echo of the coffee-house
of St James's, and of the colonel's financial difficulties, that
brave soldier, if somewhat reckless gambler, the Hon. Edmund
Fielding vanishes from sight, as far as the life of his eldest son
is concerned.</p>

<p>At the triumphant conclusion of his grandmother's suit Henry
Fielding would be just fifteen years of age, and it is impossible
not to wonder what side he took in these spirited family conflicts.
No evidence, however, on such points appears in the dry legal
documents; and all that we have for guide as to the effect in this
impressionable time of his boyhood of the long months of contest,
and of his strictly ordered holidays with his grandmother, is the
declaration on the one hand that "filial piety ... his nearest
relations agree was a shining part of his character," and on the
other, the undeniably strong Protestant bias that appears in his
writing. Of his aunt, Mrs Cottington, we get one later glimpse,
when in 1723 she is made his trustee, in place of his uncle,
Davidge Gould, Mrs Cottington being then resident in Salisbury. At
the end of the following year, however, in December 1724, Davidge
Gould resumes his trusteeship, and with the record of that fact the
disclosures yielded by these ancient parchments as to Henry
Fielding's stormy boyhood come to an end.</p>

<p>From these records it becomes possible to gain some idea of the
surroundings of the great novelist's early youth. Before his
mother's death, indeed, when he was a boy of eleven, we already
knew him as suffering the rough jurisdiction of his Trulliberian
tutor, Parson Oliver of Motcombe village, and perhaps as under the
wise and kindly guidance of the good scholar-parson, who was later
to win the affection and respect of thousands of readers under the
name of "Parson Adams." But now, for the first time, we learn of
the disastrous second marriage by which Colonel Fielding, within
two years of his first wife's death, placed a lady of at least
disputable social standing at the head of his household, and one,
moreover, whose Faith roused the bitter religious animosities of
that day. What wonder that the old Lady Gould strove fiercely to
remove Henry Fielding, and his sisters and young brother, from East
Stour, when a Madame Rasa was installed in her daughter's place.
And accordingly, as we have seen, even before the conclusion of the
suit, Henry was provisionally ordered by the Court of Chancery to
spend his holidays with his grandmother. Fielding would then be
fourteen years old; and the judge's decision six months later that
future holidays should be passed with Lady Gould, away from the
influence of the second Mrs Fielding, doubtless severed the lad's
connection with his dubious stepmother for the next six years. His
home life, then, during the latter part of his Eton schooling would
be under Lady Gould's care; and was probably spent at
Salisbury.</p>

<p class="centered"><a name="i341"><img src="images/341.jpg" alt=
"Eton--1742" width="671" height="500"></a></p>

<p>Of his Eton life, from his entrance at the school, when twelve
years old, we know practically nothing. From the absence of his
name on the college lists, it may be inferred that he was an
Oppidan. It is said that he gave "distinguished proofs of strong
and peculiar parts"; and that he left the school with a good
reputation as a classical scholar. And it is not surprising to
learn that here, as he himself tells us, his vigorous energies made
acquaintance with that 'birchen altar' at which most of the best
blood in England has been disciplined. "And thou," he cries, "O
Learning (for without thy Assistance nothing pure, nothing correct,
can Genius produce) do thou guide my Pen. Thee, in thy favourite
Fields, where the limpid gently rolling <em>Thames</em> washes thy
<em>Etonian</em> banks, in early Youth I have worshipped. To thee
at thy birchen Altar, with true <em>Spartan</em> Devotion, I have
sacrificed my <a name="fnref1-8">Blood</a>." <a class="footnote"
href="#fn1-8">8</a> That the sacrifice was not made in vain appears
from the reputation with which Fielding left Eton of being
"uncommonly versed in the Greek authors and an early master of the
Latin classics"; and also from the yet better evidence of his own
pages. Long after these boyish days we find him, in the words of
"The man of the Hill," thus eloquently acknowledging the debt of
humanity, and doubtless his own, to those inestimable treasures
bequeathed to the world by ancient Greece: "These Authors, though
they instructed me in no Science by which Men may promise to
themselves to acquire the least Riches, or worldly Power, taught
me, however, the Art of despising the highest Acquisitions of both.
They elevate the Mind, and steel and harden it against the
capricious Invasions of Fortune. They not only instruct in the
Knowledge of Wisdom, but confirm Men in her Habits, and demonstrate
plainly, that this must be our Guide, if we propose ever to arrive
at the greatest worldly Happiness; or to defend ourselves, with any
tolerable Security, against the Misery which everywhere surrounds
and <a name="fnref1-9">invests</a> us." <a class="footnote" href=
"#fn1-9">9</a> And that this was no mere figure of speech appears
from that touching picture which Murphy has left us of the
brilliant wit, the 'wild' Harry Fielding, when under the pressure
of sickness and poverty, quietly reading the <em>De
Consolations</em> of Cicero. His Plato accompanied him on the last
sad voyage to Lisbon; and his library, when catalogued for sale on
behalf of his widow and children, contained over one hundred and
forty volumes of the Greek and Latin classics.</p>

<p>Thus, supreme student and master as he was of "the vast
authentic book of nature," there is abundant proof that Fielding
fulfilled his own axiom that a "good share of learning" is
necessary to the equipment of a novelist. Let the romance writer's
natural parts be what they may, learning, he declared, "must fit
them for use, must direct them in it, lastly must contribute part
at least of the <a name="fnref1-10">materials</a>." <a class=
"footnote" href="#fn1-10">10</a> Looking back on such utterances by
the 'father of the English Novel,' written at the full height of
his power, it is but natural to wonder if the boy's eager
application to Greek and Latin drudgery had in it something of
half-conscious preparation for the great part he was destined to
play in the history of English literature.</p>

<p>It is clear that Henry Fielding flung his characteristic
energies zealously into the acquirement of the classical learning
proffered him at Eton; but a fine scholarship, great possession
though it be, was not the only gain of his Eton years. Here, says
Murphy in his formal eighteenth-century phrasing, young Fielding
had "the advantage of being early known to many of the first people
in the kingdom, namely Lord Lyttelton, Mr Fox, Mr Pitt, Sir Charles
Hanbury Williams, and the late Mr Winnington, etc."</p>

<p>Of these companions at Eton, George Lyttelton, afterwards known
as the "good Lord Lyttelton," statesman and orator, stands foremost
by virtue of the generous warmth of a friendship continued
throughout the novelist's chequered life. To Lyttelton <em>Tom
Jones</em> was dedicated; it was his generosity, as generously
acknowledged, that supplied Fielding, for a time, with the very
means of subsistence; and to him was due the appointment,
subsequently discharged with so much zealous labour, of Magistrate
for Westminster and Middlesex. It is recorded that George
Lyttelton's school exercises "were recommended as models to his
schoolfellows." Another Eton friend, Thomas Winnington, made some
figure in the Whig political world of the day; he was accredited by
Horace Walpole with having an inexhaustible good humour, and
"infinitely more wit than any man I ever knew." Of the friendship
with Sir Charles Hanbury Williams, of which we first hear at Eton,
little is known, save the curious episode of the recovery, many
years after its author's death, of Fielding's lost play <em>The
Good-Natured Man</em>, which had apparently been submitted to Sir
Charles, whose celebrity was great as a brilliant political
lampoonist. Of the acquaintance with Henry Fox, first Baron
Holland, we hear nothing in later life; but the name of the
greatest of all these Eton contemporaries, that of the elder Pitt,
recurs in after years as one of the party at Radway Grange, in
Warwickshire, to whom Fielding, after dinner, read aloud the <a
name="fnref1-11">manuscript</a> of <em>Tom Jones</em>. <a class=
"footnote" href="#fn1-11">11</a> A reference to his fellow-Etonian
may be found in one of the introductory chapters of that
masterpiece, where Fielding, while again advocating the claims of
learning, takes occasion to pay this sonorous tribute to Pitt's
oratory: "Nor do I believe that all the imagination, fire, and
judgment of Pitt, could have produced those orations that have made
the senate of England in these our times a rival in eloquence to
Greece and Rome, if he had not been so well read in the writings of
Demosthenes and Cicero, as to have transferred their whole spirit
into his speeches and, with their spirit, their knowledge too."</p>

<p>However excellent a knowledge of the classics the youthful
scholar took away with him from Eton, the rigours of his studies do
not appear to have diminished that zest for life with which the
very name of Henry Fielding is invested. For the obscurity of these
early years is for a moment lifted to disclose the young genius as
having already, before he was nineteen, fallen desperately in love
with a beautiful heiress in Dorsetshire; and, moreover, as
threatening bodily force to accomplish his suit. The story, as
indicated in the surviving outlines, might be the draft for a
chapter of <em>Tom Jones</em>. The scene is Lyme Regis. The chief
actors are Harry Fielding, scarce more than a schoolboy; a
beautiful heiress, Miss <a name="fnref1-12">Sarah</a> Andrew; <a
class="footnote" href="#fn1-12">12</a> and her uncle, one Mr Andrew
Tucker, a timorous and crafty member of the local corporation. The
handsome Etonian, who had been for some time resident in the old
town, fell madly in love, it seems, with the lady, who is stated to
have been his cousin on his mother's side. The views of her
guardian were, however, opposed to the young man's suit, Mr Andrew
Tucker mercenarily designing to secure the heiress for his own son.
Thereupon Harry Fielding is said to have made a desperate attempt
to carry the lady off by force, and that, moreover, "on a Sunday,
when she was on her way to Church." Further, the efforts of the
impetuous youth would seem to have extended to threatened assaults
on the person of his fair cousin's guardian, Mr Tucker; for we find
that affrighted worthy flying for protection to the arm of the law,
as recorded in the <em>Register Book</em> of Lyme Regis, under date
of the 14th November 1725:--"... Andrew Tucker, Gent., one of the
Corporation, caused Henry Fielding, Gent., and his servant or
companion, Joseph Lewis --both now for some time past residing in
the borough--to be bound over to keep the peace, as he was in fear
of his life or some bodily hurt to be done or to be procured to be
done to him by H. Fielding and his man. Mr A. Tucker feared that
the man would beat, maim, or kill him." No words could more aptly
sum up this delightful story than those of Mr Austin Dobson: "a
charming girl, who is also an heiress; a pusillanimous guardian,
with ulterior views of his own; a handsome and high-spirited young
suitor; a faithful attendant ready to 'beat, maim or kill' on his
master's behalf; a frustrated elopement and a compulsory visit to
the mayor--all these with the picturesque old town of Lyme for a
background, suggest a most appropriate first act to Harry
Fielding's <a name="fnref1-13">biographical</a> tragi-comedy." <a
class="footnote" href="#fn1-13">13</a> It is possible that
Fielding's own pen supplied the conclusion to this first act. For
he tells us, in the preface to the <em>Miscellanies</em>, that a
version, in burlesque verse, of part of Juvenal's sixth satire was
originally sketched out before he was twenty, and that it was "all
the Revenge taken by an injured Lover." The story loses none of its
zest, moreover, when we remember that Harry Fielding was at this
time still a Ward of Chancery.</p>

<h2><a name="chapter2">CHAPTER II</a><br>
<br>
PLAYHOUSE BARD</h2>

<p class="quoted">"I could not help reflecting how often the
greatest abilities lie wind-bound, as it were, in life; or if they
venture out, and attempt to beat the seas, they struggle in vain
against wind and tide."<br>
 &nbsp;&nbsp;--<em>Journal of a Voyage to Lisbon</em>.</p>

<p>It was but three years after the Lyme Regis episode that Henry
Fielding, then a lad of one and twenty, won attention as a
successful writer of comedy. Of this his first entry into the gay
world there are little but generalities to record; but, inaccurate
as Murphy is in some matters of fact, there seems no reason to
doubt the truth of the engaging picture which he draws of the young
man's <em>début</em> upon the Town. We read of the gaiety and
quickness of his fancy; the wild flow of his spirits; the
brilliancy of his wit; the activity of his mind, eager to know the
world. To the possession of genius allied to the happiest temper, a
temper "for the most part overflowing into wit, mirth, and
good-humour," young Fielding added a handsome face, a magnificent
physique (he stood over six feet high), and the fullest vigour of
constitution. "No man," wrote his cousin, Lady Mary Wortley
Montagu, "enjoyed life more than he did." What wonder that he was
soon "in high request with the men of taste and literature," or
that report affirms him to have been no less welcome in ranks of
society not at all distinguished by a literary flavour.</p>

<p>That a youth so gifted, so "formed and disposed for enjoyment,"
should find himself his own master, in London, almost presupposes a
too liberal indulgence in the follies that must have so easily
beset him. When the great and cold Mr Secretary Addison, no less
than that "very merry Spirit," Dick Steele, and the splendid
Congreve, drank more than was good for them, what chance would
there be for a brilliant, ardent lad of twenty, suddenly plunged
into the robust society of that age? If Fielding, like his elders,
indisputably loved good wine, let us remember that none of the
heroes of his three great novels, neither that rural innocent
Joseph Andrews, nor the exuberant youth Tom Jones, nor erring,
repentant Captain Booth are immoderate drinkers. The degradation of
drinking is, in Fielding's pages, accorded to brutalised if honest
country squires, and cruel and corrupt magistrates; and there is
little evidence throughout his life to indicate that the great
novelist drank more freely than did the genial heroes of his pen.
As regards Murphy's general assertion that, at this his entrance
into life, young Fielding "launched wildly into a career of
dissipation" no other reputable contemporary evidence is
discoverable of the "wildness" popularly attributed to Fielding.
That his youth was headlong and undisciplined is a plausible
surmise; but justice demands that the charge be recognised as a
surmise and nothing more. How keenly, twenty years later, he could
appreciate the handicap that such early indulgences impose on a
man's future life may be gathered from a passage in <em>Joseph
Andrews</em> which is not without the ring of personal feeling. The
speaker is a generous and estimable country gentleman, living in
Arcadian retirement with his wife and children. Descended of a good
family and born a gentleman, he narrates how his education was
acquired at a public school, and extended to a mastery of the
Latin, and a tolerable knowledge of the Greek, language. Becoming
his own master at sixteen he soon left school, for, he tells his
listeners, "being a forward Youth, I was extremely impatient to be
in the World: For which I thought my Parts, Knowledge, and Manhood
thoroughly qualified me. And to this early Introduction into Life,
without a Guide, I impute all my future Misfortunes; for besides
the obvious Mischiefs which attend this, there is one which hath
not been so generally observed. The first Impression which Mankind
receives of you, will be very difficult to eradicate. How unhappy,
therefore, must it be to fix your Character in Life, before you can
possibly know its Value, or weigh the Consequences of those Actions
which are to establish your future <a name=
"fnref2-1">Reputation</a>?" <a class="footnote" href="#fn2-1">1</a>
That the wise and strenuous Fielding of later years, the energetic
student at the Bar, the active and patriotic journalist, the
merciless exponent of the hypocrite, the spendthrift, and the
sensualist, the creator of the most perfect type of womanhood in
English fiction (so said Dr Johnson and Thackeray) should look back
sadly on his own years of hot-blooded youth is entirely natural;
but even so this passage and the well-known confession placed in
the mouth of the supposed writer of the <em>Journey from this World
to the <a name="fnref2-2">Next</a></em>, <a class="footnote" href=
"#fn2-2">2</a> no more constitute direct evidence than do Murphy's
unattested phrases, or the anonymous scurrilities of
eighteenth-century pamphleteers.</p>

<p class="centered"><a name="i342"><img src="images/342.jpg" alt=
"Anne Oldfield" width="352" height="500"></a></p>

<p>By birth and education Fielding's natural place was in the
costly society of those peers and men of wealth and fashion who
courted the brilliant young wit; but fortune had decreed otherwise,
and at this his first entrance on the world he found, as he himself
said, no choice but to be a hackney writer or a hackney coachman.
True, his father allowed him a nominal £200 a year; but this, to
quote another of his son's observations, "anybody might pay that
would." The fact was that Colonel Fielding's marriage with Madame
Rasa had resulted in a large and rapidly increasing family; and
this burden, together with "the necessary demands of his station
for a genteel and suitable expence," made it impossible for him to
spare much for the maintenance of his eldest son. Launched thus on
the Town, with every capacity for spending an income the receipt of
which was denied to him, the young man flattered himself that he
should find resources in his wit and invention; and accordingly he
commenced as writer for the stage. His first play, a comedy
entitled <em>Love in Several Masks</em>, was performed at Drury
Lane in February 1728, just before the youthful dramatist had
attained his twenty-first year. In his preface to these 'light
scenes' he alludes with some pride to this distinction--"I believe
I may boast that none ever appeared so early on the stage";--and he
proceeds to a generous acknowledgment of the aid received from
those dramatic stars of the eighteenth-century, Colley Gibber, Mr
Wilks and Mrs Oldfield, all of whom appeared in the cast. Of the
two former he says, "I cannot sufficiently acknowledge their civil
and kind behaviour previous to its representation"; from which we
may conclude, as his biographer Laurence points out, that Harry
Fielding was already familiar with the society of the green-room.
To Mrs Oldfield,--that charming actress</p>

<p class="quoted">"In publick Life, by all who saw Approv'd<br>
 In private Life, by all who knew her Lov'd"--</p>

<p>the young man expresses yet warmer acknowledgments. "Lastly," he
declares, "I can never express my grateful sense of the good nature
of Mrs Oldfield ... nor do I owe less to her excellent judgment,
shown in some corrections which I shall for my own sake conceal."
The comedy is dedicated, with the graceful diction and elaborate
courtesies of the period, to Fielding's cousin, that notable
eighteenth-century wit, the Lady Mary Wortley Montagu; and from the
dedication we learn that to Lady Mary's approval, on her first
perusal, the play owed its existence. What the approval of a great
lady of those times meant for the young writer may be measured by
the fact that Fielding concludes his dedication by solemnly
'informing the world' that the representation of his comedy was
twice honoured with Her Ladyship's presence.</p>

<p>In view of the frequent accusation of coarseness brought against
Fielding, we may quote a few lines of the prologue with which he
made his literary entry into the world. Here his audience are
promised</p>

<p class="quoted">"Humour, still free from an indecent Flame,<br>
 Which, should it raise your Mirth, must raise your Shame:<br>
 Indecency's the Bane to Ridicule,<br>
 And only charms the Libertine, or Fool:<br>
 Nought shall offend the Fair One's Ears to-day,<br>
 Which they might blush to hear, or blush to say.<br>
 No private Character these Scenes expose,<br>
 Our Bard, at Vice, not at the Vicious, throws."</p>

<p>Thus it was with an honourable declaration of war against
indecency and libel that the young wit and man of fashion, began
his career as "hackney writer." If to modern taste the first
promise lacks something of fulfilment, it is but just to remember
that to other times belong other manners.</p>

<p>In the play, rustic and philosophic virtue is prettily rewarded
by the possession of a beautiful heiress, while certain mercenary
fops withdraw in signal discomfiture; and that Fielding, at one and
twenty, had already passed judgment on that glittering 'tinsel'
tribe, is clear enough from his portrait of the "empty gaudy
nameless thing," Lord Formal. Lord Formal appears on the stage with
a complexion much agitated by a day of business spent with "three
milleners, two perfumers, my bookseller's and a fanshop." In the
course of these fatigues he has "rid down two brace of chairmen";
and had raised his colour to "that exorbitancy of Vermeille" that
it will hardly be reduced "under a fortnight's course of acids." It
is the true spirit of comedy which introduces into this closely
perfumed atmosphere the bluff country figure of Sir Positive Trap,
with his exordiums on the rustic ladies, and on "the good old
English art of clear-starching." Sir Positive hopes "to see the
time when a man may carry his daughter to market with the same
lawful authority as any other of his cattle"; and causes Lord
Formal some moments' perplexity, his lordship being "not perfectly
determinate what species of animal to assign him to, unless he be
one of those barbarous insects the polite call country squires." In
this production of a youth of twenty we may find a foretaste of
that keen relish in watching the human comedy, that vigorous scorn
of avarice, that infectious laughter at pretentious folly, which
accompanied the novelist throughout his life.</p>

<p>To this same year is attributed a poem called the
<em>Masquerade</em>, which need only be noticed as again
emphasising its author's lifelong war against the evils of his
time. The <em>Masquerade</em> is a satire on the licentious
gatherings organised by the notorious Count Heidegger, Master of
the Revels to the Court of George II.</p>

<p>Many years later <a name="fnref2-3">Fielding</a> reprinted <a
class="footnote" href="#fn2-3">3</a> two other poetical effusions
bearing the date of this his twenty-first year. Of these the first,
entitled "A Description of U----n G---- (alias <em>New Hog's
Norton</em>) in <em>Com-Hants</em>" identified by Mr Keightley as
Upton Grey in Hampshire, is addressed to the fair
<em>Rosalinda,</em> by her disconsolate <em>Alexis</em>. Alexis
bewails his exile among</p>

<p class="quoted">"Unpolish'd Nymphs and more unpolish'd
Swains,"</p>

<p>and describes himself as condemned to live in a dwelling half
house, half shed, with a garden full of docks and nettles, the
fruit-trees bearing only snails--</p>

<p class="quoted">"Happy for us had Eve's this Garden been She'd
found no Fruit, and therefore known no Sin,"--</p>

<p>the dusty meadows innocent of grass, and the company as innocent
of wit. This sketch of rural enjoyments recalls a later utterance
in <em>Jonathan Wild</em>, concerning the votaries of a country
life who, with their trees, "enjoy the air and the sun in common
and both vegetate with very little difference between them." With
one or two eloquent exceptions there is scarce a page in Fielding's
books devoted to any interest other than that of human nature.</p>

<p>The second fragment is a graceful little copy of verse addressed
to <em>Euthalia</em>, in which we may note, by the way, that the
fair Rosalinda's charms are ungallantly made use of as a foil to
Euthalia's dazzling perfections. As Fielding found these verses not
unworthy of a page in his later <em>Miscellanies</em> they are here
recalled:</p>

<p class="quoted">TO EUTHALIA.<br>
 WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 1728.<br>
<br>
"Burning with Love, tormented with Despair,<br>
 Unable to forget or ease his Care;<br>
 In vain each practis'd art <em>Alexis</em> tries;<br>
 In vain to Books, to Wine or Women flies;<br>
 Each brings <em>Euthalia's</em> Image to his Eyes.<br>
 In <em>Lock's</em> or <em>Newton's</em> Page her Learning
glows;<br>
 <em>Dryden</em> the Sweetness of her Numbers shews;<br>
 In all their various Excellence I find<br>
 The various Beauties of her perfect Mind.<br>
 How vain in Wine a short Relief I boast!<br>
 Each sparkling Glass recalls my charming Toast.<br>
 To Women then successless I repair,<br>
 Engage the Young, the Witty, and the Fair.<br>
 When <em>Sappho's</em> Wit each envious Breast alarms,<br>
 And <em>Rosalinda</em> looks ten thousand Charms;<br>
 In vain to them my restless Thoughts would run;<br>
 Like fairest Stars, they show the absent Sun."</p>

<p><em>Love in Several Masks</em> was produced, as we have seen, in
February, 1728; and it is a little surprising to find the young
dramatist suddenly appearing, four weeks later, as a University
student. He was entered at the University of Leyden, as "Litt.
Stud," on the 16th of March 1728. The reason of this sudden change
from the green-room of Drury Lane to the ancient Dutch university
must be purely matter of conjecture, as is the nature of Fielding's
undergraduate studies, Murphy having lately been proved to be
notably erroneous as to this <a name="fnref2-4">episode</a>. <a
class="footnote" href="#fn2-4">4</a> His name occurs as staying, on
his entry at Leyden, at the "Casteel von Antwerpen"; and again, a
year later, in the <em>recensiones</em> of the University for
February 1729, as domiciled with one Jan Oson. As all students were
annually registered, the omission of any later entry proves that he
left Leyden before 1730; with which meagre facts and his own
incidental remark that the comedy of <em>Don Quixote in
England</em> was "begun at Leyden in the year 1728," our knowledge
of the two years of Fielding's university career concludes. In
February 1730 he was presumably back in London, that being the date
of his next play, the <em>Temple Beau</em>, produced by Giffard,
the actor, at the new theatre in Goodman's Fields.</p>

<p class="centered"><a name="i337"><img src="images/337.jpg" alt=
"Leyden--1727" width="637" height="448"></a></p>

<p>The prologue to the <em>Temple Beau</em> was written by that man
of many parts, James Ralph, the hack writer, party journalist and
historian, who was in after years to collaborate with Fielding,
both as a theatrical manager and as a journalist. Ralph's opening
lines are of interest as bearing on Fielding's antagonism to the
harlequinades and variety shows, then threatening the popularity of
legitimate drama:</p>

<p class="quoted">"Humour and Wit, in each politer Age, Triumphant,
rear'd the Trophies of the Stage: But only Farce, and Shew, will
now go down, And HARLEQUIN'S the Darling of the Town."</p>

<p>Ralph bids his audience turn to the 'infant stage' of Goodman's
Fields for matter more worthy their attention; and his promise that
there</p>

<p class="quoted">"The Comick Muse, in Smiles severely gay, Shall
scoff at Vice, and laugh its Crimes away"</p>

<p>must surely have been inspired by the young genius from whom
twenty years later came the formal declaration of his endeavour, in
<em>Tom Jones,</em> "to laugh mankind out of their favourite
follies and vices."</p>

<p>The special follies of the <em>Temple Beau</em> have, for
background, of course, those precincts in which Fielding was later
to labour so assiduously as a student, and as a member of the
Middle Temple; but where, as the young Templar of the play
observes, "dress and the ladies" might also very pleasantly employ
a man's time. But except for an oblique hit at duelling, a custom
which Fielding was later to attack with curious warmth, this second
play seems to yield few passages of biographical interest. Of very
different value for our purpose is the third play, which within
only two months appeared from a pen stimulated, presumably, by
empty pockets. This was the comedy entitled the <em>Author's
Farce</em>, being the first portion of a medley which included the
'<em>Puppet Show call'd the Pleasures of the Town</em>; the whole
being acted in the Little Theatre in the Haymarket, long since
demolished in favour of the present building.</p>

<p>In the person of Harry Luckless, the hero of the <em>Author's
Farce</em>, it is impossible not to surmise the figure of young
Fielding himself; a figure gay and spirited as those of his first
comedy, but, by now, well acquainted with the hungers and the
straits of a 'hackney writer.' Mr Luckless wears a laced-coat and
makes a handsome figure (we remember that Fielding had always the
grand air), whereby his landlady, clamouring for her rent, upbraids
him for deceiving her: "Cou'd I have guess'd that I had a Poet in
my House! Cou'd I have look'd for a Poet under lac'd Clothes!" The
poor author offers her the security of his (as yet unacted) play;
whereupon Mrs Moneywood (lineal ancestress of Mrs Raddles)
pertinently cries out: "I would no more depend on a Benefit-Night
of an unacted Play, than I would on a Benefit-Ticket in an undrawn
Lottery." Luckless next appeals to what should be his landlady's
heart, assuring her that unless she be so kind as to invite him "I
am afraid I shall scarce prevail on my Stomach to dine to-day." To
which the enraged lady answers: "O never fear that: you will never
want a Dinner till you have dined at all the Eating-houses
round.--No one shuts their Doors against you the first time; and I
scarce think you are so kind, seldom to trouble them a second." And
that the good landlady had some grounds for her wrath is but too
apparent when she announces: "Well, I'm resolv'd when you are gone
away (which I heartily hope will be very soon) I'll hang over my
Door in great red Letters, <em>No Lodging for Poets</em> ... My
Floor is all spoil'd with Ink, my Windows with Verses, and my Door
has been almost beat down with Duns.' While the landlady is still
fuming, enters our author's man, Jack.</p>

<p class="quoted">"<em>Jack</em>. An't please your Honour, I have
been at my Lord's, and his Lordship thanks you for the Favour you
have offer'd of reading your Play to him; but he has such a
prodigious deal of Business he begs to be excus'd. I have been with
Mr <em>Keyber</em> too: he made no Answer at all...."</p>

<p class="quoted">"<em>Luckless</em>. Jack.</p>

<p class="quoted">"<em>Jack</em>. Sir.</p>

<p class="quoted">"<em>Luckless</em>. Fetch my other Hat hither.
Carry it to the Pawnbroker's.</p>

<p class="quoted">"<em>Jack</em>. To your Honour's own
Pawnbroker.</p>

<p class="quoted">"<em>Luckless</em>. Ay And in thy way home call
at the Cook's Shop. So, one way or other I find, my Head must
always provide for my Belly."</p>

<p>At which moment enters the caustic, generous Witmore,
belabouring the profanity, the scurrility, the immodesty, the
stupidity of the age with one hand, the while he pays his friend's
rent with the other; and who, incidentally, is requested by that
irascible genius to kick a worthy publisher down the stairs, on the
latter's refusal to give fifty shillings "no, nor fifty farthings"
for his play. Once mollified by the settlement of her bill, we have
the landlady playing advocate for her hapless lodger in words that
sound very like the apologia of Mr Harry Fielding himself: "I have
always thought, indeed, Mr <em>Luckless</em> had a great deal of
Honesty in his Principles; any Man may be unfortunate: but I knew
when he had Money I should have it...." And the good woman's
reminiscence that while her lodger had money her doors were
thundered at every morning between four and five by coachmen and
chairmen; and her wish that that pleasant humour'd gentleman were
"but a little soberer," finishes, we take it, the portrait of the
Fielding of 1730. "Jack call a coach; and d'ye hear, get up behind
it and attend me," cries the improvident poet, the moment his
generous friend has left him; and so we are sure did young Mr
Fielding put himself and his laced coat into a coach, and mount his
man behind it, whenever the exigencies of duns and hunger were for
a moment abated. And with as gallant a humour as that of his own
Luckless did he walk afoot, when those "nine ragged jades the
muses" failed to bring him a competency.</p>

<p>Such failure on the part of the Muses was due to no want of
wooing on his part. During the six years between Fielding's first
appearance as dramatic author in 1728, and his marriage in 1734,
there stand no fewer than thirteen plays to his name. Of these none
have won any lasting reputation; and to this period of the great
novelist's life may doubtless be applied Lady Mary Wortley
Montagu's description, when lamenting that her kinsman should have
been "forced by necessity to publish without correction, and throw
many productions into the world he would have thrown into the fire,
if meat could have been got without money, and money without
scribbling." Lady Mary's account moreover is reinforced by Murphy's
classical periods: "Mr Fielding's case was generally the same with
that of the poet described by Juvenal; with a great genius, he must
have starved if he had not sold his performance to a favourite
actor. <em>Esurit, intactam Paridi, nisi vendit Agaven</em>." A
complete list of all these ephemera will be found in the
bibliography at the end of this volume; here we need but notice
those to which a special interest attaches. Thus, that incomparable
comic actress, Kitty Clive, was cast for a part in the
<em>Lottery</em>, a farce produced in 1731; and three years later
Fielding is adapting for her, especially, the <em>Intriguing
Chambermaid</em>. It was in these two plays, and that of the
<em>Virgin Unmasked</em>, that the town discovered the true comic
genius of Kitty Clive "the best player I ever saw," in Dr Johnson's
opinion. For this discovery Fielding takes credit to himself, in
the dedication addressed to Mrs Clive, which he prefixed to the
<em>Intriguing Chambermaid</em>; and in which he finds opportunity
to pay a noble tribute to the private life of that inimitable
hoyden of the stage. "I cannot help reflecting" he writes, "that
the Town hath one great obligation to me, who made the first
discovery of your great capacity, and brought you earlier forward
on the theatre, than the ignorance of some and the envy of others
would have otherwise permitted.... But as great a favorite as you
at present are with the audience you would be much more so were
they acquainted with your private character ... did they see you,
who can charm them on the stage with personating the foolish and
vicious characters of your sex, acting in real life the part of the
best Wife, the best Daughter, the best Sister, and the best
Friend." That this splendid praise was as sincere as it was
generous need not be doubted. No breath of slander, even in that
slanderous age, seems ever to have dulled the reputation of the
queen of comedy, and "better romp than any I ever saw in
nature"--to quote Dr Johnson again,--Kitty Clive.</p>

<p class="centered"><a name="i339"><img src="images/339.jpg" alt=
"Kitty Clive as Philida" width="344" height="500"></a></p>

<p>So few of Fielding's letters have been, to our knowledge,
preserved, that the following note addressed to Lady Mary Wortley
Montagu, and concerning the <em>Modern Husband</em>, a comedy
produced in 1731 or 1732, must here be given, though containing
little beyond the fact that the dramatist of three years' standing
seems still to have placed as high a value on his cousin's
judgment, as when recording her approval of his first effort for
the stage. The play was a piece of admittedly moral purpose, and
was dedicated to Sir Robert Walpole. The first line of the
autograph is, apparently, missing.</p>

<p><br>
</p>

<p>"I hope your Ladyship will honour the Scenes, which I presume to
lay before you, with your Perusal. As they are written on a Model I
never yet attempted, I am exceedingly anxious least they should
find least Mercy from you than my lighter Productions. It will be a
slight compensation to the modern Husband, that your Ladyship's
censure will defend him from the Possibility of any other Reproof,
since your least Approbation will always give me a Pleasure,
infinitely superior to the loudest Applauses of a Theatre. For
whatever has past your judgment, may, I think without any
Imputation of Immodesty, refer Want of Success to Want of Judgment
in an Audience. I shall do myself the honour of waiting on your
Ladyship at Twickenham next Monday to receive my Sentence, and am,
Madam, with the most devoted Respect</p>

<p>"Your Ladyship's<br>
"most Obedient most humble Servant<br>
"Henry <a name="fnref2-5">Ffielding</a>. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fn2-5">5</a><br>
"London 7'br 4."</p>

<p class="centered"><a name="i338"><img src="images/338.jpg" alt=
"Frontispiece to Fielding's 'Tom Thumb'" width="286" height="500">
</a></p>

<p>In 1731-32 the burlesque entitled the <em>Tragedy of Tragedies;
or the Life and Death of Tom Thumb the Great</em>, took the Town.
The <em>Tragedy</em> parodies the absurdities of tragedians; and so
far won immortality that in 1855 it was described as still holding
the stage. But its chief modern interest lies in the tradition that
Swift once observed that he "had not laughed above twice" in his
life,--once at the tricks of a merry-andrew, and again when
Fielding's Tom Thumb killed the ghost. The design for the
frontispiece of the edition of 1731, here reproduced, is from the
pencil of Hogarth; and is the first trace of a connexion between
Fielding and the painter who was to be honoured so frequently in
his pages. An adaptation from Molière, produced in 1733, under the
title of the <em>Miser</em>, won from Voltaire the praise of having
added to the original "quelques beautes de dialogue particulières a
sa [Fielding's] nation." The leading character in the
<em>Miser</em>, Lovegold, became a stock part, and survived to our
own days, having been a favourite with Phelps. In <em>Don Quixote
in England</em>, produced in 1733 or <a name="fnref2-6">34</a>, <a
class="footnote" href="#fn2-6">6</a> Fielding reappears in the
character of patriotic censor with the design, as appears from the
dedication to Lord Chesterfield, of representing "the Calamities
brought on a Country by general Corruption." No less than fifteen
songs are interspersed in the play, and it is matter for curious
conjecture why none of them was chosen for a reprint among the
collected verses published ten years later in the
<em>Miscellanies</em>. Time has almost failed to preserve even the
hunting-song beginning finely--</p>

<p class="quoted">"The dusky Night rides down the Sky,<br>
 &nbsp;&nbsp;And ushers in the Morn;<br>
 The Hounds all join in glorious Cry,<br>
 &nbsp;&nbsp;The Huntsman winds his Horn:"</p>

<p>But a happier fate has befallen the fifth song, now familiar as
the first verse of the <em>Roast Beef of Old England</em>. It is
eminently appropriate that the most distinctly national of English
novelists should have written:</p>

<p class="quoted">"<em>When mighty Rost Beef was the</em>
Englishman's <em>food,<br>
 It ennobled our Hearts, and enriched our Blood;<br>
 Our Soldiers were brave and our Courtiers were good.<br>
 &nbsp;&nbsp;Oh, the Rost Beef of old England,<br>
 &nbsp;&nbsp;And old</em> England's <em>Rost Beef!</em></p>

<p class="quoted">"<em>Then</em>, Britons, <em>from all nice
Dainties refrain,<br>
 Which effeminate</em> Italy, France, <em>and</em> Spain;<br>
 <em>And mighty Rost Beef shall command on the Main.<br>
 &nbsp;&nbsp;Oh, the Rost Beef</em>, etc."</p>

<p>To this truly prolific period of the young 'hackney writer's'
pen belongs an <em>Epilogue</em>, hitherto overlooked, written for
Charles Johnson's five-act play <em>Caelia or the Perjur'd
Lover</em>, and spoken by Kitty Clive. The lines, which are hardly
worth reprinting, consist of an ironic attack on the laxity of town
morals, where "Miss may take great liberties upon her," and each
woman is virtuous till she be found out.</p>

<p>An average of two plays a year is a record scarcely conducive to
literary excellence; any more than is the empty cupboard, and the
frequent recourse to 'your honour's own pawnbroker,' so often and
so honourably familiar to struggling genius. "The farces written by
Mr Fielding," says Murphy"... were generally the production of two
or three mornings, so great was his facility in writing"; and we
have seen Lady Mary Wortley Montagu's assertion that much of his
work would have been thrown into the fire had not his dinner gone
with it. Of the struggles of these <a name="fnref2-7">early</a>
years <a class="footnote" href="#fn2-7">7</a> (struggles never
wholly remitted, for, to quote Lady Mary again, Fielding would have
wanted money had his hereditary lands been as extensive as his
imagination) we get further suggestions in the <em>Poetical
Epistle</em> addressed to Sir Robert Walpole when the young poet
was but twenty-three. The lines go with a gallant spirit, but it is
not difficult to detect a savour of grim hardship behind the
jests:</p>

<p class="quoted">"While at the Helm of State you ride,<br>
 Our Nation's Envy and its Pride;<br>
 While foreign Courts with Wonder gaze,<br>
 And curse those Councils which they praise;<br>
 Would you not wonder, Sir, to view<br>
 Your Bard a greater Man than you?<br>
 Which that he, is you cannot doubt,<br>
 When you have heard the Sequel out.<br>
 . . . . . "The Family that dines the latest,<br>
 Is in our Street esteem'd the greatest;<br>
 But latest Hours must surely fall<br>
 Before him who ne'er dines at all.<br>
<br>
 Your Taste in Architect, you know,<br>
 Hath been admir'd by Friend and Foe;<br>
 But can your earthly Domes compare<br>
 With all my Castles--in the Air?<br>
<br>
 "We're often taught it doth behove us<br>
 To think those greater who're above us;<br>
 Another Instance of my Glory,<br>
 Who live above you, twice two Story,<br>
 And from my Garret can look down<br>
 On the whole Street of <a name="fnref2-8">Arlington</a>." <a
class="footnote" href="#fn2-8">8</a></p>

<p>Not to depend too greatly on Mr Luckless for our picture of
Fielding as a playwright, we will conclude it with the well-known
passage from Murphy: "When he had contracted to bring on a play, or
a farce, it is well known, by many of his friends now living, that
he would go home rather late from a tavern, and would the next
morning deliver a scene to the players, written upon the papers
which had wrapped the tobacco in which he so much delighted." Would
that some of those friends had recorded for our delight the wit
that, alas! has vanished like the smoke through which it was
engendered. What would we not give for the table-talk of Henry
Fielding.</p>

<h2><a name="chapter3">CHAPTER III</a><br>
<br>
MARRIAGE</h2>

<p class="quoted">"What happiness the world affords equal to the
possession of such a woman as Sophia I sincerely own I have never
yet discovered." --<em>Tom Jones</em>.</p>

<p>Out of the paint and powder of the green-room, the tobacco
clouds of the tavern, the crowded streets where hungry genius went
afoot one day, and rode in a coach the next--in a word, out of the
Town as Harry Fielding knew it--we step, in the year 1734, into the
idyll of his life, his marriage with Charlotte Cradock. For to
Fielding the supreme gift was accorded of passionate devotion to a
woman of whose charm and virtue he himself has raised an enduring
memorial in the lovely portrait of Sophia Western. It is this
portrait, explicitly <a name="fnref3-1">admitted</a>, <a class=
"footnote" href="#fn3-1">1</a> that affords almost our only
authentic knowledge of Charlotte Cradock, beyond the meagre facts
that her home was in Salisbury, and that there she and her sisters
reigned as country belles. For it was not in the gay world of
'Riddoto's, Opera's, and Plays,' nor among the humbler scenes of
the great city in which he delighted to watch the humours of simple
folk (the highest life being in his opinion 'much the dullest'),
that Fielding found his wife. Doubtless his six years about town,
as hackney author, with his good birth, his brilliant wit, and his
scanty means, had made him well acquainted with every phase of
society, "from the Minister at his Levee, to the Bailiff at his
spunging-house; from the Duchess at her drum, to the Landlady
behind her bar"; but it was in the rural seclusion of an old
cathedral town that he wooed and won the beautiful Miss Cradock.
Indeed it is impossible to conceive of Sophia as for ever domiciled
in streets. The very apostrophe which heralds her first appearance
in <em>Tom Jones</em> is fragrant with flower-enamelled meadows,
fresh breezes, and the songs of birds "whose sweetest notes not
even Handel can excel"; and it is thus, with his reader's mind
attuned to the appropriate key, that Fielding ushers in his
heroine: "... lo! adorned with all the Charms in which Nature can
array her; bedecked with Beauty, Youth, Sprightliness, Innocence,
Modesty, and Tenderness, breathing Sweetness from her rosy Lips,
and darting Brightness from her sparkling Eyes, the lovely
<em>Sophia</em> comes." Of middle size, but rather inclining to
tall, with dark hair "curled so gracefully on her neck that few
could believe it to be her own," a forehead rather low, arched
eyebrows, and lustrous black eyes, a mouth that "exactly answered
Sir John Suckling's description in those lines</p>

<p class="quoted">'Her lips were red and one was thin,<br>
 Compar'd to that was next her chin.<br>
 &nbsp;&nbsp;Some bee had stung it newly,'"</p>

<p>with a dimple in the right cheek, and a complexion rather more
of the lily than the rose unless increased by exercise or modesty
when no vermilion could equal it--such was the appearance of
Sophia, who, most of all "resembled one whose image never can
depart from my breast."</p>

<p class="centered"><a name="i344"><img src="images/344.jpg" alt=
"The Close, Salisbury--1798" width="630" height="500"></a></p>

<p>Nor was the beautiful frame, Fielding hastens to add, disgraced
by an unworthy inhabitant. He lingers on the sweetness of temper
which "diffused a glory over her countenance which no regularity of
features can give"; on her perfect breeding, "though wanting
perhaps a little of that ease in her behaviour which is to be
acquired only by habit, and living within what is called the polite
circle"; on the "noble, elevated qualities" which outshone even her
beauty.</p>

<p>The only facts recorded concerning Miss Cradock are that her
home was in Salisbury, or New Sarum as the city was then called,
and that she possessed a small fortune. It is said, but on what
authority is not stated, that she was one of three beautiful
sisters, the belles of the country town; and it is in accordance
with this tradition that Fielding should celebrate in some verses
"writ when the Author was very young," the beauty and intellectual
charm of the Miss Cradocks. When printing these verses many years
afterwards, in his <em>Miscellanies</em> he describes the poem as
originally partly filled in with the 'Names of several young
Ladies,' which part he now omits, "the rather, as some Freedoms,
tho' gentle ones, were taken with little Foibles in the amiable
Sex, whom to affront in Print, is, we conceive, mean in any Man,
and scandalous in a Gentleman." Certainly the Miss Cradocks
suffered no affront in the lines retained, wherein the young poet
affirms that of all the famed nymphs of Sarum, that favoured
city,</p>

<p class="quoted">"Whose Nymphs excel all Beauty's Flowers,<br>
 As thy high Steeple doth all Towers"</p>

<p>the 'C----cks' were the best and fairest. Nay, has not great
Jove himself apportioned a 'celestial Dower' to these most favoured
of maidens,</p>

<p class="quoted">"To form whose lovely Minds and Faces<br>
 I stript half Heaven of its Graces."</p>

<p>From this charming sisterhood Harry Fielding won his bride, but
not until four years of waiting had been accomplished. So much may
be assumed from the early date of the verses entitled "Advice to
the Nymphs of <em>New S---m</em>. Written in the Year 1730." Here
the newly returned student from Leyden, the successful dramatist
from Drury Lane, bids the Salisbury beauties cease their vain
endeavours to contend with the matchless charms of his Celia. And
here, in a pretty compliment introduced to the great Mr Pope, then
at the height of his fame, we are reminded that Celia's lover is
already a man of letters, for all his mere three and twenty years.
When Celia meets her equal, then, he declares, farthing candles
shall eclipse the moon, and "sweet <em>Pope</em> be dull."</p>

<p>It is these youthful love-verses, verses as he himself was the
first to admit, that were 'indeed Productions of the Heart rather
than the Head,' that afford our only record of Fielding's wooing.
Thus, he sings his passion for <em>Celia</em> in the
declaration</p>

<p class="quoted">"I hate the Town, and all its Ways;<br>
 Ridotto's, Opera's, and Plays;<br>
 The Ball, the Ring, the Mall, the Court;<br>
 Where ever the Beau-Monde resort....<br>
 All Coffee-houses, and their Praters;<br>
 All Courts of Justice, and Debaters;<br>
 All Taverns, and the Sots within 'em;<br>
 All Bubbles, and the Rogues that skin 'em,"</p>

<p>in short, the whole world 'cram'd all together,' because all his
heart is engrossed for Celia. Again, Cupid is called to account, in
that the careless urchin had left Celia's house unguarded from
thieves, save for an old fellow "who sat up all Night, with a Gun
without any Ammunition." Celia, it seems, had apprehended robbery,
and her poet's rest is troubled:</p>

<p class="quoted">"For how should I Repose enjoy,<br>
 While any fears your Breast annoy?<br>
 Forbid it Heav'n, that I should be<br>
 From any of your Troubles free."</p>

<p>Cupid explains his desertion by ingeniously declaring that a
sigh from Celia had blown him away</p>

<p class="quoted">"<em>to Harry Fielding's breast</em>,"</p>

<p>in which lodging the 'wicked Child' wrought unconscionable
havoc. Again, Celia wishes to have a "Lilliputian to play with," so
she is promptly told that her lover would doff five feet of his
tall stature, to meet her pleasure, and</p>

<p class="quoted">"Then when my Celia walks abroad<br>
 I'd be her pocket's little Load:<br>
 Or sit astride, to frighten People,<br>
 Upon her Hat's new fashion'd Steeple."</p>

<p>Nay, to be prized by Celia, who would not even take the form of
her faithful dog Quadrille.</p>

<p>Jove, we may remember, had dowered the lovely Miss Cradocks with
minds as fair as their persons; and the excellence of Celia's
understanding is again celebrated in a neatly turned verse upon her
'having blamed Mr Gay for his Severity on her Sex.' Had other women
known a tenderness like hers, cries the poet, Gay's darts had
returned into his own bosom; and last of all should such blame come
from her</p>

<p class="quoted">"in whose accomplish'd Mind<br>
 The strongest Satire on thy Sex we find."</p>

<p>The love story that first ran to such pleasant rhymes, in the
old cathedral town, was destined to know many a harsh chapter of
poverty and sickness; but throughout it all the affection of the
lovers remained true; and there is no reason to doubt that, had it
been in Harry Fielding's power to achieve it, the promise of
perhaps the most charming of his love verses would have been
fulfilled:</p>

<p class="quoted">"Can there on Earth, my <em>Celia</em>, be,<br>
 A Price I would not pay for thee?<br>
 Yes, one dear precious Tear of thine<br>
 Should not be shed to make thee mine."</p>

<p>To read Swift's <em>Journal to Stella</em> is almost a
sacrilege; the little notes that Dick Steele would write to his
'dearest Prue' at all hours of day and night, from tavern and
printing office, are scarce less private; no such seals have been
broken, no such records preserved, of the love story of Harry
Fielding. But to neither Swift nor Steele was it given to raise so
perfect and imperishable a memorial of the women loved by them, as
that reared by the passionate affection and grief of Fielding for
Charlotte Cradock. To this day the beautiful young figure of Sophia
Western, all charm and goodness, is alive in his immortal pages.
And if, as her friend Lady Bute asserts, Amelia also is Mrs
Fielding's portrait, then we know her no less intimately as wife
and mother. We watch her brave spirit never failing under the most
cruel distresses and conflicts; we play with her children in their
little nursery; we hear her pleasant wit with the good parson; we
feel her fresh beauty, undimmed in the poor remnants of a wardrobe
that has gone, with her trinkets, to the pawnbroker; we see a
hundred examples of her courage and tenderness and generosity.
There is nothing in Fielding's life that is more to his honour than
the brief words in which so competent an observer as Lady Bute
summed up his marriage with Charlotte Cradock, "he loved her
passionately and she returned his affection."</p>

<p class="centered"><a name="i343"><img src="images/343.jpg" alt=
"Charlcombe Church, near Bath" width="626" height="500"></a></p>

<p>It was in the little country church of St Mary Charlcombe, a
remote village some two miles from Bath, that "Henry Fielding, of
ye Parish of St James in Bath, Esq., and Charlotte Cradock of ye
same Parish, spinster" were married, on the 28th of November <a
name="fnref3-2">1734</a>. <a class="footnote" href="#fn3-2">2</a>
Fifty years later the village was described as containing only nine
houses, the church, well fitted for the flock, being but eighteen
feet wide. The old Somerset historian, Collinson, tells us how the
hamlet stood on rising ground, in a deep retired valley, surrounded
by noble hills, and with a little stream winding through the
vale.</p>

<p>In the January following Fielding and his wife were presumably
back in town; for in this month he produced, at Drury Lane, the
brisk little farce called <em>An Old Man taught Wisdom</em>, a
title afterwards changed to the <em>Virgin Unmasked</em>. It is
probable that this farce was especially written to suit Kitty Clive
in her excelling character of hoyden; and to it, as we have seen,
together with two of its predecessors, is assigned the credit of
having first given that superb comic actress an opportunity of
revealing her powers. Mrs Clive here played the part of Miss Lucy,
a forward young lady who after skittishly interviewing a number of
suitors proposed by her father, finally runs away with Thomas the
footman. The little piece is said to have achieved success; but
scarce had it been staged when "the prolific Mr Fielding," as a
newspaper of the day styles him, brought out a five-act comedy,
named the <em>Universal Gallant: or The different Husbands</em>,
which wholly failed to please the audience, and indeed ran but for
three nights.</p>

<p>The dedication of this play is dated from "Buckingham Street,
Feb. 12," and assuming Buckingham Street, Strand, to be the
district meant, it is probable that the newly married 'poet' and
his wife were then living with Mrs Fielding's relatives; for
although the rate-books for Buckingham Street fail to show the name
of Fielding, they do show that a Mr Thomas Cradock was then a
householder in the street. In an <em>Advertisement</em>, prefixed
to the published copies of this ill-fated comedy, the disappointed
author deprecates the hasty voice of the pit in words that suggest
the anxiety of a man now responsible for a happiness dearer than
his own. "I have heard," he writes, "that there are some young
Gentlemen about this Town who make a Jest of damning Plays--but did
they seriously consider the Cruelty they are guilty of by such a
Practice, I believe it would prevent them"; the more, that if the
author be "so unfortunate to depend on the success of his Labours
for his Bread, he must be an inhuman Creature indeed, who would out
of sport and wantonness prevent a Man from getting a Livelihood in
an honest and inoffensive Way, and make a jest of starving him and
his Family." There is other evidence that young men about town were
wont to amuse themselves by damning plays 'when George was King.'
In the <em>Prologue</em> to this same condemned play, spoken by the
actor Quin, and said to have been written after the disastrous
first night's performance, a more elaborate indictment is laid
against the audiences of the day. The <em>Critick</em>, it seems,
is grown so captious that if a poet seeks new characters he is
denounced for dealing in monsters; if they are known and common,
then he is a plagiarist; if his scenes are serious they are voted
dull; if humorous they are 'low' (a true Fielding touch). And not
only the critic but also the brainless beau stands, as we have
seen, ready to make sport of the poor author. For such as these</p>

<p class="quoted"><em>"'Tis not the Poet's wit affords the
Jest,<br>
 But who can Cat-call, Hiss, or Whistle best."</em></p>

<p>In previous years the brilliant Leyden student might have merely
derided his enemies; to the Fielding of February 1735, struggling
to support himself and his beautiful country bride, this 'cruel
usage' of his 'poor Play' assumed a graver aspect:</p>

<p class="quoted"><em>"Can then another's Anguish give you Joy?<br>
 Or is it such a Triumph to destroy?<br>
 We, like the fabled Frogs, consider thus,<br>
 This may be Sport to you, but it is Death to us."</em></p>

<p>This note of personal protest recalls an indisputably
reminiscent observation in <em>Amelia</em>, to the effect that
although the kindness of a faithful and beloved wife compensates
most of the evils of life, it "rather serves to aggravate the
misfortune of distressed circumstances, from the consideration of
the share which she is to bear in them." We all know how bravely
Amelia bore that share; how cheerfully she would cook the supper;
how firmly she confronted disaster. To realise how deeply Fielding
felt the pain of such struggles when falling upon "the best, the
worthiest and the noblest of women" we need but turn again to his
own pages. If, cries Amelia's husband, when his distresses
overwhelm him, "if I was to suffer alone, I think I could bear them
with some philosophy"; and again "this was the first time I had
ever felt that distress which arises from the want of money; a
distress very dreadful indeed in the married state for what can be
more miserable than to see anything necessary to the preservation
of the beloved creature and not be able to supply it?"</p>

<p>To supply for his Celia much less than the necessities of life
Harry Fielding would undoubtedly have stripped his coat, and his
shirt with it, off his back; but, at the end of this same month of
February, fortune made the young couple sudden amends for the
anxieties that seem to have surrounded them. This turn of the wheel
is reflected with curious accuracy by an anonymous satirist of
1735:</p>

<p class="quoted">"F---g, who <em>Yesterday</em> appear'd so
rough,<br>
 Clad in coarse Frize, and plaister'd down with <em>Snuff</em>,<br>
 See how his <em>Instant</em> gaudy <em>Trappings</em> shine;<br>
 What <em>Play-house</em> Bard was ever seen so fine!<br>
 But this, not from his <em>Humour</em> glows, you'll say<br>
 But mere <em>Necessity</em>;--for last Night lay<br>
 In pawn the Velvet which he wears to <a name="fnref3-3">Day</a>."
<a class="footnote" href="#fn3-3">3</a></p>

<p>This relief, for a time at least, from the pressing anxieties of
a 'play-house bard,' befell by the death of Charlotte Fielding's
mother, Mrs Elizabeth Cradock of Salisbury, who died in February,
but a week or two after the execution of a will wholly in favour of
that 'dearly beloved' daughter. As the details of Mrs Fielding's
inheritance have not hitherto been known, some portions of her
mother's will may be quoted. "... I Elizabeth Cradock of Salisbury
in the County of Wilts ... do make this my last will and testament
... Item I give to my daughter Catherine one shilling and all the
rest and residue of my ready money plate jewels and estate
whatsoever and wheresoever after my debts and funeral charges are
fully paid and satisfied I give devize and bequeath the same unto
my dearly beloved daughter Charlott Ffeilding wife of Henry
Ffeilding of East Stour in the County of Dorset Esqre." Mrs Cradock
proceeds to revoke all former wills; and appoints her said daughter
"Charlott Ffeilding" as her sole executrix. The will is dated
February 8 1734, old style, viz. 1735; and was proved in London on
the 25th of the same month, 'Charlott Ffeilding,' as sole
executrix, being duly sworn to administer. The provision of one
shilling for another, and apparently <em>not</em> dearly beloved,
daughter, Catherine, recalls the wicked sister in <em>Amelia</em>
who "had some way or other disobliged her mother, a little before
the old lady died," and who consequently was deprived of that
inheritance which relieved Amelia and her husband from the direst
straits.</p>

<p class="centered"><a name="i345"><img src="images/345.jpg" alt=
"Fielding's house, East Stour, Dorsetshire" width="663" height=
"500"></a></p>

<p>As no plays are credited to Fielding's name for the ensuing
months of 1735, it is a reasonable inference that the young
Salisbury heiress, whose experience of London had, doubtless,
included a pretty close acquaintance with the hardships of
struggling genius, employed some of her inheritance to enable her
husband to return to the home of his boyhood, on the "pleasant
Banks of sweetly-winding Stour." There is no record of how the
Stour estate, settled on Henry Fielding and his brother and
sisters, was apportioned; but an engraving published in 1813 shows
the old stone "farmhouse," which Fielding occupied, the kitchen of
which then still remained as it was in the novelist's time, when it
served as a parlour. Behind the house stood a famous locust tree;
and close by was the village church served at this time, as the
parish registers show, by the Rev. William Young, the original of
the immortal Parson Adams of <em>Joseph <a name=
"fnref3-4">Andrews</a></em>. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fn3-4">4</a> From a subsequent deed of sale we know that the
estate consisted of at least three gardens, three orchards, eighty
acres of meadow, one hundred and forty acres of pasture, ten acres
of wood, two dove-houses, and "common of pasture for all manner of
cattle." To the stone farmhouse, and to these orchards and meadows,
commons and pastures, Fielding brought his wife, probably in this
year of 1735; and memories of their sojourn at Stour surely
inspired those references in <em>Amelia</em> to the country life of
'love, health, and tranquillity,' a life resembling a calm sea
which "must appear dull in description; for who can describe the
pleasures which the morning air gives to one in perfect health; the
flow of spirits which springs up from exercise; the delights which
parents feel from the prattle and innocent follies of their
children; the joy with which the tender smile of a wife inspires a
husband; or lastly the cheerful solid comfort which a fond couple
enjoy in each others' conversation.--All these pleasures, and every
other of which our situation was capable we tasted in the highest
degree."</p>

<p>That a man endowed with Fielding's intense joy in living--he was
"so formed for happiness," wrote his cousin Lady Mary, "it is a
pity he was not immortal"--should eagerly taste all the pleasures
of life as a country gentleman, and that in 'the highest degree,'
is entirely consonant with his character. At the very end of his
life, when dying of a complication of diseases, his happy social
spirit was still unbroken; for we find him even then writing of his
inability to enjoy an agreeable hour "without the assistance of a
companion which has always appeared to me necessary to such <a
name="fnref3-5">enjoyment</a>." <a class="footnote" href=
"#fn3-5">5</a> Nor would the generous temper, which was ever ready
to share his most needed guinea with a friend scarce poorer than
himself, be infected with niggardliness by the happy enjoyment of
that position to which he was by birth entitled. The well-known
account therefore, given by Murphy, of the East Stour episode is
exactly what we might have expected of Harry Fielding in the part
of country gentleman: "To that place [<em>i.e.</em> his estate of
East Stour]," says Murphy, "he retired with his wife, on whom he
doated, with a resolution to bid adieu to all the follies and
intemperances to which he had addicted himself in the career of a
town life. But unfortunately a kind of family pride here gained an
ascendant over him, and he began immediately to vie in splendour
with the neighbouring country 'squires. With an estate not much
above two hundred pounds a year, and his wife's fortune, which did
not exceed fifteen hundred pounds, he encumbered himself with a
large retinue of servants, all clad in costly yellow liveries. For
their master's honour, these people could not descend so low as to
be careful of their apparel, but in a month or two were unfit to be
seen; the 'squire's dignity required that they should be
new-equipped; and his chief pleasure consisting in society and
convivial mirth, hospitality threw open his doors, and, in less
than three years, entertainments, hounds, and horses, entirely
devoured a little patrimony...." This account is prefaced by gross
inaccuracies of fact, inexplicable in a biographer writing but ten
years after the death of his subject; but, as Mr Austin Dobson
says, "there can be little doubt that the rafters of the old farm
by the Stour, with the great locust tree at the back, which is
figured in Hutchins's <em>History of Dorset</em>, rang often to
hunting choruses, and that not seldom the 'dusky Night rode down
the Sky' over the prostrate forms of Harry Fielding's guests."
Petty-minded moralists like Murphy have gravely admonished the
great novelist's memory for not having safely bestowed his estate
in the consols of the period; they forget that a spirit of small
economy is generally the compensation awarded to the poor average
of humanity. The genius of Fielding knew how to enjoy splendidly,
and to give lavishly.</p>

<h2><a name="chapter4">CHAPTER IV</a><br>
<br>
POLITICAL PLAYS</h2>

<p class="quoted">"Whoever attempteth to introduce corruption into
any community, doth much the same thing, and ought to be treated in
much the same manner with him who poisoneth a
fountain."--Dedication of the <em>Historical Register</em>.</p>

<p>A prolonged retirement into Dorsetshire, however pleasant were
the banks of Stour with a beautiful young wife, and a sufficient
estate, could scarce be expected of Fielding's restless genius. He
was now thirty-five; his splendid physique was as yet unimpaired by
the gout that was so soon to attack him; his powers were still
hardly revealed; and, as far as we can discover, he was, at the
moment, under no pressure for money. Still, the hunting choruses of
the Squire Westerns of Dorsetshire can hardly have long sufficed
for one whom Lyttelton declared to have had "more wit than any man
I ever knew"; and the social and political conditions of the
country were increasingly calculated to inflame into practical
activity that "enthusiasm for righteousness," which Mr Gosse has so
well detected in <a name="fnref4-1">Fielding</a>. <a class=
"footnote" href="#fn4-1">1</a> The distracted state of the London
stage, divided by the factions of players and managers, afforded
moreover an excellent opportunity for a dramatist of some means to
essay an independent venture. And accordingly, at the beginning of
1736, we find the Harry Fielding of the green-room and the poet's
garret, the Henry Fielding Esqre of East Stour, suddenly throwing
the full force of his energies into political life, as the manager
of, and writer for, a theatre with indisputable political aims. For
the next eight years of his short life Fielding was largely
occupied in the lively turmoil of eighteenth-century politics; and
here, first by means of the stage, and later as journalist, he
played a part which has perhaps been somewhat unduly overshadowed
by the surpassing achievements of his genius as father of the
English novel. But if we would perceive the full figure of the man
this time of boisterous political warfare is of no mean account. In
the dedication of his first party play, the amazingly successful
<em>Pasquin</em>, Fielding subscribes himself as "the most devoted
Servant of the public"; and no more appropriate keyword could be
found for the energies which he threw into those envenomed
political struggles of 1736-41.</p>

<p class="centered"><a name="i346"><img src="images/346.jpg" alt=
"Sir Robert Walpole--1740" width="316" height="500"></a></p>

<p>At the date of his first plunge into these struggles England
stood sorely in need of a pen as biting, as witty and as fearless,
as that of Henry Fielding. For over ten years the country had been
ruled by one of those "peace at any price" Ministers who have at
times so successfully inflamed the baser commercial instincts of
Englishmen. Sir Robert Walpole, the reputed organiser of an
unrivalled system of bribery and corruption, the Minister of whom a
recent apologist frankly declares that to young members of
Parliament who spoke of public virtue and patriotism he would reply
"you will soon come off that and grow wiser," the autocrat
enamoured of power who could brook no colleague within measurable
distance, the man of coarse habits and illiterate tastes, above all
the man who induced his countrymen to place money before honour,
and whose administration even an admirer describes as one of
unparalleled stagnation--such a man must have roused intense
antagonism in Fielding's generous and ardent nature. For, from the
days of his first boyish satires to the last energetic acts of his
life as a London magistrate, for Fielding to see an abuse was to
set about reforming it. To his just sense of the true worth of
money, the wholesale corruption of English political life
accredited to Walpole, the poisoning, to adopt his own simile, of
the body politic, must have seemed the vilest national crime. There
could never have been the least sympathy between the mercenary and
apathetic methods of Walpole and the open-hearted genius of
Fielding. And, added to such fundamental opposition of character,
the influence of Fielding's old school friend, George Lyttelton,
would, at this juncture especially, draw him into the active ranks
of the Opposition.</p>

<p>Lyttelton was then rising into celebrity as a ready
parliamentary speaker; a celebrity as yet not wholly eclipsed by
the youthful oratory of William Pitt, the young cornet of the
horse, who also had lately taken his seat on the Opposition
benches. It was the burning patriotism, the lofty character and the
towering genius of Pitt, the fluency and personal integrity of
Lyttelton, that led the younger members of the Opposition in the
House of Commons; while in the Lords another friend from whom
Fielding was to receive "princely benefactions," the young Duke of
Bedford, a man of "inflexible honesty and goodwill to his country,"
attacked Walpole's alleged corrupt practices in the election of
Scottish peers. With leaders such as William Pitt and Lyttelton on
the one hand, and the corrupt figure of Walpole on the other, there
is no wonder that Fielding flung all his generous force into the
effort to free England from so degrading a domination. Accordingly,
in 1736, when the young Pitt's impassioned eloquence was soon to
alarm the <em>Great Man</em>--"we must muzzle that terrible Cornet
of the Horse," Sir Robert said--and when fierce and riotous
hostility to the government had broken out in the country over an
attempted Excise Bill, Fielding appears as a frankly political
manager of the "New Theatre" in the Haymarket. This small theatre
stood precisely adjoining the present Palladian structure, as may
be seen from a print of 1820, showing the demolition of the old
building and the adjacent façade of the modern "Haymarket."
According to Tom Davies, who, as an actor in Fielding's company and
as an author of some pretensions should be reliable, Fielding was a
managing partner of this "New Theatre," in company with James
Ralph, "about the year <a name="fnref4-2">1735</a>." <a class=
"footnote" href="#fn4-2">2</a> And apparently early in <a name=
"fnref4-3">1736</a> <a class="footnote" href="#fn4-3">3</a> his
political, theatrical, and social satire of <em>Pasquin</em>
appeared on the little stage, and immediately captured the
town.</p>

<p class="centered"><a name="i347"><img src="images/347.jpg" alt="Pasquin"
width="517" height="500"></a></p>

<p>In <em>Pasquin</em> a perfectly outspoken attack on Walpole's
corrupt methods is united with a comprehensive onslaught on abuses
in the stage, law, divinity, physic, society, and on the odes of
Colley Cibber, sufficient one might suppose to satisfy even
Fielding's zeal. In an exuberant newspaper advertisement of the 5th
of March Mr Pasquin is announced as intending to "lay about him
with great impartiality," and throughout the play Fielding's
splendid figure may be felt, swinging his satiric club with a
boisterous enjoyment. The immediate success achieved by the piece
was certainly not due to any great dramatic excellence; and that so
loosely knit a medley as <em>PASQUIN, a Dramatic Satire on the
Times: Being the Rehearsal of Two Plays, viz. A Comedy call'd THE
ELECTION and a Tragedy, call'd The Life and Death of
COMMON-SENSE</em> should have achieved almost as long a run as the
<em>Beggars Opera</em>, shows that the public heartily sympathised
with the satirist. <em>Pasquin</em> begins with the rehearsal of a
comedy, called <em>The Election</em>, consisting of a series of
broadly humorous scenes in which the open and diverse bribery at
elections, the equally open immorality of fashionable town life,
the connivance of country dames, and the inanity of the beau monde,
are satirised. The country Mayor, the Ministerial candidates and
the Opposition squire drink, bribe and are bribed with complete
impartiality. A scene devoted to the political young lady of the
day affords opportunity for a hit at the sickly and effeminate Lord
'Fanny' Hervey, that politician whom Pope described as a "mere
white curd of Asse's milk," and of whom Lady Mary Wortley Montagu
observed that "the world consisted of men, women, and Herveys."
Pope had stigmatised Hervey as <em>Lord Fanny</em>, and Fielding
obviously plays on the nickname by references to the value attached
by certain young ladies to their fans. "Faith," says his comic
author, "this incident of the fan struck me so strongly that I was
once going to call this comedy by the name of the Fan." The comedy
ends with the successful cooking of the election returns by Mr
Mayor in favour of the Ministerial candidates, for which "return"
he is promised a "very good turn very soon"; and by the precipitate
marriage of one of the said candidates to the Mayor's daughter "to
strengthen his interest with the returning officer."</p>

<p>Having settled the business of the corrupt and corrupting
Ministry in his comedy, Mr Pasquin proceeds to exhibit the
rehearsal of his tragedy, <em>The Life and Death of Common
Sense</em>. Here the satirist, leaving politics, applies his cudgel
mainly to the prevailing taste for pantomime, a form of
entertainment introduced it was said some thirty years previously
by one Weaver, a country dancing master, and already lashed by Sir
Richard Steele in his couplet:</p>

<p class="quoted">"Weaver, corrupter of the present age,<br>
 Who first taught silent sins upon the stage."</p>

<p>That the Covent Garden manager, John <a name=
"fnref4-4">Rich</a>, <a class="footnote" href="#fn4-4">4</a> could
engage four French dancers, and a German with two dogs, taught to
dance the <em>Louvre</em> and the <em>Minuet</em>, at ten pounds a
night, and clear thereby "above 20 good houses," while the Othello
of Booth and the Wildair of Wilkes were neglected, was sufficient
to rouse the indignation alike of moralists, dramatists and
playgoers. Fielding in turn took the matter up with all his natural
warmth; and in <em>Pasquin</em> he represents the kingdom of the
Queen of Common Sense as invaded by a vast army of "singers,
fidlers, tumblers, and ropedancers," who moreover fix their
standard in Covent Garden, the headquarters of Rich.</p>

<p>Not content with assailing this public folly, the 'Tragedy' of
<em>Pasquin</em> strikes a higher note by ranging among the foes of
Common Sense three unworthy professors of Law, Medicine, and
Religion; callings, as Fielding is careful to point out,</p>

<p class="quoted">"in themselves designed<br>
 To shower the greatest blessings on Mankind."</p>

<p>Queen Common Sense seemingly receives her deathblow; but her
ghost finally rises victorious, and so justifies the author's
contention that his "is almost the only play where she has got the
better lately." The vigour with which Mr Pasquin here 'laid about
him,' in such matters as the legal abuses relating to imprisonment
for debt, may be inferred from the following passage. Queen Common
Sense is speaking to the representative of <em>bad</em> Law, and
tells him she has heard that men</p>

<p class="quoted">"unable to discharge their debts<br>
 At a short warning, being sued for them,<br>
 Have, with both power and will their debts to pay,<br>
 Lain all their lives in prison, for their costs.</p>

<p class="quoted"><em>Law</em>. That may perhaps be some poor
person's case<br>
 Too mean to entertain your royal ear.</p>

<p class="quoted"><em>Q.C.S</em>. My Lord, while I am Queen I shall
not think<br>
 One man too mean, or poor, to be redress'd."</p>

<p>So too, the great genius of Fielding, when in long after years
harnessed to the drudgery of a London magistrate, held no porter's
brawl or beggar's quarrel too mean "to be redress'd."</p>

<p>The immediate success of <em>Pasquin</em> attests, as we have
said, the readiness of London audiences in 1736 to applaud an
honest and humorous presentation of wicked Ministers, corrupt
clergy, lawyers, and doctors, inane Laureates, and degrading public
entertainments. Mrs Delany, gathering London news for Dean Swift,
writes on April 22, "When I went out of Town last Autumn, the
reigning madness was Farinelli; I find it now turned on
<em>Pasquin</em>, a dramatic satire on the times. It has had almost
as long a run as the Beggar's Opera; but in my opinion not with
equal merit, though it has <a name="fnref4-5">humour</a>." <a
class="footnote" href="#fn4-5">5</a> We are told how the piece drew
numerous enthusiastic audiences "from <em>Grosvenor</em>,
<em>Cavendish</em>, <em>Hanover</em>, and all the other fashionable
Squares, as also from <em>Pall Mall</em> and the <em>Inns of
Court</em>" And on the 26th of May a benefit performance for the
author was announced as the "60th. Day." The vogue of the satire
even demanded a key, as may be seen in an advertisement in the
<em>London Daily Post</em> for May 17: <em>This Day is published,
Price Four-Pence. A Key to Pasquin, address'd to Henry Fielding
Esqre.</em></p>

<p>Mr Pasquin's own advertisements for his little theatre are not
without the zest with which our beef-eating ancestors attacked
politics, social abuses and one another. The announcement for March
5, ran as follows:--</p>

<p>"<em>By the</em> Great Mogul's <em>Company of</em> English
<em>Comedians, Newly Imported</em>. At the New Theatre in the
Haymarket, this Day, March 5, will be presented</p>

<p class="quoted">PASQUIN,<br>
A Dramatick SATYR on the times.<br>
<br>
Being a Rehearsal of two PLAYS, viz. a Comedy call'd The ELECTION;
and a Tragedy, call'd The Life and Death of COMMON SENSE....<br>
<br>
N.B.--Mr Pasquin intending to lay about him with great
Impartiality, hopes the Town will all attend, and very civilly give
their Neighbours what the find belongs to 'em.<br>
<br>
N.B.--The Cloaths are old, but the Jokes entirely new...."</p>

<p>In the following month the Opposition was busy over the marriage
of their chief supporter, the Prince of Wales; and Mr Pasquin duly
chronicles the event in his advertisements of the 28th of April,
observing that his company "by reason of the Royal Wedding
expecting no Company but themselves, are obliged to defer Playing
till tomorrow." A few days later, on the 12th of May, Sir Robert
Walpole celebrated the royal marriage by a grand evening
entertainment given at his house in St James Park; and on the same
night 'Pasquin' had the audacity to advertise a special
performance, in the following terms (the "country party," it should
be understood, was a usual name for Walpole's opponents):--</p>

<p>"For the Benefit of Miss Burgess, who has so zealously espoused
the Country Interest.... Miss Burgess hopes all Patriots and Lovers
of their Country will appear in her favour and give all
encouragement to one who has so early distinguished herself on the
side of Liberty." In Pasquin's <em>Election</em> scenes, this lady
played the part of Miss Stitch, a political damsel, opposed to
Walpole's candidate. Next day appeared an ironic
counter-advertisement of a performance for "the Benefit of Miss
Jones (the Mayor's daughter who hath so furiously espoused the
Court [<em>i.e.</em> Walpole's] Interest....) <em>N.B.</em>--Miss
Jones does not doubt that all true loyal People will give her all
Encouragement in their Power, as she has engaged in so unpopular a
Side and even given away her FAN (which very few young ladies
would) for the service of the Country: she hopes the Courtiers will
not let her be out of pocket by the Bargain." Here, again, is
doubtless a hit at Lord 'Fanny' Hervey; as well as a plain hint
that those who espoused Walpole's cause might expect ample payment
for their trouble.</p>

<p>Is there any wonder that a wrathful and uneasy Minister, not yet
overthrown, shortly took stringent measures against the 'liberty'
of the stage; measures by which a political stage censorship was
formally established, and the topical gaiety of our theatre, and
the pungency of our theatrical announcements, henceforth
immeasurably dulled.</p>

<p>A few further points of minor interest remain to be noted
concerning that popular and scathing personage Mr Pasquin. By May
the company styled themselves "Pasquin's Company of Comedians"; a
fresh indication of the credit attaching to the performance. In the
previous month a contributor to <em>The Grub Street Journal</em>
tells "Dear Grub" that he has seen Pope applauding the piece; and,
although the statement was promptly denied, a rare print by Hogarth
lends some colour to a very likely story; for the great Mr Pope,
the terror of his enemies, the autocrat of literature, was warmly
on the side of the Opposition. Hogarth depicts the stage of
Fielding's theatre, and thereon a scene in the fifth act of
<em>Pasquin</em>, in which the foes of Queen Common Sense are for
the moment triumphant. The side boxes are well filled; and in one
of them Mr Pope's deformed figure, apparently, turns away,
declaring: "There is no whitewashing this stuff." The curious may
find another plate by Hogarth in which Pope <em>is</em> busy
whitewashing Lord Burlington; but the drift of the remark for the
Opposition drama of <em>Pasquin</em> seems obscure. The gains that
accrued to Fielding from the success of <em>Pasquin</em> are
indicated by another rare print, that entitled the <em>Judgement of
the Queen o' Common Sense. Addressed to Henry Fielding Esqre.</em>
Here, again, it is <em>Pasquin's</em> satire on the prevailing
furore for pantomime that is chiefly illustrated; as Common Sense
gives to Rich, the harlequin, a halter, while to Fielding she
accords an overflowing purse. Supporting Fielding are a long lean
Shakespeare, and two figures, possibly the distinguished players
Kitty Clive and Quin; on the opposite side, behind Harlequin, are
figures representing the bad clergy, lawyers, and doctors satirised
in the <em>Tragedy</em>; and the whole is balanced by the emergence
of the ghost in Hamlet, from a trap door in the foreground.
Doggerel verses, at the foot of the print, celebrate the arrival of
a bard, "from ye Great Mogul," bringing with him <em>Wit, Humour,
and Satyr</em>, and receiving the Queen's "honest favour," in
"show'rs of gold."</p>

<p>Under those golden showers, and with the applause of 'all the
fashionable Squares' ringing in his ears, we may leave Mr Pasquin.
Fielding's first venture as political dramatist and theatrical
manager had proved brilliantly successful; his little theatre, like
his own Tom Thumb, had assailed a dozen giant abuses, an
all-powerful Minister among them, and the town had applauded the
courage and wit of the performance. In the following season, those
same boards were to witness the author of <em>Pasquin</em> "laying
about him" with an even greater political audacity.</p>

<p><br>
<br>
</p>

<p class="centered"><a name="i348"><img src="images/348.jpg" alt=
"Cartoon celebrating the success of 'Pasquin'" width="573" height=
"500"></a></p>

<p>Content, doubtless, with the success of <em>Pasquin</em>,
Fielding does not seem to have launched any further political
attacks during the remaining months of 1736. A newspaper
advertisement of June announces the intention of the 'Great Mogul's
Company of Comedians' to continue "playing twice a week during the
summer season," and <em>Pasquin</em> remained occasionally in the
bills as late as the 2nd of July. The public were advised that
"This is much the coolest House in Town"; and audiences must have
been drawn even in August, for in that month one small and
presumably party play was performed, the <em>New Comi-Tragical
Interlude call'd the Deposing and Death of Queen Gin</em>. This
little piece consisted of only two scenes, and was probably a skit
on a Bill "against spirituous liquors" which Walpole had supported
earlier in the year. The measure met with violent opposition,
including petitions from the Liverpool and Bristol merchants; and
in view of Sir Robert's own notorious excesses with the bottle a
temperance Bill from his hands may well have roused Fielding's
ironic laughter. The authorship of the satire is unknown; but the
moral appears to have been unexceptionable, as <em>Queen Gin</em>,
in the final scene, "drinks a great quantity of liquor and at last
dies." Fielding clearly began his second year at the 'little
theatre' with some social or political exhortation, as the
following bill appears for January:--"By a Company of Comedians, At
the New Theatre in the Haymarket, this Day, January 26, will be
presented a Dramatick Satire on the Times (never performed before)
call'd The Mirrour." By February "the Original Company who
perform'd <em>Pasquin</em>" are notified on the bills; and on the
2nd of March a performance is announced of a <em>Dramatick Tale of
the King and the Miller of Mansfield</em>, presumably the same
<em>Miller of Mansfield</em> openly declared by one of Walpole's
"hired scribblers" to be aimed at the overthrow of the <a name=
"fnref4-6">Ministry</a>. <a class="footnote" href="#fn4-6">6</a>
All such preliminary skirmishes, however, served but to introduce
the grand attack of the <em>Historical Register for the Tear
1736</em>, the first performance of which may be assigned to the
end of March <a name="fnref4-7">1737</a>. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fn4-7">7</a></p>

<p>In the <em>Register</em> we have the most complete display of
Fielding's vigour as a fighting politician. Here, to recur to Mr
Pasquin's characteristic phrase, he "lays about him" with a gusto
and honest frankness quite lost among our own tepid conventions.
But however hard the hitting, however boisterous the broad humour,
however biting the irony, it is noteworthy that in this his chief
political satire, written moreover for a yet unregulated stage,
Fielding never stoops to the shameless personalities of his day.
The fashion of the eighteenth-century permitted even the great and
classical genius of Pope to hurl lines at the persons of his
opponents that, to modern ears, scarcely bear quotation. Fielding,
as we know, constantly asserted his intention of throwing not at
the vicious but at vice; and accordingly, even in this party play,
flung openly in the face of the Minister, there is but one
reference (and that only a fling at his "lack of any the least
taste in polite literature") to the notorious personal failings of
Sir Robert. It is against the Minister, and not the man, that the
hot-blooded Opposition dramatist directs his humour and his irony.
Fielding's manly and generous nature here permitted no virulent
personalities to blacken his <a name="fnref4-8">pages</a>. <a
class="footnote" href="#fn4-8">8</a></p>

<p>The irony of the <em>Register</em> is chiefly reserved for the
<em>Dedication to the Public</em>, designed for the reader at
leisure; though here Walpole is indicated broadly enough, first in
the figure of an ass hung out on a signpost, and again as "Old
Nick," for "who but the devil could act such a part." Here the
attacks of the Ministerial papers are parried by ironic
explanations that "The Register is a ministerial pamphlet
calculated to infuse into the minds of the people a great opinion
of their ministry," explanations full of admirable fencing and
excellent hits. And in these dedicatory pages Fielding utters a
sonorous warning to his countrymen concerning the insidious policy
that was undermining their very constitution: "... Here is the
danger, here is the rock on which our constitution must, if it ever
does split. The liberties of a people have been subdued by
conquests of valour and force, and have been betrayed by the subtle
and dexterous arts of refined policy, but these are rare instances;
for geniuses of this kind are not the growth of every age, whereas
if a general corruption be once introduced, and those, who should
be the guardians and bulwarks of our liberty, once find or think
they find an interest in giving it up, no great capacity will be
required to destroy it. On the contrary the meanest, lowest,
dirtiest fellow, if such an one should ever have the assurance in
future ages to mimick power, and browbeat his betters, will be as
able as Machiavel himself could have been, to root out the
liberties of the bravest people." From the solemnities of the
<em>Dedication</em> we come to the "humming deal of satire," and
the boisterous action, of the play itself. As in the case of
<em>Pasquin</em> the form of the drama is that of a rehearsal, a
form which affords excellent opportunities for such explanatory
asides as that addressed to the critic who complains of the attempt
to review a year's events in a single play: "Sir," says the author,
"if I comprise the whole actions of a year in half an hour, will
you blame me, or those who have done so little in that time?" The
long years of Walpole's power were admittedly "years without
parallel in our history, for political stagnation." Scene one
discovers five 'blundering blockheads' of politicians, in counsel
with one silent "little gentleman yonder in the chair;" who knows
all and says nothing, and whose politics lie so deep that "nothing
but an inspir'd understanding can come at 'em." The blockheads,
however, have capacity enough to snatch hastily at the money lying
on their council table. Walpole's jealousy of power, it may be
remembered, had driven almost every man of ability out of his
ministry. Then comes a vivacious parody on the fashionable auctions
of the day. Lots comprising "a most curious remnant of Political
Honesty," a "delicate piece of Patriotism," and a "very clear
Conscience which has been worn by a judge and a bishop" and on
which no dirt will stick, go for little or nothing, while Lot 8, "a
very considerable quantity of Interest at Court," excites brisk
bidding, and is finally knocked down for one thousand pounds. From
the excellent fooling of the auction, the action suddenly changes
to combined satire on the Ministry and on the two Cibbers, father
and son. The Ministry are ingeniously implied to have been damn'd
by the public; to give places with no attention to the capacity of
the recipient; and to laugh at the dupes by whose money they live.
A like weakness for putting blockheads in office and for giving
places to rogues, and a like contempt of the public, is
allegorically conveyed in the third act, in which 'Apollo' casts
the parts for a performance among sundry unworthy actors, and
declares that the people may grumble 'as much as they please, as
long as we get their money.' "There sir," cries the author to the
critic of the rehearsal, "is the sentiment of a great man." The
<em>Great Man</em> was a phrase, to use Pope's words, "by common
use appropriated to the first minister"--that is, to Walpole. In
the next scene the effrontery of the piece culminates in a ballet
where the Prime Minister appears, leading a chorus of false
patriots, who, to use Fielding's own words, are set in the 'odious
and contemptible light' of a set of "cunning self-interested
fellows who for a little paltry bribe would give up the liberties
and properties of their country." These worthy patriots are of four
types, the noisy, the cautious, the self-interested (he whose shop
is his country) and the indolent ("who acts as I have seen a
prudent man in company, fall asleep at the beginning of a fray and
never wake 'till the end o't"). To them enters Quidam, unblushingly
announced in the play bill as "Quidam, Anglice a Certain Person,"
in other words Walpole himself. Quidam pours gold into the pockets
of the four patriots, drinks with them, and then, when the 'bottle
is out' (a too frequent occurrence at Sir Robert's table) takes up
his fiddle, strikes up a tune and dances off, the patriots dancing
after him. But even this is not all. "Sir," says the author, "every
one of these patriots have a hole in their pockets as Mr Quidam the
fiddler there knows; so that he intends to make them dance 'till
all the money is fall'n through, which he will pick up again and so
not lose one halfpenny by his generosity...." We may suppose that
the final scene lost nothing in breadth by the acting of Quidam;
and it is not surprising that the immediate result was the
subjugation not, alas! of the Ministry, but of the liberty of the
stage. Walpole's fall was delayed for three years; the destruction
of the political stage was accomplished in three months.</p>

<p>It is difficult to imagine that any party, in those days of
comparatively arbitrary power, would venture a public satire so
unveiled and so menacing as that of the <em>Register</em>, unless
supported by some confidence in the immediate fall of their
opponents. Without such confidence the political tactics of such an
onslaught would be simple foolhardiness. Signs of these false hopes
are not wanting in the slight, but equally bold, satire on the
sycophants represented as composing Walpole's <em>levée</em>, which
was shortly added to the <em>Register</em>. This little sketch, in
which a protest concerning the damning, early in the year, of
Fielding's ballad farce <em>Eurydice</em> is combined with the
political satire, was advertised as follows:--</p>

<p>"EURYDICE HISS'D: or, a Word to the Wise, giving an Account of
the Rise, Progress, Greatness, and Downfal of Mr Pillage, ... with
the dreadful Consequence and Catastrophe of the <a name=
"fnref4-9">whole</a>." <a class="footnote" href="#fn4-9">9</a></p>

<p>We have the authority of Tom Davies, at this time a member of
Fielding's company, for the statement that "Fielding in his
<em>Eurydice Hiss'd</em> had brought on the Minister [Walpole] in a
<em>levée</em> <a name="fnref4-10">scene</a>" <a class="footnote"
href="#fn4-10">10</a>; and as Pillage is the "very great man" who
holds the <em>levée</em> in the fragment, the above allusion to an
expected downfall of Walpole's Ministry seems obvious. Passages of
similar import to the advertisement occur in the piece itself. Thus
the play is declared to convey a "beautiful image of the
instability of human greatness"; and the spectacle is promised of
the 'author of a mighty farce' at the pinnacle of human greatness
and adored by a crowd of dependants, become by a sudden turn of
fortune, scorned, "deserted and abandon'd."</p>

<p>The single scene of the play opens when Pillage is at the zenith
of his power; a stage direction orders that "The Lèvee enters, and
range themselves to a ridiculous tune"; a partition of places
ensues under the allegory of the business arrangements of a
theatrical manager; and the author explains that by this
<em>levée</em> scene he hopes that persons greater than
author-managers may learn to despise sycophants. Close on the heels
of the <em>levée</em> comes the catastrophe. Not one honest man,
Pillage sadly admits, is on his side; as his 'shallow plot' opens
out the first applause changes to hisses; his farce is damn'd; and
he himself is left consoling the solitude of his downfall by
getting exceedingly drunk on a third bottle.</p>

<p>The figure of a fallen Minister boozing away his own intolerable
reflections, was not calculated to pacify that notoriously hard
drinker, Sir Robert, already soundly pilloried in the
<em>Register</em>, and severely indited by <em>Pasquin</em>. By the
end of April the <em>Register</em> had reached its thirty-first
performance, a good run at that date; and according to an
advertisement in the <em>Craftsman</em> the satire was still being
played on the 7th of May. In little more than four weeks, and after
the alleged perpetration of a treasonable and profane farce called
<em>The Golden Rump</em>, a Bill for stifling the liberty of the
stage under a censorship was introduced, had passed through both
Houses, and received the royal assent. Well might Lord Chesterfield
exclaim in the brilliant speech which, in Smollet's words, "will
ever endear his character to all the friends of genius and
literature, to all those who are warmed with zeal for the liberties
of their country," that the Bill was not only "of a very
extraordinary nature, but has been brought in at a very
extraordinary season and pushed with very extraordinary despatch."
Concerning the nature of the measure Chesterfield had no doubt. He
saw its tendency towards restraining the "liberty of the Press
which will be a long stride towards the destruction of Liberty
itself"; he pointed out that a Minister who has merited the esteem
of the people will neither fear the wit nor feel the satire of the
theatre; he denounced the subjugation of the stage under "an
arbitrary Court license" which would convert it into a canal for
conveying the vices and follies of "great men and Courtiers"
through the whole kingdom; he protested against the Bill as an
encroachment not only on liberty but also on property, for "Wit, my
Lords, is a sort of property; it is the property of those that have
it, and too often the only property that they have to depend
on."</p>

<p>As a manager of the intrepid little theatre in the Haymarket, as
well as the author of the most successful of the offending plays,
the Licensing Act fell with double weight on Fielding. "When I
speak against the Bill," cried Chesterfield, "I must think I plead
the cause of Wit, I plead the cause of Humour, I plead the cause of
the British Stage, and of every gentleman of taste in the Kingdom."
Looking back over two centuries, we honour Chesterfield in that,
unknown to himself, he also pleaded the cause of the greatest of
English humourists. But appeals on behalf of genius and freedom
were thrown away upon Walpole; the Act received the royal assent on
June 21 1737; and, in the honourable company of Wit, Humour, and
Taste, Fielding was forced to retire from the theatre, on the
boards of which he had for two years so vigorously assailed
Ministerial corruption and autocracy.</p>

<h2><a name="chapter5">CHAPTER V</a><br>
<br>
HOMESPUN DRAMA</h2>

<p class="quoted">"Virtue distrest in humble state support."<br>
 &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Prologue to <em>Fatal Curiosity</em>.</p>

<p>The Licensing Act of June 1737 thus brought Henry Fielding's
career as political dramatist to a hasty conclusion; a conclusion
quite unforeseen by the luckless author, as appears from his
<em>Dedication</em> to the <em>Historical Register</em>, published
almost at the moment when the Act became law: "The very great
indulgence you have shown my performances at the little theatre
these two last years," he says, addressing his public, "have
encouraged me to the proposal of a subscription for carrying on
that theatre, for beautifying and enlarging it, and procuring a
better company of actors."</p>

<p class="centered"><a name="i349"><img src="images/349.jpg" alt=
"The Little Theatre in the Haymarket" width="604" height="500">
</a></p>

<p>Before finally losing sight of the stage on which
<em>Pasquin</em> and the <em>Register</em> had scored such signal
success, we may notice some minor incidents of these two years of
Fielding's administration. His company does not seem to have
included either Macklin, Quin, or Kitty Clive; but that
distinguished actress Mrs Pritchard, the central figure of
Hogarth's charming group called "The Green Room, Drury Lane," is
said to have made her first appearance on his <a name=
"fnref5-1">boards</a>, <a class="footnote" href="#fn5-1">1</a> and
his players also included that man of many parts Tom Davies. Davies
was a student of Edinburgh University; an actor at Drury Lane and
elsewhere; a bookseller of whom the elder D'Israeli said 'all his
publications were of the best kind'; the writer of various works
including a <em>Life of Garrick</em>; and a particular friend of Dr
Johnson. In the first year of Fielding's management in the
Haymarket, Davies was cast for a principal part in George Lillo's
tragedy <em>Fatal Curiosity</em>; and it is to his pen that we owe
the only known contemporary reference to the active part taken by
Fielding himself in the affairs of his theatre.</p>

<p class="centered"><a name="i350"><img src="images/350.jpg" alt=
"The Green Room, Drury Lane" width="553" height="500"></a></p>

<p>Lillo, a jeweller of Moorfields, had captured the town, a few
years previously, by his tragedy of common life, <em>George
Barnwell</em>; and among the dramatists selected by Fielding for
representation on his stage the most interesting is undoubtedly
this pioneer of the coming revolution in English literature. For,
incredible as it may seem, until that first performance of
<em>Barnwell</em>, no writer, to quote Tom Davies' own words "had
ventured to descend so low as to introduce the character of a
merchant or his apprentice into a tragedy." Certain "witty and
facetious persons who call themselves the town," continues Davies,
brought to the first night copies of the old ballad on which the
jeweller's play was based, meaning to mock the new tragedy with the
old song; but so forcible and pathetic were Lillo's scenes that
these merry gentlemen were obliged "to throw away their ballads,
and take out their handkerchiefs." More tears, we learn, were shed
over this 'homespun drama' than at all the imitations of ancient
fables by learned moderns. To Fielding this revolution, from the
buskin'd heroics of the Alexanders and Clelias to the living and
natural pathos of the tragedy of a poor London apprentice, must
have appealed with extraordinary force; for it is the especial
glory of his own genius that, throwing aside all the traditions of
his age, and 'adventuring on one of the most original expeditions
that ever a writer <a name="fnref5-2">undertook</a>,' <a class=
"footnote" href="#fn5-2">2</a> he was to discover a new world for
English fiction, the world of simple human nature. That expedition
must have been already forming in his mind when, night after night,
in the hottest part of the year, <em>George Barnwell</em> was
playing to crowded houses, and convincing the astonished audiences
of 1731 that even so low a creature as a London apprentice was
possessed of passions extremely like their own. Some ten years
later, when Fielding revealed the first true sign of his own
surpassing genius in the <em>History of the Adventures of Joseph
Andrews</em>, he chose for his hero a country footman. The worthy
City jeweller was, in his own limited measure, the forerunner, on
the stage, of that new era in English literature created by honest
Andrews and Parson Adams, Partridge and Mrs Slipslop, Fanny and
Sergeant Atkinson, Tow-wouse and Mrs Miller, to name but a few of
Fielding's immortal portraits, drawn from the 'vast authentic book
of Nature.'</p>

<p>It is no wonder then, to return to Tom Davies, that a play by
Lillo was announced on the bills of Fielding's theatre within a few
months of the opening of his management. On May 27, 1736, the
following advertisement appeared:</p>

<p class="quoted">"Guilt its Own Punishment. Never Acted before. By
Pasquin's Company of Comedians. Being a True Story in Common Life
and the Incidents extremely affecting." By the Author of George
Barnwell.</p>

<p>Davies' part in the play was a chief one, that of young Wilmot,
and the story of the performance may be given in his own words. "Mr
Fielding, who had a just sense of our author's merit, and who had
often in his humourous pieces laughed at those ridiculous and
absurd criticks who could not possibly understand the merit of
Barnwell, because the subject was low, treated Lillo with great
politeness and friendship. He took upon himself the management of
the play and the instruction of the actors. It was during the
rehearsal of the <em>Fatal Curiosity</em> that I had an opportunity
to see and to converse with Mr Lillo. Plain and simple as he was in
his address, his manner of conversing was modest affable and
engaging. When invited to give his opinion how a particular
sentiment should be uttered by the actor he expresst himself in the
gentlest and most obliging terms, and conveyed instruction and
conviction with good nature and good manners.... Fielding was not
content merely to revise the 'Fatal Curiosity,' and to instruct the
actors how to do justice to their parts. He warmly recommended the
play to his friends and to the public. Besides all this he
presented the author with a well written prologue."</p>

<p>This <em>Prologue</em>, which has apparently hitherto escaped
the collectors of Fielding's <em>Works</em>, seems worthy of a
reprint here, if only for its characteristic sympathy with virtue
and distress 'in humble state,' and for the opening tribute to
'Shakespeare's nature' and to 'Fletcher's ease.'</p>

<p class="quoted">PROLOGUE TO THE FATAL CURIOSITY<br>
<br>
 "The Tragic Muse has long forgot to please<br>
 With Shakespeare's nature or with Fletcher's ease:<br>
 No passion mov'd, thro' five long acts you sit,<br>
 Charm'd with the poet's language or his wit.<br>
 Fine things are said, no matter whence they fall;<br>
 Each single character must speak them all.<br>
<br>
"But from this modern fashionable way<br>
 To-night our author begs your leave to stray.<br>
 No fustian hero rages here to-night,<br>
 No armies fall to fix a tyrant's right:<br>
 From lower life we draw our scenes' distress:<br>
 --Let not your equals move your pity less!<br>
 Virtue distrest in humble state support;<br>
 Nor think she never lives without the court.<br>
<br>
"Tho' to our scenes no royal robes belong<br>
 And tho' our little stage as yet be young<br>
 Throw both your scorn and prejudice aside;<br>
 Let us with favour not contempt be try'd,<br>
 Thro' the first act a kind attention lend<br>
 The growing scene shall force you to attend:<br>
 Shall catch the eyes of every tender fair,<br>
 And make them charm their lovers with a tear.<br>
 The lover too by pity shall impart<br>
 His tender passion to his fair one's heart:<br>
 The breast which others' anguish cannot move<br>
 Was ne'er the seat of friendship or of love."</p>

<p>Notwithstanding all the manager's friendly efforts, the play met
at first with very little success, a failure in Davies' opinion
"owing in all probability to its being brought on in the latter
part of the season, when the public had been satiated with a long
run of <em>Pasquin</em>," but, he adds, "it is with pleasure I
observe that Fielding generously persisted to serve the man whom he
had once espoused; he tacked the 'Fatal Curiosity' to his
Historical Register which was played with great success in the
ensuing <a name="fnref5-3">winter</a>." <a class="footnote" href=
"#fn5-3">3</a> We owe no inconsiderable debt to Tom Davies in that
he has preserved for us this picture of Fielding, actively engaged
in the stage-management of his little theatre; a picture, moreover,
that does equal honour to the brilliant wit, the successful
political satirist, and to that modest, gentle Nonconformist poet,
the man of whom it was said that he "had the spirit of an old Roman
joined to the innocence of a Primitive Christian," George
Lillo.</p>

<p>A few weeks before the production of Lillo's tragedy, and while
<em>Pasquin</em> was still in the full tide of political success,
an event occurred of closer import to Fielding's affectionate
nature than all the applause of the Opposition and the town. This
was the birth, in April, 1736, of his daughter Charlotte. No
English writer has left more charming pictures of mother and child
than those we owe to the tenderness and simplicity of Fielding's
pen. When we find Squire Western turning, in his latter days, to
Sophia's nursery, and hear him declaring that the prattling of his
granddaughter is "sweeter Music than the finest Cry of Dogs in
<em>England</em>" when we see Captain Booth stretched at full
length on the floor of his poor lodgings, with his "little
innocents" jumping over him, we are almost inclined to forgive
alike the brutalities of the old foxhunter, and the weaknesses of
the young soldier. Fielding's affection for his children, his
apprehensions for their ultimate provision, his anxiety in their
sickness, his grief at the loss of a little daughter, are manifest
in his pages. If anything could exceed the satisfaction which the
brilliant success of <em>Pasquin</em> must have given to his
buoyant nature, it would be the birth of this, the first child
apparently, of his marriage with the beautiful Charlotte Cradock.
The entry in the registers of St Martin's in the Fields runs as
follows: Baptized May 19th, 1736 Charlotte Fielding, of Henry and
Charlotte, Born April 27th.</p>

<p>The dates of <em>Pasquin</em>, of Lillo's tragedy, and of the
<em>Historical Register</em>, cover a considerable portion of the
years 1736, 1737, and their production in a theatre under
Fielding's own management practically presupposes his presence in
London at that time. This by no means fits in with Murphy's
implication that Fielding retired to Stour on his marriage, and
that, remaining there, he ran through his "little patrimony," in
"less than three years." A complete country retirement cannot be
assigned to those busy years in the Haymarket; and in 1736 the
journey from London to Dorsetshire was no trifling undertaking. But
it seems quite possible that Fielding and his wife went down to
their small estate in Dorsetshire for part or all of the summer,
autumn and winter of both 1736 and 1737. This would cover the
hunting months, and "hounds and horses," according to Murphy,
filled a large part in Fielding's country life at Stour; the time
would be that of the comparatively dull season for the theatre in
the Haymarket; and, with the year immediately preceding
<em>Pasquin</em>, we should thus, perhaps, account sufficiently for
Murphy's "three years". Certain passages in the
<em>Miscellanies</em>, published long after the pleasant meadows
and the modest house at Stour--no less than the turmoil of the
green-room and the crowded political audiences in the
Haymarket--were things of the past, have a personal ring,
reminiscent perhaps of such months of "sweet Retirement" in
Dorsetshire. Thus one of the characters in the <em>Journey from
this World to the next</em> recalls the change, from a life of
"restless Anxieties," to a "little pleasant Country House, where
there was nothing grand or superfluous, but everything neat and
agreeable"; and how, after a little time, "I began to share the
Tranquillity that visibly appeared in everything round me. I set
myself to do Works of Fancy and to raise little Flower-Gardens,
with many such innocent rural Amusements; which altho' they are not
capable of affording any great Pleasure, yet they give that serene
Turn of the Mind, which I think much preferable to anything else
Human Nature is made susceptible of." To this pleasant picture of
"rural Amusements," and tranquillity, it is surely not impertinent
to add this further passage, as a possible echo of Charlotte
Fielding's thought, well acquainted as she must have been both with
the "sweetly winding banks of Stour" and with the clamorous
successes of political drama: "in all these various Changes I never
enjoyed any real Satisfaction, unless in the little time I lived
retired in the Country free from all Noise and Hurry."</p>

<p>In the summer or autumn of 1737 the curtain was finally rung
down on all the 'noise and hurry,' the achievements and audacities
of Fielding's "little stage"; a few months later, and the country
retirement at Stour had also become but a memory of that short life
into which he managed to compress "more variety of Scenes than many
People who live to be very old."</p>

<h2><a name="chapter6">CHAPTER VI</a><br>
<br>
BAR STUDENT. JOURNALIST</h2>

<p class="quoted">"the ... Covetous, the Prodigal, the Ambitious,
the Voluptuous, the Bully, the Vain, the Hypocrite, the Flatterer,
the Slanderer, call aloud for the <em>Champion's</em>
Vengeance."--The <em>Champion</em>, Dec. 22, 1739.</p>

<p>There is no record of when or how Fielding disposed of his share
in the management of the New Theatre in the Haymarket. But on June
21 1737, Walpole's Bill for regulating the stage received, as we
have seen, the royal assent; and there can be no doubt that Sir
Robert would at once apply his newly acquired powers to removing
the dances of the fiddler, Mr Quiddam, and the drunken consolations
of Mr Pillage, from the Haymarket boards, if indeed these gentlemen
had not anticipated events by already removing themselves. We may
safely assume that Henry Fielding's career as political dramatist
came to an abrupt conclusion some time in the summer of <a name=
"fnref6-1">1737</a>. <a class="footnote" href="#fn6-1">1</a></p>

<p>It remains a matter for speculation why, after seven years spent
in producing a stream of not unsuccessful social comedies and
farces, leading up to a final and brilliant success in the field of
political satiric drama, Fielding should have thrown up the stage
as a whole, when suddenly debarred from those party onslaughts
which had occupied but a fraction of his dramatic energies. The
cause was not any lack of popularity. "The farces written by Mr
Fielding," wrote Murphy in 1762, "were almost all of them very
successful, and many of them are still acted every winter, with a
continuance of approbation." And it is obvious that the fashionable
vices and follies of the time afforded ample inducement to a
satiric dramatist to continue 'laying about him,' even when
Ministerial offences had been rendered inviolate by Act of
Parliament. Neither was Fielding's sanguine temperament likely to
be daunted by the single failure of his farce <em>Eurydice</em>,
which had been damned at Drury Lane on February 19 of this same
year: "disagreeable impressions," Murphy tells us, "never continued
long upon his mind." The most satisfactory solution of the matter
seems to be that now, in the approaching maturity of his powers,
the 'Father of the English Novel' was becoming conscious that the
true field for his genius lay in a hitherto unattempted form of
imaginative narration, and not within the five acts of comedy or
farce. The entirely original conceptions of a <em>Joseph
Andrews</em> and a <em>Jonathan Wild</em> may already have begun to
captivate the vigorous energies of his mind. We have his own word
for assigning "some years" to the writing of <em>Tom Jones</em>; it
is therefore not unreasonable to suppose that the conception of the
first English "Comic Epic Poem in Prose" may date as far back as
the summer of 1737.</p>

<p>Leaving surmise for fact, it is certain that this year marks the
dividing line in Fielding's life.</p>

<p>Henceforth he ceases to be the witty, facile, popular dramatist;
and he enters slowly on his birthright as the first in time, if not
in genius, of English novelists. To this complete severance from
the theatre belongs his own remark that "he left off writing for
the stage when he ought to have begun." Arrived at a late maturity,
and with accumulated stores of observation and insight,--"he saw
the latent sources of human action," says Murphy--his genius
happily turned into a channel carved, with splendid originality,
for itself alone. After nine years of servitude to the limitations
of dramatic construction, limitations he was wont to relieve, as
his friend James Harris tells us, by "pleasantly though perhaps
rather freely" <em>damning the man who invented fifth acts</em>,
Fielding was now soon to discover his freedom in the spacious,
hitherto unadventured, regions of prose fiction. But genius,
especially genius with wife and child to support, cannot maintain
life on inspiration alone; and, accordingly, the ex-dramatist now
flung himself, with characteristic impetuosity and courage, into a
struggle for independence at the Bar, perhaps the most arduous
profession, under all the circumstances, that he could have chosen.
For a reputation as the writer of eighteen comedies, and as the
reckless political dramatist whose boisterous energies had set the
town ringing with <em>Pasquin</em> and the <em>Register</em>, the
fame in short of being the successful manager of <em>The Great
Mogul's Company of Comedians</em>, was surely the last reputation
in the world to bring a man briefs from cautious attorneys. And,
with whatever hopes of political patronage, any temperament less
buoyant might well have hesitated to embark on reading for the Bar
at the age of thirty. But "by dificulties," says his earliest
biographer, "his resolution was never subdued; on the contrary they
only roused him to struggle through them with a peculiar spirit and
magnanimity." So, within six months of the closing down of his
little theatre under Walpole's irate hand, Fielding had formally
entered himself as a student at the Middle Temple.</p>

<p>The entry in the books of that society runs as follows:--</p>

<p class="quoted">[574 G] 1 Nov'ris. 1737.<br>
<br>
<em>Henricus Fielding, de East Stour in Com Dorset Ar, filius et
haeres apparens Brig: Gen'lis: Edmundi Fielding admissus est in
Societatem Medii Templi Lond specialiter at obligatur una cum
&amp;c.<br>
<br>
Et dat pro fine</em> 4. 0. 0.</p>

<p>Of the ensuing two and a half years of student life in the
Temple we know practically nothing, beyond one vivacious picture of
Harry Fielding's attack upon the law. "His application while a
student in the Temple," writes Murphy, "was remarkably intense; and
though it happened that the early taste he had taken of pleasure
would occasionally return upon him, and conspire with his spirits
and vivacity to carry him into the wild enjoyments of the town, yet
it was particular in him that amidst all his dispositions nothing
could suppress the thirst he had for knowledge, and the delight he
felt in reading; and this prevailed in him to such a degree, that
he has been frequently known by his intimates, to retire late at
night from a tavern to his chambers, and there read and make
extracts from the most abstruse authors, for several hours before
he went to bed; so powerful were the vigour of his constitution and
the activity of his mind."</p>

<p>One of the few pages of Fielding's autograph that have come down
to us is presumably a relic of these student days. In the catalogue
of the <em>Morrison Manuscripts</em> occurs this description of two
undated pages in his hand: "List of offences against the King and
his state immediately, which the Law terms High Treason. Offences
against him in a general light as touching the Commonwealth at
large, as Trade etc. Offences against him as supreme Magistrate
etc." Were ever genius and wit more straitly or more honourably
shackled than that of Henry Fielding, gallantly accepting such toil
as this, toil moreover that must have weighed with double weight on
a man who had spent nine years in the company of those charming if
'fickle jades' the Muses.</p>

<p>All efforts have failed to trace where Fielding and his wife and
child (or children--the date of the birth of his daughter Harriet
is not known) lived during these laborious months; but that money
was needed in the summer following his entry at the Middle Temple
may be inferred from the sale of the property at Stour. According
to the legal note of this <a name="fnref6-2">transaction</a>, <a
class="footnote" href="#fn6-2">2</a> "Henry ffeilding and Charlotte
his wife" conveyed, in the Trinity Term of 1738, to one Thomas
Hayter, for the sum of £260, "two messuages, two dove-houses, three
gardens, three orchards, fifty acres of Land, eighty acres of
meadow, one hundred and forty acres of pasture, ten acres of wood
and common and pasture for all manner of cattle with the
appurtenances in East Stour." It does not need a very active
imagination to realise the keen regret with which Fielding must
have parted with his gardens and orchards, his pastures, woods and
commons. Sixty years ago the barn and one of the "dove-houses" had
been but recently pulled down; and to this day the estate is still
known as "Fielding's <a name="fnref6-3">Farm</a>." <a class=
"footnote" href="#fn6-3">3</a></p>

<p>It has been stated, on what authority does not appear, that,
after leaving Stour, Fielding went to Salisbury, and there bought a
house, his solicitor being a Mr John Perm Tinney. Whatever be the
fact as to the Salisbury residence, it is certain that a full year
after the sale of the Dorsetshire property the Temple student was
by no means at the end of his resources. For in the following <a
name="fnref6-4">letter</a> <a class="footnote" href="#fn6-4">4</a>
to Mr Nourse, the bookseller, dated July 1739, we find him
requiring a London house at a rent of forty pounds and with a large
"eating Parlour."</p>

<p><br>
</p>

<p>"Mr Nourse,</p>

<p>Disappointments have hitherto prevented my paying y'r Bill,
which, I shall certainly do on my coming to Town which will be next
Month. I desire the favour of y'u to look for a House for me near
the Temple. I must have one large eating Parlour in it for the rest
shall not be very nice.</p>

<p>Rent not upwards of £40 p. an: and as much cheaper as may be. I
will take a Lease for Seven years. Yr Answer to this within a
fortnight will much oblige.</p>

<p>Y'r Humble Serv't<br>
Henry Ffielding.<br>
I have got Cro: <a name="fnref6-5">Eliz</a>. <a class="footnote"
href="#fn6-5">5</a><br>
"July 9th 1739."</p>

<p>This note, written a year before Fielding's call to the Bar,
suggests that his early married life was by no means spent in the
"wretched garrett" of Lady Louisa Stuart's celebrated
reminiscence.</p>

<p>In the September following the sale of his Dorsetshire estate
Fielding had to regret the death of George Lillo, to whose success
he had devoted so much personal care and energy, when staging
Lillo's tragedy <em>Fatal Curiosity</em> on the boards of the
little theatre in the Haymarket. The close relationship in
intellectual sympathy between Lillo's talent and the genius of
Fielding has already been noticed. But apart from this intellectual
sympathy, the personal worth and charm of the good tradesman is
noteworthy, as affording striking proof of the quality of man
chosen by the 'wild Harry Fielding' for regard and friendship. And
it should be remembered that in those days to bridge the social
gulf between the kinsman of the Earl of Denbigh and a working
jeweller, required courage as well as insight. Some time after
Lillo's death a generous memorial notice of him appeared in
Fielding's paper the <em>Champion</em>. The writer detects in his
work "an Heart capable of exquisitely Feeling and Painting human
Distresses, but of causing none"; and declares that his title to be
called the best tragic poet of his age, "was the least of his
Praise, he had the gentlest and honestest Manners, and, at the same
Time, the most friendly and obliging. He had a perfect Knowledge of
Human Nature, though his Contempt of all base Means of Application,
which are the necessary Steps to great Acquaintance, restrained his
Conversation within very narrow Bounds: He had the Spirit of an old
<em>Roman</em>, joined to the Innocence of a primitive Christian;
he was content with his little State of Life, in which his
excellent Temper of Mind gave him an Happiness, beyond the Power of
Riches, and it was necessary for his Friends to have a sharp
Insight into his Want of their Services, as well as good
Inclinations or Abilities to serve him. In short he was one of the
best of Men, and those who knew him best will most regret his <a
name="fnref6-6">Loss</a>." <a class="footnote" href="#fn6-6">6</a>
In the excellent company of Henry Fielding's friends George Lillo
may surely take his stand beside the 'good Lord Lyttelton,' the
munificent and pious Allen, and not far from 'Parson Adams'
himself.</p>

<p>No record has survived of Fielding's share in the political
struggles of his party, during his first two years of "intense
application" to the law. Walpole's power had been sensibly lessened
by the death of the Queen, and he was losing the support of the
country and even of the trading classes. The Prince of Wales, now
openly hostile to the "great man," was the titular head of an
Opposition numbering almost all the men of wit and genius in the
kingdom. Lyttelton, Fielding's warmest friend, had become secretary
to the Prince, and was recognised as a fluent leader of the
Opposition in the House of Commons. Another friend, John Duke of
Argyll, had joined the ranks of the Opposition in the Lords. On the
whole the author of <em>Pasquin</em>, may well have hoped for a
speedy fall of the "Colossos," with "its Brains of Lead, its Face
of Brass, its Hands of Iron, its Heart of Adamant," and the
accession to power of a party not without obligations to the
fearless manager of the little theatre in the Haymarket. During
these years the Opposition, even though supported by Pope and
Chesterfield, Thomson and Bolingbroke, could scarcely fail to
utilise the trenchant scorn, the whole-hearted vigour, the
boisterous humour, of Fielding's genius; and Murphy, speaking
vaguely of Fielding's legal years, says that a "large number of
fugitive political tracts, which had their value when the incidents
were actually passing on the great scene of business, came from his
pen." It is not however till November 1739, two years and a half
after the pillorying of Walpole on the Haymarket boards, that
Fielding is again clearly seen, 'laying about' him, in those
clamourous eighteenth-century politics.</p>

<p>His choice of a new weapon of attack is foreshadowed in the
noble concluding words of the <em>Introduction</em> to the
<em>Historical Register</em>; words written on the very eve of the
Ministerial Bill gagging that and all other political plays: "If
nature hath given me any talents at ridiculing vice and imposture,
I shall not be indolent, nor afraid of exerting them, while the
liberty of the press and stage subsists, that is to say while we
have any liberty left among us." A few weeks after these words were
published the liberty of the stage was triumphantly stifled by
Walpole's Licensing Bill. But even "old Bob" himself dared not lay
his hand on the liberty of the British Press; and so we find Mr
Pasquin reappearing under the guise, or in the company, of the
<em>Champion and Censor of Great Britain</em>, otherwise one
<em>Captain Hercules Vinegar</em>, a truculent avenger of wrong and
exponent of virtue, in whose fictitious name a political, literary,
and didactic newspaper entered the field of party politics on
November 15, 1739. The paper, under the title of the
<em>Champion</em>, was issued three times a week, and consisted of
one leading article, an anti-Ministerial summary of news, and
literary notices of new books. The first number announced that the
author and owner was the said Captain Hercules Vinegar, and that
the Captain would be aided in various departments by members of his
family. Thus the Captain's wife, Mrs Joan Vinegar, a matron of a
very loquacious temper, was to undertake the ladies' column, and
his son Jack was to have "an Eye over the gay Part of the Town."
The criticism was to be conducted by Mr Nol Vinegar who was
reported to have spent one whole year in examining the use of a
single word in Horace. And the politics were to be dealt forth by
the Captain's father, a gentleman intimately versed in kingdoms,
potentates and Ministers, and of so close a disposition that he
"seldom opens his Mouth, unless it be to take in his Food, or puff
out the Smoke of his Tobacco."</p>

<p>The paper bore no signed articles; but judging from an attack
levelled against it in a pamphlet of the following <a name=
"fnref6-7">year</a>, <a class="footnote" href="#fn6-7">7</a>
Fielding and his former not very worshipful partner in the
Haymarket management, James Ralph, were the reputed "authors,"
Ralph being in a subordinate position. Thus, it is stated that
Ralph, "is now say'd to be the 'Squire of the <em>British</em>
CHAMPION"; the writer identifies <em>Captain Vinegar</em> and the
author of <em>Pasquin</em> as one and the same person; he describes
Pasquin and Ralph as the "Authors of the Champion"; he asserts that
the old Roman statues of Pasquin and Marfario, "are now dignified
and distinguished (by The CHAMPION and his doughty Squire RALPH),
under the Names [<em>sic</em>] of Captain Hercules Vinegar."; he
prints an address to the "<em>Self-dubb'd Captain</em> Hercules
Vinegar," and his "Man <em>Ralph</em>"; and appends some doggerel
verse entitled "Vinegar and his gang." But from all this nothing
definite emerges as to the precise part taken by Fielding in the
authorship of the <em>Champion</em>. The pamphleteer accredits a
fragment of a paper signed C. to the <em>Captain</em>, and
attributes two <a name="fnref6-8">papers</a>, <a class="footnote"
href="#fn6-8">8</a> signed C. and L., to "Mr
Pasquin"--<em>i.e.</em> Fielding; and as the reprint of the
<em>Champion</em>, which appeared in 1741, announces that all
papers so signed are the "Work of one Hand," there is so much
external proof that all such pages in these volumes (numbering some
sixty essays) are by Fielding. Dr Nathan Drake, writing in 1809,
more than sixty years after the appearance of the paper, asserts,
without stating his reasons, that the numbers marked "C." and "L."
"were the work of Fielding." This view is further supported by the
opinion of Mr Austin Dobson, that many of the papers signed
<em>C.</em> "are unmistakably Fielding's."</p>

<p>On the other hand Murphy, writing only twenty-two years after
the appearance of the paper, but often with gross inaccuracy,
states that the <em>Champion</em> "owed its chief support to his
[Fielding's] abilities," but that "his essays in that collection
cannot now be so ascertained as to perpetuate them in this edition
of his works." Boswell refers to Fielding as possessing a "share"
in the paper. A manuscript copy of some of the Minutes of meetings
of the <em>Champion</em> partners, written out in an
eighteenth-century handwriting, and now in the possession of the
present writer, confirms Boswell's note, in as far as an entry
therein records that "Henry Fielding Esq. did originally possess
Two Sixteenth Shares of the Champion as a Writer in the said
paper." One of the lists of the partners of the <em>Champion</em>
which occur in the same manuscript, is headed by the name of "Mr
Fielding." Finally, a contemporary satirical print shows Fielding
with his "length of nose and chin" and his tall figure, acting as
standard-bearer of the <em>Champion</em>; the paper being
represented in its political capacity of a leading Opposition
organ. There is, moreover, the internal evidence of style and
sentiment. Thus the matter rests; and although it is exceedingly
tempting to use the <em>Champion</em> for inferences as to the
manner in which Fielding approached his new craft of journalism,
and as to his attitude on the many subjects, theological, social,
political and personal, handled in these essays, the evidence seems
hardly sufficient to warrant such deductions. It does, however,
seem clear, taking as evidence the shilling pamphlet already <a
name="fnref6-9">mentioned</a>, <a class="footnote" href=
"#fn6-9">9</a> that Harry Fielding, the intrepid and audacious Mr
Pasquin of 1736-7 reappeared, laying about him with his ever ready
cudgel now raised to the dignity of a miraculous Hercules club, as
the <em>Champion</em> of 1739-41. To all lovers of good cudgelling,
whether laid on the shoulders of the incorrigible old cynic Sir
Robert, or on those of the egregious Colley Cibber, or falling on
the follies and abuses of the day, the "Pasquinades and
Vinegarades" of <em>Captain Hercules Vinegar</em>, and his "doughty
Squire Ralph," may be commended. And no fault can be found with the
<em>Captain's</em> declaration, when establishing a Court of
Judicature for the trial and punishment of sundry offenders in his
pages, that "whatever is wicked, hateful, absurd, or ridiculous,
must be exposed and punished, before this Nation is brought to that
Height of Purity and good Manners to which I wish to see it <a
name="fnref6-10">exalted</a>." <a class="footnote" href=
"#fn6-10">10</a></p>

<p>One personal sketch of Fielding himself deserves quotation,
whether drawn by his own hand or that of another. The
<em>Champion</em> for May 24, 1740, contains a vision of the
Infernal Regions, where Charon, the ghostly boatman, is busy
ferrying souls across the River Styx. The ferryman bids his
attendant Mercury see that all his passengers embark carrying
nothing with them; and the narrator describes how, after various
Shades had qualified for their passage, "A tall Man came next, who
stripp'd off an old Grey Coat with great Readiness, but as he was
stepping into the Boat, <em>Mercury</em> demanded half his Chin,
which he utterly refused to comply with, insisting on it that it
was all his own." Fielding's length of chin and nose was well
known; and not less familiar, doubtless, was the 'old Grey Coat,'
among the purlieus of the Temple. The beginning of the year 1740,
when the lusty <em>Champion</em> and his cudgel were well
established, and <em>Captain Hercules'</em> private legal studies
were drawing to a close, was marked by a fresh outburst of the old
feud with Colley Cibber. Cibber, already notorious as actor,
dramatist, manager, the Poet Laureat of "preposterous Odes," and
the 'poetical Tailor' who would even cut down Shakespeare himself,
now appeared in the character of historian and biographer,
publishing early in 1740 the famous <em>Apology for the Life of Mr
Colley Cibber, Comedian, and late Patentee of the Theatre Royal.
With an Historical View of the Stage during his Own Time.</em></p>

<p>Cibber, soon to be scornfully chosen by Pope as dunce-hero of
the <em>Dunciad</em>, had, for the past six years, been pilloried
by Fielding; and, not unmindful of these onslaughts, he inserted in
his new work a virulent attack on the late manager of the New
Theatre in the Haymarket. The tenor of <em>Pasquin</em> was here
grossly misrepresented. Fielding was described as being, at the
time of entering on his management, "a Broken Wit"; he was accused
of using the basest dramatic means of profit, since "he was in
haste to get money"; and the final insult was added by Cibber's
stroke of referring to his enemy anonymously, as one whom "I do not
chuse to name."</p>

<p>Looking back across two centuries on to the supreme figures of
Pope and Fielding, it is matter for some wonder that these giants
of the intellect should have greatly troubled to annihilate a
Colley Cibber. A finer villain, it seems to us, might have been
chosen by Pope for the six hundred lines of his <em>Dunciad</em> a
worthier target might have drawn the arrows of Fielding's
<em>Champion</em>. But Cibber possessed at least the art of
arousing notable enmities; and the four slashing papers in which
the <em><a name="fnref6-11">Champion</a></em> <a class="footnote"
href="#fn6-11">11</a> promptly parried the scurrilities of the
<em>Apology</em> still make pretty reading for those who are
curious in the annals of literary warfare. It is noteworthy that
these <em>Champion</em> retorts are honourably free from the
personalities of an age incredibly gross in the use of personal
invective. Fielding's journal, even under the stinging provocation
of the insults of the <em>Apology</em>, was still true to the
standard set in the <em>Prologue</em> of his first boyish play</p>

<p class="quoted">'No private character these scenes expose.'</p>

<p>It is Cibber's ignorance of grammar, his murder of the English
tongue, his inflated literary conceit, rather than his 'private
character' that are here exposed.</p>

<p>Some time during the latter half of 1740 the whole feud between
Cibber, Pope, Fielding and Ralph was reprinted in the shilling
pamphlet, already referred to, entitled <em>The Tryal of Colley
Cibber</em>. The collection concludes as follows:</p>

<p class="quoted">"ADVERTISEMENT<br>
"If the Ingenious <em>Henry Fielding</em> Esq.; (Son of the Hon.
Lieut. General <em>Fielding</em>, who upon his Return from his
Travels entered Himself of the <em>Temple</em> in order to study
the Law, and married one of the pretty Miss <em>Cradocks</em> of
<em>Salisbury</em>) will <em>own</em> himself the AUTHOR of 18
strange Things called Tragical <em>Comedies</em> and Comical
<em>Tragedies</em>, lately advertised by <em>J. Watts</em>, of
<em>Wild-Court</em>, Printer, he shall be <em>mentioned</em> in
Capitals in the <em>Third</em> edition of Mr CIBBER'S
<em>Life</em>, and likewise be placed <em>among</em> the <em>Poetae
minores Dramatici</em> of the Present Age; then will both his
<em>Name and Writings be remembered on Record</em> in the immortal
<em>Poetical Register</em> written by Mr Giles Jacob."</p>

<p>The whole production affords a lively example of the
full-blooded pamphleteering of 1740; and throws valuable light on
Fielding's repute as the <em>Champion</em>.</p>

<p class="centered"><a name="i369"><img src="images/369.jpg" alt=
"Theatre Ticket for Fielding's 'Mock Doctor'" width="449" height=
"500"></a></p>

<p>As regards Ralph's collaboration with Fielding at this period (a
collaboration further affirmed by Dr Nathan Drake's assertion,
written in 1809, that James Ralph was Fielding's chief coadjutor in
that paper) it may be recalled that ten years previously this not
very reputable American had provided a prologue for Fielding's
early play, the <em>Temple Beau</em>; and that he appears again as
Fielding's partner in the management of the Little Theatre in the
Haymarket. Gradually relinquishing his theatrical ambitions, Ralph
appears to have turned his talents to political journalism, and
according to Tom Davies was becoming formidable as a party writer
for the Opposition in these last years of Walpole's administration.
Boswell tells us that Ralph ultimately succeeded Fielding in his
share of the <em><a name="fnref6-12">Champion</a></em>; <a class=
"footnote" href="#fn6-12">12</a> but we have no definite knowledge
of what precise part was taken by him in the earlier numbers. No
continued trace occurs of his collaboration with Fielding; and
indeed it is difficult to conceive any permanent alliance between
Fielding's manly, independent, and generous nature, and the sordid
and selfish character, and mediocre talents of James Ralph.</p>

<h2><a name="chapter7">CHAPTER VII</a><br>
<br>
"COUNSELLOR FIELDING"</h2>

<p class="quoted">"Wit is generally observed to love to reside in
empty pockets."<br>
 &nbsp;&nbsp;<em>Joseph Andrews</em>.</p>

<p>The last retort on Colley Cibber had scarcely been launched from
the columns of the <em>Champion</em>, when that intrepid 'Censor of
Great Britain' and indefatigable law student, <em>Captain Hercules
Vinegar</em>, attained the full dignities of a barrister of the
Middle Temple. On June 20, 1740, Fielding was called to the Bar;
and on the same day the Benchers of his Inn assigned to him
chambers at No. 4 Pump Court, "up three pair of stairs." This
assignment, according to the wording of the Temple records, was
"for the term of his natural life." These chambers may still be
seen, with their low ceilings and panelled walls, very much to all
appearance as when tenanted by Harry Fielding. The windows of the
sitting-room and bedroom look out on to the beautiful old buildings
of Brick Court, and from the head of the staircase one looks across
to the stately gilded sundial of Pump Court, old even in Fielding's
day, with its warning motto:</p>

<p class="quoted">"Shadows we are and like shadows depart."</p>

<p>Here, in these lofty chambers, up their "three pair" of worn and
narrow stairs, Fielding donned his barrister's gown, and waited for
briefs; and, possessing as he did an imagination "fond of seizing
every gay prospect," and natural spirits that gave him, as his
cousin Lady Mary tells us, cheerfulness in a garret, this summer of
1740 must have been full of sanguine hopes. He was now
thirty-three, and his splendid physique had not yet become
shattered by gout. He had gained, Murphy observes, no
inconsiderable reputation by the <em>Champion</em>; his position as
a brilliant political playwright had been long ago assured by
<em>Pasquin</em>; the party to whose patriotic interests he had
devoted so much energy and wit was now rapidly approaching power;
and two years of eager application had equipped him with 'no
incompetent share of learning' for a profession in which, we are
told, he aspired to eminence. The swift disappointment of these
brave hopes, the fast coming years of sickness, distress, and grief
endow the old chambers with something of tragedy; but in June,
1740, the shadows were still but a sententious word on the
dial.</p>

<p class="centered"><a name="i351"><img src="images/351.jpg" alt=
"The Temple--1738" width="600" height="500"></a></p>

<p>There is practically no surviving record of Fielding's activity
as a barrister. From Murphy we learn that his pursuit of the law
was hampered by want of means; and that, moreover, even his
indomitable energies were soon often forced to yield to disabling
attacks of illness. So long as his health permitted him he
"attended with punctual assiduity" on the Western circuit, and in
term time at Westminster Hall. But gout rapidly "began to make such
assaults upon him as rendered it impossible for him to be as
constant at the bar as the laboriousness of his profession
required," and he could only follow the law in intervals of health.
Under such "severities of pain and want" he yet made efforts for
success; and the tribute rendered by his first biographer to the
courage of those efforts deserves quotation in full: "It will serve
to give us an idea of the great force of his mind, if we consider
him pursuing so arduous a study under the exigencies of family
distress, with a wife and children, whom he tenderly loved, looking
up to him for subsistence, with a body lacerated by the acutest
pains, and with a mind distracted by a thousand avocations and
obliged for immediate supply to produce almost extempore a farce, a
pamphlet, or a newspaper." Murphy's careless pen seems here to
confuse the student years with those of assiduous effort at the
Bar; and the extempore farces are, judging by the dates of
Fielding's collected plays, no more than a rhetorical flourish: but
there seems no reason to doubt the essential truth of this picture
of the vigorous struggles of the sanguine, witty, and not unlearned
barrister, ambitious of distinction, and always sensitively anxious
as to the maintenance of his wife and children. We may see him
attending the Western circuit in March and again in August, riding
from Winchester to Salisbury, thence to Dorchester and Exeter, and
on to Launceston, Taunton, Bodmin, Wells or Bristol as the case
might be; constant in his appearance at Westminster; and
supplementing his briefs by political pamphlets written in the
service of an Opposition supported by the intellect and integrity
of the day.</p>

<p>It is inexplicable that no records, in the letters or diaries of
his brother lawyers, should have come down to us of circuits,
enlivened by the wit of Harry Fielding; that practically all traces
of his professional work should be lost; and that concerning the
many friendships which he is recorded to have made at the Bar we
should know practically nothing beyond his own cordial
acknowledgment of the lawyers' response, three years after his
call, to the subscription for the <em>Miscellanies</em>. In the
preface to those volumes he writes: "I cannot however forbear
mentioning my sense of the Friendship shown me by a Profession of
which I am a late and unworthy Member, and from whose Assistance I
derive more than half the Names which appear to this subscription."
All that we have to add to this, is the unconscious humour of
Murphy's observation that the friendships Fielding met with "in the
course of his studies, and indeed through the remainder of his life
from the gentlemen of the legal profession in general, and
particularly from some who have since risen to be the first
ornaments of the law, will ever do honour to his memory." Had the
names of these worthy 'ornaments' been preserved, posterity could
now give them due recognition as having been honoured by the
friendship of Henry <a name="fnref7-1">Fielding</a>.<a class=
"footnote" href="#fn7-1">1</a></p>

<p>Fielding in his habit, as he lived, is for ever eluding us. His
tall figure vanishes behind the prolific playwright, the exuberant
politician, the truculent journalist, the indefatigable magistrate,
the great creative genius. But at no point does the wittiest man of
his day, and a lawyer of some repute--'Mr Fielding is allowed to
have acquired a respectable share of jurisprudence'--escape us so
completely as during these years of 'punctual assiduity' at the
Bar. His very domicile is unknown, after the surrender of those
pleasant chambers in Pump Court, on November 28 1740.</p>

<p class="centered"><a name="i352"><img src="images/352.jpg" alt=
"Henry Fielding holding the Banner of the 'Champion' newspaper"
width="719" height="500"></a></p>

<p>The political activities of "Counsellor Fielding" stand out far
more clearly than do the legal labours of these years of struggle
at the Bar. The year of his call, 1740, was one of constant
embarrassment for Sir Robert Walpole, whose long enjoyment of
single power was now at last drawing to a miserable close. The
conduct of the Spanish War was arraigned, and suggestions were made
that the Government were in secret alliance with the enemy. When
the news came, in March, that Walpole's parliamentary opponent, the
bluff Admiral Vernon, had captured Porto Bello from Spain, with six
ships only, the public rejoicing and votes of congratulation were
so many attacks on the peace-at-any-price Minister. A powerful
fleet, designed against Spain, lay inactive in Torbay the greater
part of the summer, through (alleged) contrary winds. And when
Parliament met in November 1740, an onslaught by the Duke of Argyll
in the Lords paved the way for the celebrated attack on Sir Robert
in the Commons, known as "The Motion" of February 13, 1741. A fine
political cartoon published in the following month, and here
reproduced, in which Walpole appears as mocking at the death and
burial of this same "Motion" of censure (which the House had
rejected), places Fielding in the forefront of the Opposition
procession. The dead "Motion" is being carried to the "Opposition"
family vault, already occupied by Jack Cade and other "reformers";
and the bier is preceded by five standard-bearers, sadly carrying
the insignia of the party's papers. Among these, and second only to
the famous <em>Craftsman</em>, comes Fielding's tall figure,
bearing aloft a standard inscribed <em>The Champion</em>, and
emblazoned with that terrible club of <em>Captain Hercules
Vinegar</em>, which, we may recall, was always ready to "fall on
any knave in company." Behind the bier hobbles, clearly, the old
Duchess of Marlborough; and Walpole's fat figure stands in the
foreground, laughing uproariously at this "Funeral of Faction." In
the doggerel verses beneath this cartoon, it is very plainly hinted
that "old Sarah," and the Opposition, were in league with the
Stewarts. In this historic debate, for which members secured seats
at six o'clock in the morning, the vote of censure on "the <em>one
person</em>" arraigned was defeated, Sir Robert once again securing
a majority, and so "the Motion" as the cartoonist depicts, died "of
a Disappointment." Another cartoon commemorating this ill-fated
effort is instructive as showing, again in the foreground of the
fight, a figure wearing a barrister's wig, gown, and bands, and
inscribed with the words <em>Pasquin</em> and <em>The
Champion</em>. The Opposition Leader, Pulteney, leads both the
<em>Pasquin</em> figure, and another representing the paper
<em>Common Sense</em>, literally by the nose with the one hand,
while with the other he neatly catches, on his drawn sword,
Walpole's organ the <em>Gazetteer</em>. In doggerel verses attached
to the print Fielding is complimented with the following entire
verse to himself:--</p>

<p class="quoted">"Then the Champion of the Age,<br>
 Being Witty, wise, and Sage,<br>
 Comes with Libells on the Stage."</p>

<p>This <em>Pasquin</em> figure has none of the personal
characteristics of Fielding, neither his "length of nose" nor his
stately stature, so well suggested in the former print; but, lay
figure though it be, it symbolises no less clearly the prominent
part he played in these final political struggles of 1741. Also the
lawyer's dress with which Fielding is here signified is noteworthy;
and similar acknowledgment of his new dignities may be seen in the
reference (in a copy of Walpole's <em>Gazetteer</em> for 1740) to
the attacks levelled on Sir Robert by "Captain
Vinegar--<em>i.e.</em> Counsellor F---d--g."</p>

<p>These popular indications of Fielding's activity in the fighting
ranks of the Opposition, during this last year of Walpole's
domination, are supplemented by the evidence of his own pen. As
early as January 1741, and while the grand Parliamentary attack of
the 13th of February was but brewing, he published an eighteenpenny
pamphlet, in verse, satirising Sir Robert's lukewarm conduct of the
war with Spain. To the title of <em>The Vernoniad</em>, there was
added a lengthy mock-title in Greek, the whole being presented as a
lost fragment by Homer, describing, in epic style, the mission of
one "Mammon" sent by Satan to baffle the fleets of a nation engaged
in war with <em>Iberia</em>. "Mammon" is a perfectly obvious
satirical sketch of Walpole himself, in the execution of which the
hand that had drawn the corrupt fiddler "Mr Quidam" and the tipsy
"Mr Pillage" for the Haymarket stage, has in no wise lost its
cunning. "Mammon" (Walpole was reputed to have amassed much wealth)
hides his palace walls by heaps of "ill-got Pictures." The pictures
collected at Houghton, the Minister's pretentious Norfolk seat,
were famous; and the notes to the "Text" are careful to depict, in
illustration, "some rich Man without the least Taste having
purchased a Picture at an immense Price, lifting up his eyes to it
with Wonder and Astonishment, without being able to discover
wherein its true Merit lies." "Mammon" declares virtue to be but a
name, and his wonted eloquence is bribery. Sir Robert asserted that
every man has his price. "Mammon" preserves dulness and ignorance,
"while Wit and Learning starve." Walpole's illiterate tastes were
notorious. At the close of the poem, "Mammon" accomplishes the
behest of his master, Satan, by bribing contrary winds to drive
back the English ships (a satire on Walpole's conduct of the war);
and he finally returns to hell, and "in his Palace keeps a
<em>three Weeks'</em> Feast." Sir Robert it may be noted usually
entertained for three weeks, in the spring, at Houghton. The whole
is a slashing example of the robust eighteenth-century political
warfare, polished by constant classical allusions and quotations;
and doubtless it was read with delight in the coffee houses of the
Town in that critical winter of 1740-1741. Two characteristic
allusions must not be omitted. Even in the heat of party hard
hitting Fielding finds time for a thrust at Colley Cibber, whose
prose it seems was in several places by no means to be comprehended
till "explained by the <em>Herculean</em> Labours of Captain
<em>Vinegar</em>" And there is a pleasant reference to "my friend
Hogarth the exactest Copier of Nature."</p>

<p>In this first month of 1741, Fielding published yet another
poetical pamphlet for his party, but of a less truculent energy.
<em>True Greatness</em> is a poem inscribed to a recruit in the
Opposition ranks, the celebrated George Bubb Dodington; and when
the eulogiums offered by the poet to his political leaders, Argyll,
Carteret, Chesterfield, and Lyttelton, to all of whom are ascribed
that "True Greatness" which "lives but in the Noble Mind," are
completed by a description of Dodington as irradiating a blaze of
virtues, this particular pamphlet becomes somewhat rueful reading.
For Dodington was, if report speaks true, a pliant politician as
well as an ineffable coxcomb, although it must be admitted that he
won eulogies and compliments alike from the perfect integrity of
Lyttelton, and the honourable pen of James Thomson. Even Fielding's
glowing lines do not outstrip Thomson's panegyric in <em>The
Seasons</em>.</p>

<p>A more enduring interest however than the merits or demerits of
a Dodington, lies in this shilling pamphlet. In it is clearly
foreshadowed Fielding's great ironic outburst on false greatness,
given to the world a few years later in the form of the history of
that Napoleon in villany, the "great" Mr Jonathan Wild. In the
medium of stiff couplets (verse being "a branch of Writing" which
Fielding admits "I very little pretend to") the subject-matter of
the magnificent irony of <em>Jonathan Wild</em> is already
sketched. Here the spurious "greatness" of inhuman conquerors, of
droning pedants, of paltry beaus, of hermits proud of their
humility, is mercilessly laid bare; and something is disclosed of
the "piercing discernment" of that genius which, Murphy tell us,
"saw the latent sources of human actions."</p>

<p>We have seen indications in Murphy's careless pages that these
few years of Fielding's assiduous efforts at the Bar were years
burdened by "severities of want and pain." It is difficult not to
admit a reference to some such personal experiences in a passage in
this same poem. The lines in question describe the Poet going
hungry and thirsty</p>

<p class="quoted">"As down Cheapside he meditates the Song"....</p>

<p>a "great tatter'd Bard," treading cautiously through the streets
lest he meet a bailiff, oppressed with "want and with contempt,"
his very liberty to "wholesome Air" taken from him, yet possessing
the greatness of mind that no circumstances can touch, and the
power to bestow a fame that shall outlive the gifts of kings. This
latter claim foreshadows the magnificent apostrophe in <em>Tom
Jones</em> on that unconquerable force of genius, able to confer
immortality both on the poet, and the poet's theme. Was the 'great
tatter'd Bard,' cautiously treading the streets, little esteemed,
and yet the conscious possessor of true greatness (did not the
author of <em>Tom Jones</em> rely with confidence on receiving
honour from generations yet unborn), none other than the tall
figure of Fielding himself? At least we know that soon after this
year he writes of having lately suffered accidents and waded
through distresses, sufficient to move the pity of his readers,
were he "fond enough of Tragedy" to make himself "the Hero of
one."</p>

<p>One of the rare fragments of Fielding's <a name=
"fnref7-2">autograph</a>, <a class="footnote" href="#fn7-2">2</a>
refers both to this pamphlet, and to the <em>Vernoniad</em>:</p>

<p><br>
</p>

<p>"Mr Nourse,</p>

<p>"Please to deliver Mr Chappell 50 of <s>my</s> [<em>sic</em>]
True Greatness and 50 of the Vernoniad.</p>

<p>Y'rs<br>
"Hen. Ffielding.<br>
"<em>April</em> 20 1741."</p>

<p>In June of this year occurred the death of General Edmund
Fielding, briefly noticed in the <em>London Magazine</em> as that
of an officer who "had served in the late Wars against
<em>France</em> with much Bravery and Reputation." The General's
own struggles to support his large family probably prevented his
death affecting the circumstances of his eldest son. In the same
month Fielding appears as attending a "Meeting of the Partners in
the Champion," held at the Feathers Tavern, on June 29. The list of
the partners present at the Feathers is given as <a name=
"fnref7-3">follows</a>:--<a class="footnote" href=
"#fn7-3">3</a></p>

<p class="quoted">Present</p>

<p class="quoted">Mr Fielding<br>
 Mr Nourse<br>
 Mr Hodges<br>
 Mr Chappelle</p>

<p class="quoted">Mr Cogan<br>
 Mr Gilliver<br>
 Mr Chandler</p>

<p>The business recorded was the sale of the "Impressions of the
Champion in two Vollumes, 12'o, No. 1000." The impression was put
up to the Company by auction, and was knocked down to Mr Henry
Chappelle for £110, to be paid to the partners. The majority of the
partners are declared by the Minutes to have confirmed the bargain;
the minority, as appears from the list of signatures, being
strictly that of one, Henry Fielding. After this dissension
Fielding's name ceases to appear at the <em>Champion</em> meetings;
and as he himself states that he left off writing for the paper
from this very month the evidence certainly points to a withdrawal
on his part in June 1741 from both the literary and the business
management of the paper. The edition referred to in the Minutes is
doubtless that advertised in the <em>London Daily Post</em> a few
days before the meeting of the partners, as a publication of the
<em>Champion</em> "in two neat Pocket <a name=
"fnref7-4">Volumes</a>." <a class="footnote" href=
"#fn7-4">4</a></p>

<p class="centered"><a name="i353"><img src="images/353.jpg" alt=
"Cartoon showing Fielding, in Wig and Gown, as a supporter of the Opposition"
 width="719" height="500"></a></p>

<p>Meanwhile the whole force of the Opposition was thrown into the
battle of a General Election; and it is interesting to note that
Pitt stood for the seat for Fielding's boyish home, and the home of
his wife, that of Old Sarum. The elections went largely against
Walpole, and by the end of June defeat was prophesied for a
Minister who would only be supported by a majority of sixteen.</p>

<p>It is somewhat inexplicable that at this, the very moment of the
approaching victory of his party Fielding appears to have withdrawn
from all journalistic work. "I take this Opportunity to declare in
the most solemn Manner," he writes, in after years, "I have long
since (as long as from <em>June</em> 1741) desisted from writing
one Syllable in the <em>Champion</em>, or any other public Paper."
And yet more unexpected is the fact that six months later, during
the last weeks of Walpole's failing power, a rumour should be
abroad that Fielding was assisting his old enemy. In one of his
rare references to his private life, that in the Preface to the
<em>Miscellanies</em>, he seeks to clear himself from unjust
censures "as well on account of what I have not writ, as for what I
have"; and, as an instance of such baseless aspersions, he relates
that, in this winter of 1741, "I received a letter from a Friend,
desiring me to vindicate myself from two very opposite Reflections,
which two opposite Parties thought fit to cast on me, <em>viz</em>.
the one of writing in the <em>Champion</em> (tho' I had not then
writ in it for upwards of half a year) the other, of writing in the
Gazetteer, in which I never had the honour of inserting a single
Word." What can have occurred, in the bewildering turmoil of that
eighteenth-century party strife, that the author of
<em>Pasquin</em>, the possessor of "Captain Vinegar's" Herculean
Club, should have to vindicate himself from a charge of writing in
the columns of Walpole's <em>Gazetteer</em>. During these last
months of Sir Robert's power his Cabinet was much divided, and two
of his Ministers were in active revolt; possibly rumour assigned
the services of the witty pen of Counsellor Fielding to these
Opposition Ministerialists. But that some change did indeed take
place in Fielding's political activities, in these last six months
of 1741 is obvious from his withdrawal from writing in any "Public"
paper; and from passages in the last political pamphlet known to
have come from his pen. This pamphlet, entitled <em>The Opposition.
A Vision</em>, was published in the winter of 1741, a winter of
severe illness, and of "other circumstances" which, as he tells us,
"served as very proper Decorations" to the sickbeds of himself, his
wife, and child. It is a lively attack on the divided councils and
leaders of the Opposition, thrown into the form of a dream, caused
by the author's falling asleep over "a large quarto Book intituled
'An apology for the Life of Mr Colley Gibber, Comedian.'" In his
dream Fielding meets the Opposition, in the form of a waggon, drawn
by very ill-matched asses, the several drivers of which have lost
their way. The luggage includes the Motion for 1741, and a trunk
containing the <em>Champion</em> newspaper. One passenger protests
that he has been hugely spattered by the "Dirt" of the "last
Motion," and that he will get out, rather than drive through more
dirt. A gentleman of "a meagre aspect" (is he the lean Lyttelton?)
leaves the waggon; and another observes that the asses "appear to
me to be the worst fed Asses I ever beheld ... that long sided Ass
they call <em>Vinegar</em>, which the Drivers call upon so often to
<em>gee up</em>, and <em>pull lustily</em>, I never saw an Ass with
a worse Mane, or a more shagged Coat; and that grave Ass yoked to
him, which they name <em>Ralph</em>, and who pulls and brays like
the Devil, Sir, he does not seem to have eat since the hard <a
name="fnref7-5">Frost</a>. <a class="footnote" href="#fn7-5">5</a>
Surely, considering the wretched Work they are employed in, they
deserve better Meat."</p>

<p>The longsided ass, Vinegar, with the worst of manes and the most
shagged coat, short even of provender, recalls the picture, drawn
twelve months previously, of the great hungry tatter'd Bard; and
the inference seems fair enough that for Fielding politics were no
lucrative trade. A more creditable inference, in those days of
universal corruption, it may be added, would be hard to find. The
honour of a successful party writer who yet remained poor in the
year 1741, must have been kept scrupulously clean. The
<em>Vision</em> proceeds to show the waggon, with two new sets of
asses from Cornwall and Scotland (the elections had gone heavily
against Walpole in both these districts), suddenly turning aside
from the "Great Country Road" (the Opposition was known as the
Country Party); and the protesting passengers are told that the end
of their journey is "St James." Some of the asses, flinching, are
"well whipt"; but the waggon leaves the dreamer and many of its
followers far behind. Suddenly a Fat Gentleman's coach stops the
way. The drivers threaten to drive over the coach, when one of the
asses protests that the waggon is leaving the service of the
country, and going aside on its own ends, and that "the Honesty of
even an Ass would start" at being used for some purposes. The
waggon is all in revolt and confusion, when the Fat Gentleman, who
appeared to have "one of the pleasantest and best natured
Countenances I ever beheld," at last had the asses unharness'd, and
turned into a delicious meadow, where they fell to feeding, as
after "long Abstinence." Finally, the pleasant-faced fat
gentleman's coach proceeds on the way from which the waggon had
deviated, carrying with it some of the former drivers of the same;
the mob burn the derelict obstructing vehicle; and their noise, and
the stink and smoke of the conflagration wake the dreamer.</p>

<p>In this last word of Fielding's active political career (for his
later anti-Jacobite papers are concerned rather with Constitutional
and Protestant, than with party strife), a retirement from
political collar-work is certainly signified. His reasons for such
a step escape us in the mist of those confused and heated
conflicts. His detestation of Walpole's characteristic methods may
very well have roused his ever ready fighting instincts, whereas,
once Walpole's fall was practically assured the weak forces of the
Opposition (William Pitt being yet many years from power) could
have availed but little to enlist his penetrating intellect. And he
may by now have found that politics afforded, in those days, but
scanty support to an honourable pen.</p>

<p>But supposition, in lack of further evidence, is fruitless; all
that we can clearly perceive is that this winter of sickness and
distress marks a final severance from party politics. The hungry
'hackney writer' of the lean sides and shagged coat, if not,
indeed, turned to graze in the fat meadow of his dream, was at last
freed from an occupation that could but shackle the genius now
ready to break forth in the publication of <em>Joseph
Andrews</em>.</p>

<h2><a name="chapter8">CHAPTER VIII</a><br>
<br>
JOSEPH ANDREWS</h2>

<p class="quoted">"This kind of writing I do not remember to have
seen hitherto attempted in our language." &nbsp;&nbsp;Preface to
<em>Joseph Andrews</em>.</p>

<p>On the 2nd of February 1742 Sir Robert Walpole, the 'Colossos'
of popular broadsides, under whose feet England had lain for
exactly thirty years, received his final defeat; and the intrepid
wit, who for the past eight years had heartily lashed the tyrannies
and corruptions of that 'Great Man,' enjoyed at last the
satisfaction of witnessing the downfall of the <em>Mr Quiddam</em>
and <em>Mr Pillage</em> of his plays, of the <em>Plunderer</em> and
<em>Mammon</em> of his pamphlets, of the <em>Brass</em> on whom
many a stinging blow had fallen in the columns of his
<em>Champion</em>.</p>

<p>With the retirement of Walpole, Fielding's vigorous figure
vanishes from active political service. No more caustic Greek
epics, translated from the original "by Homer," no more boisterous
interludes with three-bottle Prime Ministers appearing in the part
of principal boy, come from his pen. But scarcely is the ink dry on
the page of his last known political pamphlet, when Fielding
reappears, in this Spring of 1742, not as the ephemeral politician,
but as the triumphant discoverer of a new continent for English
literature; as the leader of a revolution in imaginative writing
which has outlived the Ministries and parties, the reforms, the
broils, and warfares of two centuries. For, to-day, the fierce old
contests of Whig and Tory, the far-off horrors of
eighteenth-century gibbets, jails, and streets, the succession of
this and that Minister, the French Wars and Pragmatic Sanctions of
1740 are all dead as Queen Anne. But the novel based on character,
on human life, in a word on 'the vast authentic Book of Nature' is
a living power; and it was by the publication, in February 1742, of
<em>The Adventures of Mr Joseph Andrews and his Friend Mr Abraham
Adams</em>, that Fielding reveals himself as the father of the
English novel. Henceforth we can almost forget the hard-hitting
political <em>Champion</em>; we may quite forget the facile
'hackney writer' of popular farces, and the impetuous studies of
the would-be barrister. With the appearance of these two small
volumes Henry Fielding reaches the full stature of his genius as
the first, and perhaps the greatest, of English novelists.</p>

<p>It is difficult, at the present day, to realise the greatness of
his achievement. Fielding found, posturing as heroines of romance,
the <em>Clelias, Cleopatras, Astraeas</em>; he left the living
women, Fanny Andrews, Sophia Western, Amelia Booth. "Amelia,"
writes his great follower Thackeray, "... the most charming
character in English fiction,--Fiction! Why fiction? Why not
history? I know Amelia just as well as Lady Mary Wortley Montagu."
Again, Fielding found a world of polite letters, turning a stiff
back on all "low" naturalness of life. He taught that world (as his
friend Lillo had already essayed to do in his tragedy of a
<em>London Merchant</em>) that the life of a humble footman, of a
poor parson in a torn cassock, of the poverty-hunted wife of an
impoverished army-captain, of a country lad without known
parentage, interest or fortune, may make finer reading than all the
Court romances ever written; and, moreover, that "the highest life
is much the dullest, and affords very little humour or
entertainment." And, having rediscovered this world of natural and
simple human nature, his genius proceeded to the creation of
nothing less than an entirely new form of English literary
expression, the medium of the novel.</p>

<p>The preface to <em>Joseph Andrews</em> shows that Fielding was
perfectly conscious of the greatness of his adventure. Such a
species of writing, he says, "I do not remember to have seen
hitherto attempted in our language." We can but wonder at, and
admire, the superb energy and confidence which could thus embark on
the conscious production of this new thing, amid want, pain, and
distress. And wonder and admiration increase tenfold on the further
discovery that this fresh creation in literature, fashioned in
circumstances so depressing, is overflowing with an exuberance of
healthy life and enjoyment. Having entered on his fair inheritance
of this new world of human nature, Fielding pourtrays it from the
standpoint of his own maxim, that life "everywhere furnishes an
accurate observer with the ridiculous." So, into this, his
newly-cut channel for imaginative expression (to use Mr Gosse's
happy phrase) he poured the strength of a genius naturally inclined
to that "exquisite mirth and laughter," which as he declared in his
preface to these volumes, "are probably more wholesome physic for
the mind and conduce better to purge away spleen, melancholy, and
ill affections than is generally imagined." No book ever more
thoroughly carried out this wholesome doctrine. The laughter in
<em>Joseph Andrews</em> is as whole-hearted, if not as noisy, the
practical jokes are as broad, as those of a healthy school-boy; and
the pages ring with a spirit and gusto recalling Lady Mary's phrase
concerning her cousin "that no man enjoyed life more than he did."
To quote again from Mr Gosse: "A good deal in this book may offend
the fine, and not merely the superfine. But the vitality and
elastic vigour of the whole carry us over every difficulty... and
we pause at the close of the novel to reflect on the amazing
freshness of the talent which could thus make a set of West country
scenes, in that despised thing, a novel, blaze with light like a
comedy of Shakespeare."</p>

<p class="centered"><a name="i354"><img src="images/354.jpg" alt=
"Henry Fielding reading at the Bedford Arms" width="295" height=
"500"></a></p>

<p>So original in creation, so humane, so full of a brave delight
in life, was the power that, mastering every gloomy obstacle of
circumstance, broke into the stilted literary world of 1742; and
Murphy's Irish rhetoric is not too warm when he talks of this
sunrise of Fielding's greatness "when his genius broke forth at
once, with an effulgence superior to all the rays of light it had
before emitted, like the sun in his morning glory."</p>

<p>Any detailed comment on the literary qualities of the genius
which thus disclosed itself would exceed the limits of this memoir;
and indeed such comment is, now, a thrice-told tale. To Sir Walter
Scott, Fielding is the "father of the English novel"; to Byron,
"the prose Homer of human nature." The magnificent tribute of
Gibbon still remains a towering monument, whatever experts may tell
us concerning the Hapsburg genealogy. "Our immortal Fielding," he
wrote, "was of the younger branch of the Earls of Denbigh, who drew
their origin from the Counts of Hapsburg. The successors of Charles
V. may disdain their brethren of England; but the romance of
<em>Tom Jones</em>, that exquisite picture of human manners, will
outlive the palace of the Escurial and the Imperial Eagle of
Austria." Smollett affirmed that his predecessor painted the
characters, and ridiculed the follies, of life with equal strength,
humour and propriety. The supreme autocrat of the eighteenth
century, Dr Johnson himself, though always somewhat hostile to
Fielding, read <em>Amelia</em> through without stopping, and
pronounced her to be 'the most pleasing heroine of all the
romances.' "What a poet is here," cries Thackeray, "watching,
meditating, brooding, creating! What multitudes of truths has that
man left behind him: what generations he has taught to laugh wisely
and fairly." Finally we may turn neither to novelist nor historian,
but to the metaphysical philosopher, "How charming! How wholesome
is Fielding!" says Coleridge, "to take him up after Richardson is
like emerging from a sick-room, heated by stoves, into an open lawn
on a breezy day in May." Such are some estimates of the quality of
Fielding's genius, given by men not incompetent to appraise him. To
analyse that genius is, as has been said, beyond the scope of these
pages. But Fielding's first novel is not only a revelation of
genius. It frankly reveals much of the man behind the pen; and in
its pages, and in those of the still greater novels yet to come, we
may learn more of the true Fielding than from all the fatuities and
surmises of his early biographers.</p>

<p>Thus in <em>Joseph Andrews</em> for the first time we come
really close to the splendid and healthy energy, the detachment,
the relentless scorn, the warmth of feeling, that characterised
Henry Fielding under all circumstances and at all times of his
life. This book, as we have seen, was written under every outward
disadvantage, and yet its pages ring with vigour and laughter. Here
is the same militant energy that had nerved Fielding to fight the
domination of a corrupt (and generally corrupting) Minister for
eight lean years; and which in later life flung itself into a
chivalrous conflict with current social crime and misery. Here is a
detachment hardly less than that which fills the pages of the last
<em>Journal of a Voyage to Lisbon</em> with a courage, a gaiety, a
serenity that no suffering and hardship, and not even the near
approach of death itself, could disturb. Here, again, Fielding
consciously avows a moral purpose in his art; the merciless scorn
of his insight in depicting a vicious man or woman is actuated, he
expressly declares, by a motive other than that of 'art for art's
sake.' And as this motive is scarce perceptible in the lifelike
reality of the figures whom we see breathing in actual flesh and
blood in his pages, and yet is of the first importance for
understanding the character of their creator, the great novelist's
confession of this portion of his literary faith may be quoted in
full. The passage occurs in the preface to Book iii. of <em>Joseph
Andrews</em>. Fielding is afraid, he explains, that his figures may
be taken for particular portraits, whereas it is the type and not
the individual that concerns him. "I declare here," he solemnly
affirms, "once for all, I describe not Men, but Manners; not an
Individual, but a Species." And he proceeds to make example of the
lawyer in the stage coach as not indeed confined "to one
Profession, one Religion, or one Country; but when the first mean
selfish Creature appeared on the human Stage, who made Self the
Centre of the whole Creation; would give himself no Pain, incur no
Damage, advance no Money to assist, or preserve his
Fellow-Creatures; then was our Lawyer born; and while such a Person
as I have described, exists on Earth, so long shall he remain upon
it." Not therefore "to mimick some little obscure Fellow" does this
lawyer appear on Fielding's pages, but "for much more general and
noble Purposes; not to expose one pitiful Wretch, to the small and
contemptible Circle of his Acquaintance; but to hold the Glass to
thousands in their Closets that they may contemplate their
Deformity, and endeavour to reduce it."</p>

<p>Yet another characteristic of Fielding's personality appears in
the conscious control exercised over all the humorous and satiric
zest of <em>Joseph Andrews</em>. Here is no unseemly riot of
ridicule. The ridiculous he declares in his philosophic preface is
the subject-matter of his pages; but he will suffer no imputation
of ridiculing vice or calamity. "Surely," he cries, "he hath a very
ill-framed Mind, who can look on Ugliness, Infirmity, or Poverty,
as ridiculous in themselves"; and he formally declares that such
vices as appear in this work "are never set forth as the objects of
Ridicule but Detestation." What then were the limits which Fielding
imposed on himself in treating this, his declared subject matter of
the ridiculous? Hypocrisy and vanity, he says, appearing in the
form of affectation; "Great Vices are the proper Object of our
Detestation, smaller Faults of our Pity: but Affectation appears to
me the only true Source of the Ridiculous." Such is Fielding's
sensitive claim for the decent limits of ridicule; and such the
consciously avowed subject of his work. But the force of his
genius, the depth of his insight, the warmth of his detestations
and affections, soon carried him far beyond any mere study in the
ridicule of vain and hypocritical affectation. The immortal figure
of Parson Adams, striding through these pages, tells us infinitely
much of the character of his creator, but nothing at all of the
nature of affectation. The "rural innocence of a Joseph Andrews,"
to quote Miss Fielding's happy <a name="fnref8-1">phrase</a> <a
class="footnote" href="#fn8-1">1</a> and of his charming Fanny, are
as natural and fresh as Fielding's own Dorsetshire meadows, but
instruct us not at all in vanity or hypocrisy.</p>

<p>To turn to the individual figures of <em>Joseph Andrews</em>;
what do they tell us of the man who called them into being. First
and foremost, it is Parson Adams who unquestionably dominates the
book. However much the licentious grossness of Lady Booby, the
shameless self-seeking of her waiting-woman, Mrs Slipslop, the
swinish avarice of Parson Trulliber, the calculating cruelty of Mrs
Tow-wouse, to name but some of the vices here exposed, blazon forth
that 'enthusiasm for righteousness' which constantly moved Fielding
to exhibit the devilish in human nature in all its 'native
Deformity,' it is still Adams who remains the central figure of the
great comic epic. Concerning the good parson, appreciation has
stumbled for adequate words, from the tribute of Sir Walter Scott
to that of Mr Austin Dobson. "The worthy parson's learning," wrote
Sir Walter, "his simplicity, his evangelical purity of heart, and
benevolence of disposition, are so admirably mingled with pedantry,
absence of mind, and with the habit of athletic and gymnastic
exercise, ... that he may be safely termed one of the richest
productions of the Muse of Fiction." And to Mr Austin Dobson, this
poor curate, compact as he is of the oddest contradictions, the
most diverting eccentricities, is "assuredly a noble example of
primitive goodness, and practical Christianity." We love Adams, as
Fielding intended that we should, for his single-hearted goodness,
his impulsiveness, his boundless generosity, his muscular courage;
we are never allowed to forget the dignity of his office however
ragged be the cassock that displays it; we admire his learning; we
delight in his oddities. But above all he reflects honour on his
creator by the inflexible integrity of his goodness. A hundred
tricks are played on him by shallow knaves, and the result is but
to convince us of the folly of knavery. His ill-clad and uncouth
figure moves among the vicious and prosperous, and we perceive the
ugliness of vice, and the poverty of wealth. With his nightcap
drawn over his wig, a short grey coat half covering a torn cassock,
the crabstick so formidable to ruffians in his hand, and his
beloved AEschylus in his pocket, Adams smoking his pipe by the inn
fire, or surrounded by his "children" as he called his parishioners
vying "with each other in demonstrations of duty and love," fully
justifies John Forster's comment on Fielding's manly habit of
"discerning what was good and beautiful in the homeliest aspects of
humanity." Before the true dignity of Abraham Adams, whether he be
publicly rebuking the Squire and Pamela for laughing in church, or
emerging unstained from adventures with hogs-wash and worse, the
accident of his social position as a poor curate, contentedly
drinking ale in the squire's kitchen, falls into its true
insignificance.</p>

<p class="centered"><a name="i355"><img src="images/355.jpg" alt=
"Assignment for 'Joseph Andrews'" width="750" height="512"></a></p>

<p>Rumour assigned to Fielding's friend and neighbour at East
Stour, the Rev. William Young, the honour of being the original of
Parson Adams; and it is a pleasant coincidence that the legal
assignment for <em>Joseph Andrews</em>, here reproduced in
facsimile, should bear the signature, as witness, of the very man
whose "innate goodness" is there immortalised. If there be any
detractors of Fielding's personal character still to be found, they
may be advised to remember the truism that a man is known by his
friends, and to apply themselves to a study of William Young in the
figure of Parson Adams.</p>

<p>Of the charming picture of rustic beauty and innocence presented
in the blushing and warmhearted Fanny less need be said; for
Fielding's ideal in womanhood was soon to be more fully revealed in
the lovely creations of Sophia and Amelia. And honest Joseph
himself, his courage and fidelity, his constancy, his tenderness
and chivalrous passion for Fanny, his affection for Mr Adams, his
voice "too musical to halloo to the dogs," his fine figure and
handsome face, concerns us here chiefly as demonstrating that
Fielding, when he chose, could display both virtue and manliness as
united in the person of a perfectly robust English country lad.</p>

<p>These then, are some of the figures that Fielding loved to
create, breathing into their simple virtues a vigorous human life,
fresh as Coleridge said, as the life of a Spring morning. In these
joyous creations of his heart and of his genius, the great novelist
assuredly gives us a perfectly unconscious revelation of his own
character. And among the changing scenes of this human comedy one
incident must not be forgotten. In the famous episode of the stage
coach, all Fielding's characteristic and relentless hatred of
respectable hypocrisy, all his love of innate if ragged virtue is
betrayed in the compass of a few pages: in those pages in which we
see the robbed, half-murdered, and wholly naked Joseph lifted in
from the wayside ditch amid the protests and merriment of the
respectable passengers; and his shivering body at last wrapped in
the coat of the postilion,--"a Lad who hath since been transported
for robbing a Hen-roost,"--who voluntarily stripped off a
greatcoat, his only garment, "at the same time swearing a great
Oath (for which he was rebuked by the Passengers) 'that he would
rather ride in his Shirt all his Life, than suffer a
Fellow-Creature to lie in so miserable a Condition.'"</p>

<p>Much has been written concerning the notorious feud between
Fielding and Richardson, a feud ostensibly based upon the fact that
<em>Joseph Andrews</em> was, to some extent, frankly a parody of
Richardson's famous production <em>Pamela</em>. In 1740, two years
before the appearance of <em>Joseph Andrews</em> that middle-aged
London printer had published <em>Pamela, or Virtue Rewarded</em>,
achieving thereby an enormous vogue. That amazing mixture of
sententious moralities, of prurience, and of mawkish sentiment,
became the rage of the Town. Admirers ranked it next to the Bible;
the great Mr Pope declared that it would "do more good than many
volumes of Sermons"; and it was even translated into French and
Italian, becoming, according to Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, who did
not love Richardson, "the joy of the chambermaids of all nations."
That all this should have been highly agreeable to the good
Richardson, a 'vegetarian and water-drinker, a worthy,
domesticated, fussy, and highly nervous little man,' ensconced in a
ring of feminine flatterers whom he called 'my ladies,' is obvious;
and proportionate was his wrath with Fielding's <em>Joseph
Andrews</em>, of which the early chapters, at least, are a
perfectly frank, and to Richardson audacious, satire on
<em>Pamela</em>. The caricature was indeed frank. Joseph is
introduced as Pamela's brother; he writes letters to that virtuous
maid-servant; and the Mr B. of Richardson becomes the Squire Booby
of Fielding. But there can be hardly two opinions as to such
ridicule being an entirely justified and wholesome antidote to the
pompous and nauseous original. To Fielding's robust and masculine
genius, says Mr Austin Dobson, "the strange conjunction of purity
and precaution in Richardson's heroine was a thing unnatural and a
theme for inextinguishable Homeric laughter." To Thackeray's
sympathetic imagination the feud was the inevitable outcome of the
difference between the two men. Fielding, he says "couldn't do
otherwise than laugh at the puny cockney bookseller, pouring out
endless volumes of sentimental twaddle, and hold him up to scorn as
a moll-coddle and a milksop. His genius had been nursed on sack
posset, and not on dishes of tea. His muse had sung the loudest in
tavern choruses, and had seen the daylight streaming in over
thousands of empty bowls, and reeled home to chambers on the
shoulders of the watchman. Richardson's goddess was attended by old
maids and dowagers, and fed on muffins and bohea. 'Milksop!' roars
Harry Fielding, clattering at the timid shop-shutters. 'Wretch!
Monster! Mohock!' shrieks the sentimental author of
<em>Pamela</em>; and all the ladies of his court cackle out an
affrighted chorus."</p>

<p>Looking back on the incident it seems matter for yet more
Homeric laughter that Richardson should have called the resplendent
genius of Fielding "low." But the feud, it may be surmised, led to
much of the odium that seems to have attached to Fielding's name
amongst some of his contemporaries. Feeling ran high and was
vividly expressed in those days; and when cousinly admiration for
Fielding was coupled by an excellent comment on Richardson's book
as the delight of the maidservants of all nations, personal retorts
in favour of the popular sentimentalist were but too likely to
ensue. Apart from this aspect of the matter the ancient quarrel
does not seem a very essential incident in Fielding's life.</p>

<p>The lack of means indicated by Fielding himself, in his
reminiscence of this winter of 1741-2 as darkened by the illness of
himself, his wife and of a favourite child, attended "with other
Circumstances, which served as very proper Decorations to such a
Scene," received but little alleviation from the publication of
<em>Joseph Andrews</em>. The price paid for the book by Andrew
Millar was but £183, 11s.; and there is no record that Millar
supplemented the original sum, as he did in the case of <em>Tom
Jones</em>, when the sale was assured. The first edition appears to
have consisted of 1,500 copies. A second edition, of 2,000 copies
was issued in the same <a name="fnref8-2">summ</a>er, <a class=
"footnote" href="#fn8-2">2</a> and a third edition followed in
1743.</p>

<p>Fielding's formal declaration that he described "not men but
manners"; his solemn protest, in the preface to this very book,
that "I have no Intention to vilify or asperse anyone: for tho'
everything is copied from the Book of Nature, and scarce a
Character or Action produced which I have not taken from my own
Observations and Experience, yet I have used the utmost Care to
obscure the Persons by such different Circumstances, Degrees, and
Colours, that it will be impossible to guess at them with any
degree of Certainty"--represent rather his intention than the
result. The portraits of "manners" by the "prose Homer of human
nature" were too lifelike to escape frequent identification. Thus
not only was the prototype of Parson Adams discovered, but that of
his antithesis, the pig-breeding Mr Trulliber, was thought to exist
in the person of the Rev. Mr Oliver, the Dorsetshire curate under
whose tutelage Fielding had been placed when a boy. Tradition also
connects Mr Peter Pounce with the Dorsetshire usurer Peter <a name=
"fnref8-3">Walter</a>. <a class="footnote" href="#fn8-3">3</a></p>

<p>Two echoes have come down to us of the early appreciation of
this novel. A translation of <em>Joseph Andrews</em>, "par une Dame
Angloise," and bound for Marie Antoinette by Derome le Jeune, was
placed on the shelves of her library in the Petit <a name=
"fnref8-4">Trianon</a>. <a class="footnote" href="#fn8-4">4</a>
And, seven years after the appearance of <em>Joseph Andrews</em>,
Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, when sixty years old, writes from her
Italian exile: "I have at length received the box with the books
enclosed, for which I give you many thanks as they amuse me very
much. I gave a very ridiculous proof of it, fitter indeed for my
granddaughter than myself. I returned from a party on horseback;
and after having rode 20 miles, part of it by moonshine, it was ten
at night when I found the box arrived. I could not deny myself the
pleasure of opening it; and falling upon Fielding's works was fool
enough to sit up all night reading. I think Joseph Andrews better
than his <a name="fnref8-5">Foundling</a>." <a class="footnote"
href="#fn8-5">5</a></p>

<h2><a name="chapter9">CHAPTER IX</a><br>
<br>
THE <em>Miscellanies</em> AND <em>Jonathan Wild</em></h2>

<p class="quoted">"Is there on earth a greater object of contempt
than the poor scholar to a splendid beau; unless perhaps the
splendid beau to the poor scholar."<br>
 &nbsp;&nbsp;<em>Covent Garden Journal</em>, No. 61.</p>

<p>If the 'sunrise' of Fielding's genius did indeed shine forth on
the publication of <em>Joseph Andrews</em>, it was a sunrise
attended by dark clouds. For, with the appearance of these two
little volumes, we enter on the most obscure period of the great
novelist's life, and on that in which he appears to have suffered
the severest 'invasions of Fortune.'</p>

<p>As regards the winter immediately preceding the appearance of
that joyous epic of the highway, he himself has told us that he was
'laid up in the gout, with a favourite Child dying in one Bed, and
my Wife in a Condition very little better, on another, attended
with other Circumstances, which served as very proper Decorations
to such a Scene.' In the following February, an entry in the
registers of St Martin's in the Fields records the burial of a
child "Charlott Fielding." So it is probable that the very month of
the appearance of his first novel brought a private grief to
Fielding the poignancy of which may be measured by his frequent
betrayals of an anxious affection for his children.</p>

<p>To such distresses of sickness and anxiety, there was now,
doubtless, added the further misery of scanty means. For a few
months later an advertisement (hitherto overlooked) appears in the
<em>Daily Post</em>, showing that Fielding was already eagerly
pushing forward the publication of the <em>Miscellanies</em>, that
incoherent collection which is itself proof enough that necessity
alone had called it into being. "The publication of these Volumes,"
he says, "hath been hitherto retarded by the Author's indisposition
last Winter, and a train of melancholy Accidents, scarce to be
parallel'd; but he takes this opportunity to assure his Subscribers
that he will most certainly deliver them within the time mentioned
in his last receipts, viz. by the 25th December <a name=
"fnref9-1">next</a>." <a class="footnote" href="#fn9-1">1</a></p>

<p>We may take it, then, that the first six months of 1742 were
attended by no easy circumstances; and, accordingly, during these
months Fielding's hard-worked pen produced no less than three very
different attempts to win subsistence from those humoursome jades
the nine Muses. To take these efforts in order of date, first
comes, in March, his sole invocation of the historic Muse, the
<em>Full Vindication of the Dutchess Dowager of Marlborough</em>,
published almost before Joseph Andrews was clear of the printers,
and sold at the modest price of one shilling. We learn from the
title page that the <em>Vindication</em> was called forth by a
"late <em>scurrilous</em> Pamphlet," containing "<em>base</em> and
<em>malicious</em> Invectives" against Her Grace. Together with
Fielding's natural love for fighting, a family tie may have given
him a further incitement to draw his pen on behalf of the aged
Duchess. For his first cousin, Mary Gould, the only child of his
uncle James Gould, M.P. for Dorchester, had married General Charles
Churchill, brother to the great Duke. Whether this cousinship by
marriage led to any personal acquaintance between 'old Sarah' and
Harry Fielding we do not know; and the muniment room at Blenheim
affords no trace of any correspondence between the Duchess and her
champion. But certainly the <em>Vindication</em> lacks nothing of
personal warmth. Fielding tells us that he has never contemplated
the character of that 'Glorious Woman' but with admiration; and he
defends her against the attacks of her opponents through forty
strenuous pages, in which the curious may still hear the echoes of
the controversies that raged round the Duke and his Duchess, their
mistress Queen Anne, and other actors of the Revolution. The
<em>Vindication</em> appeared in March; and a second edition was
called for during the year. As far as Millar's payment goes
Fielding, as appears from the assignment in <em>Joseph
Andrews</em>, received only £5; and it is to be feared that the
Duchess (who is said to have paid the historian Hooke £5000 for his
assistance in the production of her own celebrated pamphlet) placed
but little substantial acknowledgment in Fielding's lean purse. Her
champion at any rate had, within three years, modified the views
expressed in this <em>Vindication</em>, concerning the munificence
of Her Grace's private generosity; for in his journal the <em>True
Patriot</em>, there occurs the following obituary notice, "A Man
supposed to be a Pensioner of the late Duchess of Marlborough....
He is supposed to have been Poor."</p>

<p>This same month of March marked Fielding's final severance with
the <em>Champion</em>. The partners of that paper, meeting on March
the 1st, ordered "that Whereas Henry Fielding Esq., did Originally
possess Two Sixteenth Shares of the Champion as a Writer in the
said paper and having withdrawn himself from that Service for above
Twelve Months past and refused his Assistance in that Capacity
since which time Mr Ralph has solely Transacted the said Business.
It is hereby Declared that the said Writing Shares shall devolve on
and be vested in Mr James <a name="fnref9-2">Ralph</a>." <a class=
"footnote" href="#fn9-2">2</a> It is curious that Fielding did not
add to his impoverished exchequer by selling his <em>Champion</em>
shares.</p>

<p>Having sought assistance from the Muse of history in March,
Fielding returns to his old charmer the dramatic Muse in May;
assisting in that month to produce a farce, at Drury Lane, entitled
<em>Miss Lucy in Town</em>. In this piece, he tells us, he had a
very small share. He also received for it a very small
remuneration; £10, 10s. being recorded as the price paid by Andrew
Millar.</p>

<p>In the following month Fielding's inexhaustible energies were
off on a new tack, producing, in startling contrast to <em>Miss
Lucy</em>, a classical work, executed in collaboration with his
friend the Rev. William Young, otherwise Parson Adams. The two
friends contemplated a series of translations of all the eleven
comedies of Aristophanes; adorned by notes containing "besides a
full Explanation of the Author, a compleat History of the Manners
and Customs of the Ancient Greeks particularly of the Athenians";
and in June they inaugurated their scheme with the work in
question, a translation of the <a name="fnref9-3">Plutus</a>. <a
class="footnote" href="#fn9-3">3</a> William Young, says Hutchins,
"had much learning which was the cement of Mr Fielding's connexion
with him"; and Fielding's own scholarship, irradiated by his wit,
would assuredly have made him an ideal translator of Greek comedy.
But the public of 1742 appears to have afforded very little
encouragement to this scheme, preferring that "pretty, dapper,
brisk, smart, pert, Dialogue" of their own comedies, to which
allusion is made in the authors' preface.</p>

<p>The rest of the year shows nothing from a pen somewhat exhausted
perhaps with the production of <em>Joseph Andrews</em> of the
historical <em>Vindication</em>, and of parts of a Drury Lane farce
and of the <em>Plutus</em>, all within five months. And the winter
following, in which the promised <em>Miscellanies</em> should have
appeared, brought, in the renewed illness of his wife, an anxiety
that paralysed even Fielding's buoyant vigour. This we learn from
his own touching apology for the further delay of those volumes; a
delay due, their author tells us, to "the dangerous Illness of one
from whom I draw all the solid Comfort of my Life, during the
greatest Part of this Winter. This, as it is most sacredly true, so
will it, I doubt not, sufficiently excuse the Delay to all who know
<a name="fnref9-4">me</a>." <a class="footnote" href="#fn9-4">4</a>
Early in the following year, after this second winter of crushing
anxiety, and under an urgent pressure for means, Fielding tried
again his familiar <em>rôle</em> of popular dramatist, giving his
public the husks they preferred, in the comedy of the <em>Wedding
Day</em>. This comedy was produced at Drury Lane on the 17th of
February 1743.</p>

<p>If Fielding had failed to descend to the taste of the Town in
offering them Aristophanes, he flung them in the <em>Wedding
Day</em> something too imperfect for acceptance, even by the
'critic jury of the pit,' And the bitter humour in which he was now
shackling his genius to the honourable task of immediate
bread-winning, or in his own words to the part of "hackney writer,"
comes out clearly enough in the well-known anecdote of the first
night of this comedy. In Murphy's words, Garrick, then a new
player, just taking the Town by storm, "told Mr Fielding he was
apprehensive that the audience would make free in a particular
passage; adding that a repulse might so flurry his spirits as to
disconcert him for the rest of the night, and therefore begged that
it might be omitted. 'No, d--mn 'em,' replied the bard, 'if the
scene is not a good one, let them find <em>that</em> out.'
Accordingly the play was brought on without alteration, and, just
as had been foreseen, the disapprobation of the house was provoked
at the passage before objected to; and the performer alarmed and
uneasy at the hisses he had met with, retired into the green-room,
where the author was indulging his genius, and solacing himself
with a bottle of champaign." Fielding, continues Murphy, had by
this time drank pretty plentifully, and "'<em>What's the matter,
Garrick?</em>' says he, '<em>what are they hissing now?</em>' Why
the scene that I begged you to retrench; I knew it would not do;
and they have so frightened me that I shall not be able to collect
myself again the whole night. <em>Oh! d--mn 'em</em>, replies the
author, <em>they HAVE found it out, have they!</em>" That Fielding
should be scornfully indifferent to the judgment of the pit on work
forced from him by overwhelming necessities, and which his own
judgment condemned, is a foregone conclusion; but that he suffered
keenly in having to produce imperfect work, and was jealously
anxious to clear his reputation, as a writer, in the matter of this
particular comedy, is no less apparent from the very unusual
personal explanation he offered for it, soon after the brief run of
the play was over. For no man was more shy of autobiographical
revelations. His biographers are continually reduced to gleaning
stray hints, here and there, concerning his private <a name=
"fnref9-5">life</a>. <a class="footnote" href="#fn9-5">5</a> And
therefore we can measure by this emergence from a habitual personal
reticence the soreness with which he now published work unworthy of
his genius. "Mr Garrick," Fielding tells us, speaking of this
distressed winter of 1742-3 "... asked me one Evening, if I had any
play by me; telling me he was desirous of appearing in a new Part
[and] ... as I was full as desirous of putting Words into his
Mouth, as he could appear to be of speaking them, I mentioned [a]
Play the very next morning to Mr <em>Fleetwood</em> who embraced my
Proposal so heartily, that an Appointment was immediately made to
read it to the Actors who were principally to be concerned in it."
On consideration, however, this play appeared to Fielding to need
more time for perfecting, and also to afford very little
opportunity to Garrick. So, recollecting that he still had by him a
play which, although 'the third Dramatic Performance' he ever
attempted, contained a character that would keep the audience's "so
justly favourite Actor almost eternally before their Eyes," he
decided, with characteristic impetuosity, to a change at the last
moment. "I accordingly," he writes, "sat down with a Resolution to
work Night and Day, owing to the short Time allowed me, which was
about a Week, in altering and correcting this Production of my more
Juvenile Years; when unfortunately the extreme Danger of Life into
which a Person, very dear to me, was reduced, rendered me incapable
of executing my Task. To this Accident alone I have the vanity to
apprehend, the Play owes most of the glaring Faults with which it
appeared.... Perhaps, it may be asked me why then did I suffer a
Piece which I myself knew was imperfect, to appear? I answer
honestly and freely, that Reputation was not my Inducement; and
that I hoped, faulty as it was, it might answer a much more solid,
and in my unhappy situation, a much more urgent Motive." This hope
was, alas, frustrated; not even the brilliancy of a cast which
included Garrick, Mrs Pritchard, Macklin, and Peg Woffington, could
carry the <em>Wedding Day</em> over its sixth night; and the
harassed author received 'not £50 from the House for it.' The
comedy is a coarsely moral attack on libertinism, a fact which
probably, in no wise added to the popularity of the play in the pit
and boxes of 1743.</p>

<p>A doggerel prologue, both written and spoken by Macklin, gives
an excellent picture of the playhouse humours, and of the wild pit,
of those exuberant days; and contains moreover the following sound
advice, addressed to Fielding</p>

<p class="quoted">"Ah! thou foolish follower of the ragged Nine<br>
 You'd better stuck to honest Abram Adams, by half;<br>
 He, in spite of critics can make your Readers laugh."</p>

<p>The next publication of these lean years was the
<em>Miscellanies</em>, a collection of mingled prose, verse, and
drama, of which the only connecting link seems to be the urgent
need of money which forced so heterogenous a medley from so great
an artist. These long delayed volumes appeared, probably, in April,
and were, says Fielding, composed with a frequent "Degree of
Heartache." They include the lover's verses of his early youth;
philosophical, satiric, and didactic essays; a reprint of the
political effusion dedicated to Dodington; a few plays; the
fragment entitled <em>A Journey from this World to the Next</em>;
and the splendid ironic outburst on villany, <em>Jonathan
Wild</em>.</p>

<p>The <em>Preface</em>, largely occupied as it is with those
private circumstances which forced the hasty production of the
<em>Wedding Day</em>, has other matter of even greater interest for
the biographer. Thus Fielding's sensitive care of his reputation in
essential matters appears in the fiery denial here given to
allegations of publishing anonymous scandals: "I never was, nor
will be the Author of anonymous Scandal on the private History or
Family of any Person whatever. Indeed there is no Man who speaks or
thinks with more detestation of the modern custom of Libelling. I
look on the practice of stabbing a Man's Character in the Dark, to
be as base and as barbarous as that of stabbing him with a Poignard
in the same manner; nor have I ever been once in my Life guilty of
it." Here too, he marks his abhorrence of that 'detestable Vice'
hypocrisy, which vice he was, before long, to expose utterly in the
person of Blifil in <em>Tom Jones</em>. His happy social
temperament is betrayed in the characteristic definition of good
breeding as consisting in "contributing with our utmost Power to
the Satisfaction and Happiness of all about us." And in these pages
we have Fielding's philosophy of <em>goodness</em> and
<em>greatness</em>, delivered in words that already display an
unrivalled perfection of style. Speaking of his third volume, that
poignant indictment of devilry the <em>Life of Mr Jonathan Wild the
Great</em>, it is thus that Fielding exposes the iniquity of
villains in "great" places:--"But without considering
<em>Newgate</em> as no other than Human Nature with its mask off,
which some very shameless Writers have done, a Thought which no
Price should purchase me to entertain, I think we may be excused
for suspecting, that the splendid Palaces of the Great, are often
no other than <em>Newgate</em> with the Mask on. Nor do I know
anything which can raise an honest Man's Indignation higher than
that the same Morals should be in one Place attended with all
imaginable Misery and Infamy and in the other with the highest
Luxory and Honour. Let any impartial Man in his Senses be asked,
for which of these two Places a Composition of Cruelty, Lust,
Avarice, Rapine, Insolence, Hypocrisy, Fraud and Treachery, was
best fitted, surely his Answer must be certain and immediate; and
yet I am afraid all these Ingredients glossed over with Wealth and
a Title, have been treated with the highest Respect and Veneration
in the one, while one or two of them have been condemned to the
Gallows in the other."</p>

<p>Here is the converse of that insight which could discern
goodness under a ragged cassock, or in a swearing postilion. And,
having discerned the true nature of such Great Men, Fielding
proceeds to point out that "However the Glare of Riches and Awe of
Title may terrify the Vulgar; nay however Hypocrisy may deceive the
more Discerning, there is still a Judge in every Man's Breast,
which none can cheat or corrupt, tho' perhaps it is the only
uncorrupt thing about him"; that nothing is so preposterous as that
men should laboriously seek to be villains; and that this Judge,
inflexible and honest "however polluted the Bench on which he
sits," always bestows on the spurious Great the penalty of fear, an
evil which "never can in any manner molest the Happiness" of the
"Enjoyments of Innocence and Virtue."</p>

<p>The subsequent philosophic dissertation on the qualities of
goodness and greatness is interesting for such passages as the
definition of a good man as one possessing "Benevolence, Honour,
Honesty, and Charity"; and the fine declaration that of the passion
of Love "goodness hath always appeared to me the only true and
proper Object." And the very springs of action underlying half at
least of each of the three great novels, and almost every page of
<em>Jonathan Wild</em>, are revealed in the final declaration of
the writer's intention to expose in these pages vice stripped of
its false colours; to show it "in its native Deformity." As the
native and stripped deformity of vice is perhaps not often fully
apprehended and certainly is very seldom exposed in our own age,
Fielding, by the very sincerity and fire of his morality, doubtless
loses many a modern reader.</p>

<p>It is in the third volume of the <em>Miscellanies</em>, a volume
completely occupied by <em>Jonathan Wild</em>, that Fielding first
fully reveals himself as public moralist. And in this Rogue's
progress to the gallows he displays so concentrated a zeal, that
nothing short of his genius and his humour could have saved these
pages from the dullness of the professional reformer. For the
little volume consists of a relentless exposure of the deformity
and folly of vice. Here the foul souls of Wild and his associates,
stripped of all the glamour of picturesque crime, stand displayed
in their essential qualities, with the result that even the
pestilential air of thieves' slums, of 'night cellars,' and of
Newgate purlieus, an air which hangs so heavy over every page,
falls back into insignificance before the loathsomeness of the
central figure. A few years later, in the preface to <em>Tom
Jones</em>, Fielding formally asserted his belief that the beauty
of goodness needed but to be seen 'to attract the admiration of
mankind'; in <em>Jonathan Wild</em> he appears to be already at
work on the converse doctrine, that if the deformity of vice be but
stripped naked, abhorrence must ensue. Such a naked criminal is
Wild; and in the contemplation of his vices, as in the case of the
arch hypocrite Blifil, in <em>Tom Jones</em>, and of the shameless
sensualist "My Lord," in <em>Amelia</em>, Fielding's characteristic
compassion for the faults of hard pressed humanity is, for the
time, scorched up in the fierceness of his anger and scorn at
deliberate cruelty, avarice and lust. Under the spell of Fielding's
power of painting the devil in his native blackness, we feel that
for such as Wild hanging is too handsome a fate. It is easy for his
Newgate chaplain to assert that "nothing is so sinful as sin"; it
takes a great genius and a great moralist to convince us, as in
this picture, that nothing is so deformed or so contemptible. The
dark places of <em>Jonathan Wild</em> receive some light in the
character of the good jeweller, in the tender scenes between that
honest ruined tradesman and his wife and children, and in the
devoted affection of his apprentice. But the true illumination of
the book, and its personal value for the biographer, lie in the
white heat of anger, the "sustained and sleepless irony" to adopt
Mr Austin Dobson's happy phrase, with which Fielding, with a force
unwavering from the first page to the last, here assails his
subject. An underlying attack on the Ministerial iniquity of "Great
Men" in high places seems to be often suggested; if this be a true
inference, it does but give us further proof of Fielding's energies
as a political, no less than as a moral, reformer. Certainly,
through all the squalid scenes of the book, the contention is
insisted on that criminals of Wild's tyrannical stamp may as easily
be found in courts, and at the head of armies, as among the poor
leaders of Newgate gangs. To the wise moralist it is the same
rogue, whether picking a pocket or swindling his country.</p>

<p>And not to forget the wit in the moral reformer, we may leave Mr
Jonathan Wild listening to one of the reasons given by the Newgate
chaplain for his Reverence's preference for punch over wine: "Let
me tell you, Mr Wild there is nothing so deceitful as the spirits
given us by wine. If you must drink let us have a bowl of punch; a
liquor I the rather prefer as it is nowhere spoken against in
Scripture."</p>

<p>After <em>Jonathan Wild</em> the most interesting fragment of
the <em>Miscellanies</em> is the <em>Journey from this World to the
Next</em>. In this essay Fielding reveals his philosophy, his
sternness, his affections, and his humour, as a man might do in
intimate conversation. His warm humanity breathes in the conception
that "the only Business" of those who had won admission to Elysium
'that happy Place,' was to "contribute to the Happiness of each
other"; and again in the stern declaration of Heaven's doorkeeper,
the Judge Minos, that "no Man enters that Gate without Charity."
And indeed the whole chapter devoted to the judgments administered
by Minos on the spirits that come, confident or trembling, before
him, and are either admitted to Heaven, sent back to earth, or
despatched to the "little Back Gate" opening immediately into the
bottomless pit, is full of personal revelation. We feel the glee
with which Fielding consigns the "little sneaking soul" of a miser
to diabolically ingenious torments; the satisfaction with which he
watches Minos apply a kick to the retreating figure of a duke,
possessed of nothing but "a very solemn Air and great Dignity"; and
the pleasure it gave him to observe the rejection accorded to "a
grave Lady," the Judge declaring that "there was not a single Prude
in Elysium." Again, nothing could be more true to Fielding's nature
than the account of the poet who is admitted, not for the moral
value he himself places on his Dramatic Works (which he endeavours
to read aloud to Minos), but because "he had once lent the whole
profits of a Benefit Night to a Friend, and by that Means had saved
him and his Family from Destruction"; unless it were the account of
the poverty driven wretch, hanged for a robbery of eighteen-pence,
who yet could plead that he had supported an aged Parent with his
labour, that he had been a very tender Husband, and a Kind Father,
and that he had ruined himself for being Bail for a Friend. "At
these words," adds the historian, "the gate opened, and
<em>Minos</em> bid him enter, giving him a slap on the Back as he
passed by him."</p>

<p>When the author's own turn came, he very little expects, he
tells us, "to pass this fiery Trial. I confess'd I had indulged
myself very freely with Wine and Women in my Youth, but had never
done an Injury to any Man living, nor avoided an opportunity of
doing good; but I pretended to very little Virtue more than general
Philanthropy and Private Friendship." Here Minos cut the speaker
short, bidding him enter the gate, and not indulge himself
trumpeting forth his virtues. Whether or no we may here read the
reflections of Fielding's maturity, looking honestly back over his
own forty years and forward with humble fear into the future, we
may certainly see reflected in both confession and judgment much of
the doctrine and the practice of his life.</p>

<p>After the failure, early in 1743, of the <em>Wedding Day</em>,
and the subsequent publication of the <em>Miscellanies</em>,
Fielding seems to have thrown his energies for twelve months into
an exclusive pursuit of the law. This appears from his statement,
made a year later, in May 1744, that he could not possibly be the
author of his sister's novel <em>David Simple</em>, which had been
attributed to him, because he had applied himself to his profession
"with so arduous and intent a diligence that I have had no leisure,
if I had inclination, to compose anything of this kind." Clearly,
in the period that covers the publication of <em>Joseph
Andrews</em> an historical pamphlet, parts of a farce and of
<em>Plutus</em>, and of the <em>Miscellanies</em>, Fielding found
both leisure and inclination for writing; so this sudden immersion
in law must relate to the twelve months or so intervening between
these works and the publication of his statement. Murphy
corroborates this bout of hard legal effort. After the <em>Wedding
Day</em> says that biographer "the law from this time had its hot
and cold fits with him." The cold fits were fits of gout; and
inconveniences felt by Fielding from these interruptions were, adds
Murphy "the more severe upon him, as voluntary and wilful neglect
could not be charged upon him. The repeated shocks of illness
disabled him from being as assiduous an attendant at the bar, as
his own inclination and patience of the most laborious application,
would otherwise have made him."</p>

<p>Mr Counsellor Fielding follows his retrospect of this strenuous
attack on the law with a declaration that, henceforth, he intends
to forsake the pursuit of that 'foolscap' literary fame, and the
company of the 'infamous' nine Muses; a decision based partly on
the insubstantial nature of the rewards achieved, and partly it
would seem due to the fact that at Fielding's innocent door had
been laid, he declares, half the anonymous scurrility, indecency,
treason, and blasphemy that the few last years had <a name=
"fnref9-6">produced</a>. <a class="footnote" href="#fn9-6">6</a> In
especial he protests against the ascription to his pen of that
'infamous paltry libel' on lawyers, the <em>Causidicade</em>, an
ascription which, as he truly says, accused him "not only of being
a bad writer and a bad man, but with downright idiotism in flying
in the face of the greatest men of my profession." He also declares
that no anonymous work had issued from his pen since his promise to
that effect; and that these false accusations had injured him
cruelly in ease, reputation and interest. This solemn declaration
that the now detested Muses shall no longer beguile Fielding's pen
affords excellent reading in view of the fact that this absorbed
barrister must, within a year or two, have been at work on <em>Tom
Jones</em>. The whole emphatic outburst was probably partly an
effort to assert himself as now wholly devoted to the law, and
partly an example of one of those "occasional fits of peevishness"
into which, Murphy tells us, distress and disappointment would
betray him.</p>

<p>The preface to his sister's novel <em>David Simple</em>, in
which Fielding took occasion to announce these protests and
assertions, is his only extant publication for this year of 1744;
and apart from its biographical value is not of any great moment.
Ample proof may be found in it of brotherly pride and admiration
for the work of a sister "so nearly and dearly allied to me in the
highest friendship as well as relation." There is the noteworthy
declaration that the "greatest, noblest, and rarest of all the
talents which constitute a genius" is the gift of "a deep and
profound discernment of all the mazes, windings, and labyrinths
which perplex the heart of man." The utterance concerning style, by
so great a master of English, is memorable--"a good style as well
as a good hand in writing is chiefly learned by practice." And a
delightful reference should not be forgotten to the carping
ignorant critic, who has indeed, "had a little Latin inoculated
into his tail," but who would have been much the gainer had "the
same great quantity of birch been employed in scourging away his
ill-nature."</p>

<p>Disabled by gout and harassed by want of money, a yet greater
distress was now fast closing on Fielding in the prolonged illness
of his wife. "To see her daily languishing and wearing away before
his eyes," says Murphy, "was too much for a man of his strong
sensations; the fortitude with which he met all other calamities of
life [now] deserted him." In the autumn of 1744 Mrs Fielding was at
Bath, doubtless in the hope of benefit from the Bath waters. And
here, in November, she died. Her body was brought to London for
burial in the church of St. Martin's in the Fields; receiving on
the 14th of November, 1744, honourable interment in the chancel
vault, to the tolling of the great tenor bell, and with the fullest
ceremonial of the time. Indeed it is evident, from the charges
still preserved in the sexton's book, that Fielding rendered to his
wife such stately honours as were occasionally accorded to the
members of the few great families interred in the old church.</p>

<p>The death of this beloved wife, Murphy tells us, brought on
Fielding "such a vehemence of grief that his friends began to think
him in danger of losing his reason." When we remember that he
himself has explicitly stated that lovely picture of the 'fair soul
in the fair body,' the Sophia of <em>Tom Jones</em>, to have been
but a portrait of Charlotte Fielding, we can in some measure
realise his overwhelming grief at her death. And that the exquisite
memorial raised to his wife by Fielding's affection and genius was
not more beautiful in mind or face than the original, is
acknowledged by Lady Bute, a kinswoman of the great novelist. Lady
Bute was no stranger, "to that beloved first wife whose picture he
drew in his Amelia, where, as she said, even the glowing language
he knew how to employ did not do more than justice to the amiable
qualities of the original, or to her beauty. He loved her
passionately, and she returned his affection; yet had no happy life
for they were almost always miserably poor, and seldom in a state
of quiet and safety. His elastic gaiety of spirit carried him
through it all; but meanwhile, care and anxiety were preying upon
her more delicate mind, and undermining her constitution. She
gradually declined, caught a fever and died in his arms." That
Fielding's married life was unhappy, whatever were its outward
conditions, is obviously a very shallow misstatement; but, for the
rest, the picture accords well enough with our knowledge of his
nature. The passionate tenderness of which that nature was capable
appears in a passage from those very <em>Miscellanies</em>, which,
he tells us, were written with so frequent a "Degree of Heartache."
In the <em>Journey from this World to the Next</em>, Fielding
describes how, on his entrance into Elysium, that "happy region
whose beauty no Painting of the Imagination can describe" and where
"Spirits know one another by Intuition" he presently met "a little
Daughter whom I had lost several years before. Good Gods! What
Words can describe the Raptures, the melting passionate Tenderness,
with which we kiss'd each other, continuing in our Embrace, with
the most extatic Joy, a Space, which if Time had been measured here
as on Earth, could not have been less than half a Year."</p>

<p>The fittest final comment on Henry Fielding's marriage with
Charlotte Cradock is, perhaps, that saying of a member of his own
craft of the drama, "Now to love anything sincerely is an act of
grace, but to love the best sincerely is a state of grace."</p>

<h2><a name="chapter10">CHAPTER X</a><br>
<br>
PATRIOTIC JOURNALISM</h2>

<p class="quoted">"he only is the <em>true Patriot</em> who always
does what is in his Power for his Country's Service without any
selfish Views or Regard to private Interests."--The <em>True
Patriot</em>.</p>

<p>Fielding's active pen seems to have been laid aside for twelve
months after the death of his wife; and it is perfectly in accord
with all that we know of his passionate devotion to Charlotte
Cradock that her loss should have shattered his energies for the
whole of the ensuing year. Murphy, as we have seen, speaks of the
first vehemence of his grief as being so acute that fears were
entertained for his reason. According to Fielding's kinswomen, Lady
Mary Wortley Montagu and Lady Bute, the first agonies of his grief
approached to frenzy; but "when the first emotions of his sorrow
were abated" his fine balance reasserted itself, and to quote again
from Murphy, "philosophy administered her aid; his resolution
returned, and he began again to struggle with his fortune."</p>

<p>As we hear no more of exclusive devotion to the law, it may be
assumed that the attempt of the previous year to live by that
arduous calling alone was now abandoned; and to a man of Fielding's
strong Protestant and Hanoverian convictions the year of the '45,
when a Stewart Prince and an invading Highland army had captured
Edinburgh and were actually across the border, could not fail to
bring occupation. Fielding believed ardently that Protestant
beliefs, civil liberty, and national independence of foreign powers
were best safeguarded by a German succession to the English throne;
so by the time Prince Charles and 6,000 men had set foot on English
soil, the former 'Champion of Great Britain' was again up in arms,
discharging his sturdy blows in a new weekly newspaper entitled the
<em>True Patriot</em>.</p>

<p>The <em>True Patriot</em> is chiefly notable as affording the
first sign that Fielding was now leaving party politics for the
wider, and much duller, field of Constitutional liberty. A man
might die for the British Constitution; but to be witty about it
would tax the resources of a Lucian. And, accordingly, in place of
that gay young spark Mr Pasquin, who laid his cudgel with so hearty
a good will on the shoulders of the offending 'Great Man,' there
now steps out a very philosophic, mature, and soberly
constitutional <em>Patriot</em>; a patriot who explicitly asserts
in his first number, "I am of no party; a word I hope by these my
labours to eradicate out of our constitution: this being indeed the
true source of all those evils which we have reason to complain
of." And again, in No. 14, "I am engaged to no Party, nor in the
Support of any, unless of such as are truly and sincerely attached
to the true interest of their Country, and are resolved to hazard
all Things in its Preservation." Here is a considerable change from
the personal zest that placed Mr Quiddam and Mr Pillage before
delighted audiences in the Little Theatre in the Haymarket.</p>

<p>The available copies of the <em>True Patriot</em>, now in the
British <a name="fnref10-1">Museum</a>, <a class="footnote" href=
"#fn10-1">1</a> include only thirty-two numbers, starting from No.
1, which appeared on the 5th of November, 1745, and ending on June
3, 1746. The first number contains a characteristic tribute to Dean
Swift, whose death had occurred 'a few days since.' Doctor Jonathan
Swift, says the <em>Patriot</em>, was "A genius who deserves to be
rank'd among the first whom the World ever saw. He possessed the
Talents of a Lucian a Rabelais and a Cervantes and in his Works
exceeded them all. He employed his Wit to the noblest Purposes in
ridiculing as well Superstition in Religion as Infidelity and the
several Errors and Immoralities which sprung up from time to time
in his Age; and lastly in defence of his Country.... Nor was he
only a Genius and a Patriot; he was in Private Life a good and
charitable Man and frequently lent Sums of Money, without interest,
to the Poor and Industrious; by which means many Families were
preserved from Destruction." In No. 2, the <em>Patriot</em>
reiterates his "sincere Intention to calm and heal, not to blow up
and inflame, any Party-Divisions"; but even the task of defending
the British Constitution could not stifle Fielding's wit, and he
escapes, for breathing space as it were, into a column devoted to
the news items of the week, gathered from various papers, and
adorned by comments of his own, printed in italics. And in this
running commentary on the daily occurences of the time we get
nearer, perhaps, to the table-talk of Henry Fielding than by any
other means. Thus he faithfully repeats the inflated obituary lists
that were then in fashion, but with such a variation as the
following, "Thomas Tonkin, ... universally lamented by his
Acquaintance. Upwards of 40 Cows belonging to one at Tottenham
Court, <em>universally lamented by all their Acquaintance</em>." On
a notice of an anniversary meeting of the Society for propagating
the Gospel in Foreign Parts there is the pertinent comment "<em>It
is a Pity some Method--was not invented for the Propagation of the
Gospel in Great Britain</em>." After the deaths of a wealthy banker
and factor, comes the obituary of "One Nowns a Labourer, <em>most
probably immensely poor, and yet as rich now as either of the two
Preceeding</em>"; beside which may be placed the very
characteristic assertion in No. 6 that "Spleen and Vapours inhabit
Palaces and are attired with Pomp and Splendor, while they shun
Rags and Prisons."</p>

<p>There is scarcely a personal allusion in all the thirty-two
numbers of the <em>Patriot</em>, save the charming picture of that
gentleman sitting in his study "meditating for the good and
entertainment of the public, with my two little children (as is my
usual course to suffer them) playing near me." And the ending of
his horrid nightmare, in which a Jacobite executioner was placing a
rope round his neck, "when my little girl entered my bedchamber and
put an end to my dream by pulling open my eyes, and telling me that
the taylor had brought home my cloaths for his Majesty's Birthday."
The number for January 28 must not be overlooked, containing as it
does, a scathing and humourous exposure of the profligate young
sparks of the Town, from no less a pen than that of the Rev. Mr.
Abraham Adams; and Parson Adams' letter concludes with a paragraph
in which may be heard the voice of the future zealous magistrate:
"No man can doubt but that the education of youth ought to be the
principal care of every legislation; by the neglect of which great
mischief accrues to the civil polity in every city." When himself
but a lad of twenty, and in the prologue of his first comedy,
Fielding had entered his protest against certain popular vices of
the time, and had made merry over its follies. The desire to make
the world he knew too well a better place than he found it is just
as keen in the wit and humourist of thirty-nine; a desire,
moreover, undulled by twenty years of vivacious living. Surely not
the least amazing feature of Fielding's genius is this dual
capacity for exuberant enjoyment, and incisive judgement. "His
wit," said Thackeray, "is wonderfully wise and detective; it
flashes upon a rogue and brightens up a rascal like a policeman's
lantern."</p>

<p>To this time of national ferment belongs a publication of which
we know nothing but the title, a <em>Serious Address</em>; and also
one of our rare glimpses of the novelist's home life. Joseph Warton
writes to his brother Tom, on October 29, 1746:--"I wish you had
been with me last week when I spent two evenings with Fielding and
his sister, who wrote David Simple, and you may guess I was very
well entertained. The lady indeed retir'd pretty soon, but Russell
and I sat up with the Poet till one or two in the morning, and were
inexpressibly diverted. I find he values, as he justly may, Joseph
Andrews above all his writings: he was extremely civil to me, I
fancy, on my Father's account." Joseph Warton's father was Vicar of
Basingstoke, Professor of Poetry at Oxford, and moreover, something
of a Jacobite; whereby, we may surmise, that the <em>True
Patriot</em> did not allow his staunch Hanoverian sentiments too
great an invasion into his private society. Alas, that it did not
occur to Warton to preserve, for the entertainment of later ages,
some fuller record of those two <em>noctes ambrosianae</em>.</p>

<p>This sister, Sally Fielding as her cousin Lady Mary Wortley
Montagu called her, made some figure in the literary world of the
day. Richardson extolled her "knowledge of the human heart"; Murphy
writes of her "lively and penetrating genius"; and her classical
scholarship is attested by a translation of Xenophon's
<em>Memorabilia</em>. That she also shared some of the engaging
qualities of her brother may be assumed from the lines written to
the memory of the "esteemed and loved ... Mrs. Sarah Fielding," by
her friend Dr. John Hoadley.</p>

<p class="quoted">"Her unaffected Manners, candid Mind,<br>
 Her Heart benevolent, and Soul resign'd;<br>
 Were more her Praise than all she knew or thought<br>
 Though Athens Wisdom to her Sex she taught."</p>

<p class="centered"><a name="i356"><img src="images/356.jpg" alt=
"Beaufort Buildings, Strand, in 1725" width="610" height="500">
</a></p>

<p>Sarah Fielding's name occurs again as living with her brother in
that house in Beaufort Buildings with which is associated perhaps
the happiest instance of Fielding's warm-hearted generosity. The
story may be given as nearly as possible in the words of the
narrator, one G. S., writing from Harley Street in 1786. After
speaking of the conspicuous good nature of "the late Harry
Fielding," G. S. says: "His receipts were never large, and his
pocket was an open bank for distress and friendship at all times to
draw on. Marked by such a liberality of mind it is not to be
wondered at if he was frequently under pecuniary embarrassments....
Some parochial taxes for his house in Beaufort Buildings being
unpaid, and for which he had been demanded again and again [we may
remember how Mr. Luckless' door was "almost beat down with
duns"]...he was at last given to understand by the collector who
had an esteem for him, that he could procrastinate the payment no
longer." To a bookseller, therefore he addressed himself, and
mortgaged the coming sheets of some work then in hand. He received
the cash, some ten or twelve guineas, and was returning home, full
freighted with this sum, when, in the Strand, within a few yards of
his own house, he met an old college chum whom he had not seen for
many years. "Harry felt the enthusiasm of friendship; an hundred
interrogatives were put to him in a moment as where had he been?
where was he going? how did he do? &amp;c. &amp;c. His friend told
him in reply he had long been buffeting the waves of adverse
fortunes, but never could surmount them." Fielding took him off to
dine at a neighbouring tavern, and as they talked, becoming
acquainted with the state of his friend's pocket, emptied his own
into it; and a little before dawn, he turned homewards "greater and
happier than a monarch." Arrived at Beaufort Buildings his sister,
who had anxiously awaited him, reported that the collector had
called for the taxes twice that day. "Friendship," answered Harry
Fielding "has called for the money and had it;--let the collector
call again." Well might his cousin Lady Mary say of the man of whom
such a story could be told, "I am persuaded he has known more happy
moments than any prince upon earth."</p>

<p>During the summer following Warton's visit to the brother and
sister, Fielding published a <em>Dialogue between an Alderman and a
Courtier</em>. And in the following November his second marriage
took place, at the little City church of St Bene't's, Paul's Wharf.
The story of this marriage cannot be better told than in the words
of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu's granddaughter, Lady Louisa Stuart,
quoting from the personal knowledge of her mother and
grandmother:</p>

<p>"His biographers seem to have been shy of disclosing that after
the death of this charming woman [his first wife] he married her
maid. And yet the act was not so discreditable to his character as
it may sound. The maid had few personal charms, but was an
excellent creature, devotedly attached to her mistress, and almost
broken-hearted for her loss. In the first agonies of his own grief,
which approached to frenzy, he found no relief but from weeping
with her; nor solace, when a degree calmer, but in talking to her
of the angel they mutually regretted. This made her his habitual
confidential associate, and in process of time he began to think he
could not give his children a tenderer mother, or secure for
himself a more faithful housekeeper and nurse. At least this was
what he told his friends; and it is certain that her conduct as his
wife confirmed it, and fully justified his good opinion." From a
supposed allusion by Smollett, in the first edition of
<em>Peregrine Pickle</em>, (an allusion afterwards suppressed) it
would appear that Fielding's old schoolfellow and lifelong friend
'the good Lord Lyttelton' so far approved the marriage as himself
to give Mary Daniel away; and, as the dates in the Twickenham
Register of births show that the marriage was one of justice as
well as expediency, this well accords with Lyttelton's upright and
honourable character. Of Fielding's affectionate and grateful
loyalty to his second wife ample evidence appears in the pages of
his last book, the <em>Journal of a Voyage to Lisbon</em>.
Throughout this touching record of the journey of a dying man,
there are references to her tenderness, ability and devotion. At
the sad parting from children and friends, on the morning of their
departure for Lisbon, he writes of her behaviour as "more like a
heroine and philosopher, though at the same time the tenderest
mother in the world." When, during the voyage down the Thames, an
unmannerly custom house officer burst into the cabin where Fielding
and his wife were sitting, the man was soundly rated for breaking
"into the presence of a lady without an apology or even moving his
hat"; by which we may see his sensitive care that due respect was
accorded her. He tells us how he persuaded her with difficulty to
take a walk on shore when their vessel was wind bound in Torbay, it
being "no easy matter for me to force [her] from my side." With
anxious forboding he thinks of his "dear wife and child" facing the
world alone after his death, for "in truth I have often thought
they are both too good and too gentle to be trusted to the power of
any man I know, to whom they could possibly be so trusted." And in
a more formal tribute he acknowledges the abilities that
accompanied her worth, when he says that "besides discharging
excellently well her own and all tender offices becoming the female
character; ... besides being a faithful friend, an amiable
companion, and a tender nurse, [she] could likewise supply the
wants of a decrepit husband and occasionally perform his part."
That Fielding suffered socially by the fact of his second marriage
is probable. But the fact is proof, if proof were needed, of his
courage in reparation, and of the unworldly spirit in which he
ultimately followed the dictates of that incorruptible judge which
he himself asserted to be in every man's breast.</p>

<p>It was in December 1747, just a month after his second marriage,
that Fielding again flung himself into the arena of contentious
journalism, 'brandishing' his pen as truculently as ever on behalf
of the Protestant and Hanoverian succession, and in despite of the
Jacobite cause. He called his new paper "<em>The Jacobite's
Journal</em>, by John Trott Plaid Esq're.," and the ironic title
was accompanied by a woodcut traditionally associated with Hogarth.
The ironic mask, Fielding explains, was assumed "in order if
possible to laugh Men out of their follies and to make men ashamed
of owning or acting by" Jacobite principles.</p>

<p>The <em>Jacobite's Journal</em> appeared at a moment when public
opinion, and public gossip also, seem to have been immersed in the
question whether a notorious pamphlet purporting to have been found
among the papers of a late Minister, Mr. Thomas Winnington, were
genuine or a libel. Into this fray Fielding promptly plunged,
publishing, in December <a name="fnref10-2">1747</a>, <a class=
"footnote" href="#fn10-2">2</a> a shilling pamphlet entitled <em>A
Proper Answer to a Late Scurrilous Libel, ... By the Author of the
Jacobites Journal.</em> This little pamphlet, copies of which may
be seen in the British Museum, is merely a further vigorous
declamation for civil liberty and the Protestant religion, as under
King George, and contains hardly any reference either to Winnington
or to the author. It was retorted on in two further pamphlets. In
one of these a Lady Fanny and her friend, enjoying a 'Chit chat,'
discuss the news that Lady Fanny is she "whom F---g represents in a
<em>Plaid Jocket</em> in the front of his <em>Jacobite</em>
Journal." "The Whirling Coxcomb," cries Lady Fanny enraged, "what
had he to do with ridiculing any Party, who had travell'd round the
whole Circle of Parties and Ministers, ever since he could brandish
a <a name="fnref10-3">Pen</a>." <a class="footnote" href=
"#fn10-3">3</a> Her Ladyship adds some further sneers on writers
pensioned to amuse people with their nonsense. The other counter
pamphlet consists of conversations overheard, all over the town, on
the subject of Winnington and his <em>Apology</em>. Here a mercer
and a bookseller abuse Fielding for boxing the political compass,
and for selling his pen. Another bookseller insinuates that
Fielding's own attack on the <em>Apology</em> is but a half-hearted
affair--"Ah Sir, you know not what F---g could do if he were
willing ... you would have seen him mince and hash it so as to make
half the Town weep and the other laugh. Don't you think the Pen
that writ <em>Pasquin, Joseph Andrews</em>, and the
<em>Champion</em> could have answered the Apology if he had had the
Will?" "But I can't see why the Author of the Jacobite Journal
should want that will," protests a Bencher. "Alas Sir!" cries the
bookseller, "You forget the Power of <em>Necessity</em>. If a Man
that wants Bread can establish a Paper by the P--t Off--e [Post
Office?] taking off two thousand every week is he not more
excusable...." To which the Bencher replies that possibly it is
Fielding's 'Wavering Principles' that have "brought him to the
Necessity of writing for <a name="fnref10-4">Bread</a>." <a class=
"footnote" href="#fn10-4">4</a> From all which we may assume that
Fielding's superiority to what he calls the "absurd and irrational
Distinction of Parties [which] hath principally contributed to
poison our <a name="fnref10-5">Constitution</a>" <a class=
"footnote" href="#fn10-5">5</a> was very little understood by the
heated party factions of 1747.</p>

<p>To call one's political opponent a 'Whirling Coxcomb,' or a
'pensioned scribbler,' was a very mild amenity in eighteenth
century party warfare; and the abuse of such small fry as these
anonymous pamphleteers might be wholly disregarded did it not show
Fielding's prominence, during these anxious times, as a strenuous
Hanoverian, and also the fact that he had now not only largely
abjured party politics, but that what party tenets he still held
were changed. Indeed as much may surely be deduced from the
following philosophic passage in his <em>True Patriot</em>. "I have
formerly shown in this Paper, that the bare objecting to a Man a
<em>Change</em> in his <em>Political Notions</em>, ought by no
means to affect any Person's <em>Character</em>; because in a
Country like this it is simply impossible that a Man of sound
Sense, and strict Honour, should always adhere to the same
<em>Political <a name="fnref10-6">Creed</a></em>." <a class=
"footnote" href="#fn10-6">6</a> It is very little material to our
knowledge of Fielding as an honest man and a great genius to
discover, were it possible, precisely what changes his political
views underwent. When Sir Robert Walpole essayed to corrupt the
nation Fielding fought strenuously in the cause of political
honour; when a Stewart invasion threatened (as he thought) both
civil liberty and Protestant beliefs he flung himself as zealously
into the defence of the Church of England and of the Hanoverian
Government. It is clear that the latter exertions stirred up much
cheap obliquy; and it must be admitted that such references to his
antagonists as "last weeks Dunghill of Papers" were likely to
entail unsavory retort.</p>

<p>This abuse seems to have broken out with an excess of virulence
not long after the appearance of the <em>Jacobite's Journal</em>; a
fate, as Fielding observes, little to be expected by the editor of
a loyal paper. His dignified protest in the matter is worth
recalling. In a leading article he declares that "before my paper
hath reached the 20th. number a heavier load of Scandal hath been
cast upon me than I believe ever fell to the Share of a Single Man.
The Author of the Journal was soon guessed at; Either from some
Singularity in Style, or from little care which being free from any
wicked Purpose, I have ever taken to conceal my Name. Of this
several Writers were no sooner possessed than they attempted to
blacken it with every kind of Reproach; pursued me into private
Life, <em>even to my boyish Years</em>; where they have given me
almost every Vice in Human Nature. Again they have followed me with
uncommon Inveteracy into a Profession in which they have very
roundly asserted that I have neither Business nor Knowledge: And
lastly, as an Author they have affected to treat me with more
Contempt than Mr. Pope, who hath great Merit and no less Pride in
the Character of a Writer hath thought proper to bestow on the
lowest Scribbler of his Time. All this moreover they have poured
forth in a vein of Scurrility which hath disgraced the Press with
every abusive Term in our Language." Although, as Fielding adds,
those who knew him would not take their opinion from those who knew
him not, it is to be feared that the scurrilous libellers of the
day succeeded in creating a prejudice that is hardly yet dispersed.
For such petty clamours would be trifling enough round the figure
of the creator of the English novel, were it not that in the abuse
of the gutter press of his day we may probably find the reason for
much of the vague cloud which has so strangely overhung Fielding's
name. In his own spirited protest he tells us of the 'ordure' that
was thrown at him; and it is an old saying that if enough mud be
thrown some will stick.</p>

<p>In the February following the appearance of his new paper
Fielding must have been at Twickenham; for the baptism of his son
William appears in the Parish Register for that month. A writer of
thirty years ago says that the house celebrated as that in which
Fielding lived was then still standing, a quaint old fashioned
wooden dwelling, in Back Lane; and adds the information that
Fielding had two rooms, the house being then let in <a name=
"fnref10-7">lodgings</a>. <a class="footnote" href="#fn10-7">7</a>
Lysons, however, in his <em>Environs of London</em>, published in
1795, says that Fielding "rented a house at this time in the
Back-Lane at Twickenham," adding that he received his information
from the Earl of Orford. The site is now occupied by a row of
cottages. In his <em>Parish Register for Twickenham</em> Horace
Walpole commemorates the great novelist's residence in that quiet
village, so full of eighteenth century memories. Here, he says,</p>

<p class="quoted">"... Fielding met his bunter Muse,<br>
 And, as they quaff'd the fiery juice,<br>
 Droll Nature stamp'd each lucky hit<br>
 With unimaginable wit."</p>

<p>Bunter was a cant word for a woman who picks up rags about the
street; and it may seem to later generations that the epithet
fitted far more nicely the <em>bunter muse</em> of that "facile
retailer of <em>ana</em> and incorrigible society-gossip," that
rag-picker of anecdotes, Mr. Horace Walpole himself.</p>

<p>When the <em>Journal</em> had been running some six months,
Fielding formally relinquished his ironic character of a Jacobite,
partly because, as he says, the evils of Jacobitism were too
serious for jesting and required more open denunciation; partly
because the age required more highly seasoned writing, the general
taste in reading very much resembling "that of some particular Man
in eating who would never willingly devour what doth not stink";
and partly from the ineptitude of the public to appreciate the
ironic method. This latter passage is of interest as coming from
the author of that great masterpiece in irony, <em>Jonathan
Wild</em>. Fielding has observed, he tells us that "though Irony is
capable of furnishing the most exquisite Ridicule; yet as there is
no kind of humour so liable to be mistaken it is of all others the
most dangerous to the Writer. An infinite Number of Readers have
not the least taste or relish for it, I believe I may say do not
understand it; and all are apt to be tired when it is carried to
any degree of Length."</p>

<p>The <em>Jacobite's Journal</em> is of course mainly occupied
with maintaining the Protestant British Constitution; but here, as
in the <em>True Patriot</em>, Fielding allows himself a pleasant
running commentary on the daily news. He also erects a <em>Court of
Criticism</em> in which, by virtue of his "high Censorial Office,"
he administers justice in "all matters in the Republic of
Literature." By thus adopting the title of "Censor of Great
Britain" the editor of the <em>Jacobites Journal</em> preserves his
identity with that censorial <em>Champion</em> who nine years
before had essayed to keep rogues in fear of his Hercules' club.
Two judgments delivered by the <em>Court</em> are of interest. In
one, due castigation is given to that incorrigible mimic and wit
Foote, who was once threatened by no less a cudgel than that of Dr.
Johnson himself. Foote was evading all law and order by his
inimitable mimicries at the Little Theatre in the Haymarket; and
for these performances at his "scandal-shop" is very properly
brought up before Mr. Censor's <em>Court</em>. Whereupon Foote
begins to mimic the <em>Court</em> "pulling a Chew of Tobacco from
his Mouth, in Imitation of his Honour who is greatly fond of that
weed." The culprit suffers conviction for crime against law and
good manners. Having thus seen to the public welfare, Fielding also
happily settles a little score of his own on one of his anonymous
libellers. "One Porcupine Pillage," he records, "came into the
court and threw a great shovelful of dirt at his honour, <em>but
luckily none of it hit him</em>." His comments on weekly news items
are no less characteristic than those hidden in the columns of the
<em>Patriot</em>. Thus, on a trotting match, he observes, "Trotting
is a Sport truly adapted to the English Genius." And on a man found
dead in Jewin Street "formerly an eminent Dealer in Buckrams, but
[who] being greatly reduced is supposed to have died for Want," he
notes, "<em>either of Common Sense in himself or Common Humanity in
his Aquaintance</em>." His own humanity is shown in the wise
appeals, repeated on more than one page of the <em>Journal</em>,
for some effective provision for the distressed widows and children
of the poor clergy. And his unbiassed judgment appears in the
<em>amende honorable</em> to Richardson, in the form of generous
and unstinted praise of <em>Clarissa</em>.</p>

<p>The first number of the <em>Jacobite's Journal</em> was dated
Dec. 5, 1747, and 'Mr. Trott Plaid' formally takes leave of his
subject exactly eleven months later, on November 5, 1748, declaring
that Jacobites were, by then, little to be <a name=
"fnref10-8">feared</a>. <a class="footnote" href="#fn10-8">8</a>
Ten days before this last 'brandish' of Fielding's Constitutional
pen, on October 26, 1748, his oaths had been received as a Justice
of the Peace for Westminster.</p>

<h2><a name="chapter11">CHAPTER XI</a><br>
<br>
TOM JONES</h2>

<p class="quoted">"In God's Name let us speak out honestly and set
the good against the bad."<br>
 &nbsp;&nbsp;No. 48 of the <em>Jacobite's Journal.</em></p>

<p>The two years of Fielding's life preceding his appointment as a
Bow Street magistrate (an appointment comparable only to the choice
of Robert Burns as an exciseman) were marked, as we have seen, by
lively passages in the political arena, and a steady output of
political journalism. Indeed, by this time, the public must have
associated swingeing denunciations of Jacobites, and glowing
eulogies of the British Constitution, with Harry Fielding's name;
just as seven years previously he had been in their eyes the
'Champion' journalist of a brilliant Opposition; and, for ten years
before that, the witty writer of a stream of popular farces and
comedies. For there is no evidence that his audacious innovation,
his splendid adventure in literature, <em>Joseph Andrews</em>,
really revealed the existence of a new genius in their midst to the
Whigs and Tories of those factious days, to the gay frequenters of
the play-house, to the barristers at Westminster Hall and on the
Western Circuit. In 1748 Fielding must have been, to his many
audiences, a witty and well-born man of letters who, at forty-one,
had as yet achieved no towering success; a facile dramatist; and a
master of slashing political invective, growing perplexingly
impartial, alike in his praise and his condemnation. While, as
regards outward circumstances, the struggling barrister, baffled in
his professional hopes by persistent attacks of gout, was now so
far enlisted, to use his own fine image, under the black banner of
poverty, that even the small post and hard duties of a Bow Street
magistrate were worth his <a name="fnref11-1">acceptance</a>. <a
class="footnote" href="#fn11-1">1</a></p>

<p>Such was Harry Fielding as the world of 1748 knew him, in the
Coffee houses, the Mall, the Green-room and the Law-courts. What
that world did not know was that all this dramatic, journalistic,
and political action, was little more than the surface movement of
a vitality far too exuberant to be contained in any one groove of
hackney writing,--of an impetuous 'enthusiasm for righteousness'
far too ardent to pass by any flagrant social, moral, or political
abuse without inflicting some form of chastisement; and that
beneath this ever active surface movement Fielding's genius was
slowly maturing in that new continent of literature the borders of
which he had already crossed seven years before. In the pages of
<em>Joseph Andrews</em>, he had, as we know, tentatively explored
that continent feeling his way along the unknown paths of this long
neglected world of human nature; bringing back with him one
immortal figure, that living embodiment of simple piety and
scholarship, of charity and honest strength, Parson Adams;
disclosing hints of discoveries, not yet perfected, among the
humours and villanies, the virtues and charms, of a dozen other
inhabitants of his <em>terra incognita</em>. But there is no sign
that the greatness of his discovery, the splendour of his addition
to the empire of English literature, was in the least apprehended
during the seven years following the appearance of <em>Joseph
Andrews</em>. Only Fielding himself was conscious that he had
created a kind of writing "hitherto unattempted in our
language."</p>

<p>And, having crossed the borders of this new continent, he seems,
after his first survey, to have deliberately immersed himself in
one portion, and that the blackest, of his re-discovered world. For
<em>Jonathan Wild</em>, with its disclosure of the active spirit of
'diabolism,' of naked vice, is little else than the exploration of
those darkest recesses of human nature which can be safely entered
only by the sanest and healthiest of intellects. Fielding's
strength was equal to his exploit; and from this, his second
adventure, he brought back a picture of the deformity and folly of
vice, drawn with a just and penetrating scorn unequalled, perhaps,
by any English moralist. But neither of these two essays in the new
field of writing had covered more than isolated or outlying
portions, the first in sunlight, the second in shadow, of that vast
territory. And it was not till the perfect maturity of his powers
and of his experience, not till he had seen both the 'manners of
many men,' and the workings of many hearts, not in a word till he
had made himself master of great tracts of that human nature which
had so long lain neglected, that Fielding in <em>Tom Jones</em>
disclosed himself as the creator of the English novel.</p>

<p>Little is known as to when the conception of <em>Tom Jones</em>
first shaped itself in his mind, of where he lived during the
writing of the great Comic Epic, or of the time occupied in its
completion. Appropriately for a book expressly designed "to
recommend goodness and innocence" the plan of the novel was
suggested, many years before its appearance, by the 'good Lord
Lyttelton'; and we know, further, that the writing occupied 'some
thousands of hours'; but <em>Tom Jones</em> does not emerge into
definite existence till the summer of 1748.</p>

<p>Legend it is true, attesting to the greatness of the achievement
contained in the six little volumes, endows many localities with
the fame of their origin. A well-credited contemporary writer, the
Rev. Richard Graves, declared that the novelist "while he was
writing his novel of Tom Jones" lived at Tiverton (Twerton), one
and a half miles from Bath, and dined daily at Prior Park the seat
of his munificent and pious friend Ralph Allen. Mr Graves says that
Fielding then lived in "the first house on the right hand with a
spread eagle over the <a name="fnref11-2">door</a>." <a class=
"footnote" href="#fn11-2">2</a> Salisbury is insistent that part at
least of the great novel was written at Milford House, near to that
city. An anonymous old engraver asserts the same honour for
Fielding's Farm at East Stour, an assertion certainly not confirmed
by the newly found documents concerning Fielding's sale of property
at Stour in 1738. Twickenham claims that the book was wholly
composed in the house in Back Lane. And to an ancient building at
Tintern Parva in the Wye Valley, said to have once been the lodging
of the Abbot of Tintern, was also assigned the reputation of being
the birthplace of the English novel. If the latter tradition were
true, the fact that it was in the Harlequin chamber of the Abbots
of Glastonbury that Henry Fielding was born, becomes strangely
matched by the birth, some forty years later, of his masterpiece,
in the lodging of the Abbot of Tintern. The one point of real
interest in all these traditions is the fact that the fame of
<em>Tom Jones</em> has been sufficient to create a widespread
popular legend. The truth probably is that the book was written in
the many shifting scenes of Fielding's life during these years; now
at Bath whither his gout and the generous hospitality of Ralph
Allen would take him; now in Salisbury, the home of his boyhood,
and the scene of his courtship with the lovely original of Sophia
Western; possibly in his own county of Somerset; and most probably
both at Twickenham, and in London.</p>

<p class="centered"><a name="i357"><img src="images/357.jpg" alt=
"Prior Park, near Bath, the seat of Ralph Allen, 1750" width="700"
height="476"></a></p>

<p>From these various legends it is pleasant to be able to
disentangle one clear picture of the making of <em>Tom Jones</em>.
Before the manuscript was placed in the printers' hands Fielding
submitted it to the opinion both of the elder Pitt, and of the
estimable and pious Lyttelton; and the account of this memorable
meeting cannot be better given than in the words of a descendant of
the hostess on that occasion, the Rev. George Miller,
great-grandson of that Sanderson Miller of Radway, Warwickshire,
who numbered many men of note among his acquaintance, and with whom
Fielding was on terms of intimate <a name=
"fnref11-3">friendship</a>. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fn11-3">3</a> Writing to the present writer, in 1907, Mr. Miller
says: "Lord Chatham and Lord Lyttleton came to Radway to visit my
ancestor, when Lord Chatham planted three trees to commemorate the
visit, and a stone urn was placed between them. Fielding was also
of the party and read 'Tom Jones' in manuscript after dinner for
the opinion of his hearers before publishing it. My father told me
this often and he had the account from his Grandmother who survived
her husband several years and who was the hostess on the occasion."
Unhappily no record exists of the comments of one of the greatest
of English statesmen when listening to this reading, in manuscript,
of indubitably one of the greatest of English novels.</p>

<p>The vagueness which hangs over the places in which <em>Tom
Jones</em> was written, the certainty that in all of them poverty
was constantly present, is in perfect accord with the power of
detachment manifested in this book from circumstances that would
surely have tinged, if not over-whelmed, a weaker genius. Sickness
and poverty are stern sponsors; but neither were suffered to leave
more than two traces on the pages destined to outlive so greatly
the harsh circumstances in which they had birth. There is the frank
acknowledgement of the writer's dependence on Lyttelton's noble
generosity, without which the book had never, Fielding says, been
completed, since "I partly owe to you my Existence during great
Part of the Time which I have employed in composing it." And a
touching betrayal occurs of his anxiety for the future provision of
the "prattling babes, whose innocent play hath often been
interrupted by my labours." Fielding was sensitively anxious for
his wife and children; but, for himself, living as he did with
visions such as that of the <em>Invocation</em> introducing Book
xiii of <em>Tom Jones</em>, the precise situation of his "little
Parlour," or the poorness of its furniture, cannot have appeared
very material. "Come bright Love of Fame," he cries "... fill my
ravished Fancy with the Hopes of charming Ages yet to come ... Do
thou teach me not only to foresee, but to enjoy, nay, even to feed
on future Praise. Comfort me by a solemn Assurance, that when the
little Parlour in which I sit at this Instant, shall be reduced to
a worse furnished Box, I shall be read, with Honour, by those who
never knew nor saw me, and whom I shall neither know nor see."</p>

<p>This capacity of Fielding for relegating circumstance to its
true level, the detached idealism that moulded his genius, are,
indeed, shown once for all in the fact that the exquisite picture
of virtue, the whole-hearted attack on vice, the genial humour, the
sunny portraits of humanity, the splendid cheerfulness of <em>Tom
Jones</em>, that 'Epic of Youth,' came from a man in middle age,
immersed in disheartening struggles, and fighting recurrent ill
health. Superficial critics have called Fielding a realist because
his figures are so full-blooded and alive that we feel we have met
them but yesterday in the street; to eyes so shortsighted life
itself must seem merely realistic. As none but an idealist could
have conceived Parson Adams, so the creator of Sophia again
announced himself an idealist in the Dedication of <em>Tom
Jones</em>. Here, in language of pure symbolism, he contends that
the ideal virtues such as goodness and innocence, may most
effectively be presented to men in a figure, 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
<em>Plato</em> asserts there is in her naked <a name=
"fnref11-4">Charms</a>." <a class="footnote" href="#fn11-4">4</a>
To the man who could write thus, and, who, in later pages of his
great 'Epic,' could humbly desire of Genius "do thou kindly take me
by the Hand, and lead me through all the Mazes, the winding
Labyrinth of Nature. Initiate me into all those Mysteries which
profane Eyes never beheld,"--to this man the material surroundings
of life must have seemed of little greater import than the fittings
of that narrow box to the occupation of which he looked forward
with so calm a foresight. Indeed he himself acknowledges a
carelessness of outward comfort on his own behalf. "Come," he
cries, to the spirit of mercenary success, "Thou jolly Substance,
with thy shining Face, ... hold forth thy tempting Rewards; thy
shining chinking Heap; thy quickly-convertible Bank-bill, big with
unseen Riches; thy often-varying Stock; the warm, the comfortable
House; ... Come thou, and if I am too tasteless of thy valuable
Treasures, warm my Heart with the transporting Thought of conveying
them to others." His happy constitution, wrote his cousin Lady
Mary, "made him forget everything when he was before a venison
pasty or a flask of champagne"; but behind those healthy
exhilarations was, assuredly, a serenity based on a clear
perception of the values of life. To a man of Fielding's happy
social temperament, and who was yet also initiated into mysteries
and occupied in converting ideal loveliness into 'an object of
sight,' such matters as duns and pawnbrokers would seem precisely
fit for oblivion in venison and champagne. In the creator of Tom
Jones and of Sophia the most indestructible delight in living, and
the keenest discernment of the unsubstantial qualities of that
delight, appear to have been admirably interwoven.</p>

<p>By June 11, 1748, the book was far enough advanced for the
publisher, Andrew Millar, to pay £600 for it, as appears from a
receipt now in the possession of Mr. Alfred <a name=
"fnref11-5">Huth</a>. <a class="footnote" href="#fn11-5">5</a> And
it is eminently characteristic of the finances of a man who, as
Lady Mary said, would have wanted money had his estates been as
extensive as his imagination, that the receipt for this £600 is
dated more than six months before the publication of the book. For
it was not till February 28, 1749, that the <em>General
Advertiser</em> announced</p>

<p class="quoted">This day is published, in six vols., 12 mo<br>
 THE HISTORY OF TOM JONES,<br>
 A FOUNDLING<br>
 <em>Mores hominum multorum vidit</em>.<br>
 <em>By</em> HENRY FIELDING, <em>Esqre</em></p>

<p>Henceforth Fielding ceases to be the boisterous politician, the
witty dramatist; his poverty and his struggles for subsistence fall
back, at his own bidding, among the accidents of life; and he
stands revealed as the supreme genius, the creator of the English
novel, the inheritor of that lasting fame which he had dared so
confidently to invoke.</p>

<p>The immediate success of the book, in that eighteenth-century
world into which it was launched, is attested by the notice in the
<em>London Magazine</em> of the very month of its publication.
Under the heading of a "Plan of a late celebrated NOVEL," the
<em>Magazine</em> devotes its five opening pages to a summary of a
book "which has given great Amusement and we hope Instruction to
the polite Part of the Town." The summary is preceded by a
description of <em>Tom Jones</em> as a novel "calculated to
recommend religion and virtue, to shew the bad consequences of
indiscretion, and to set several kinds of vice in their most
deformed and shocking light." The reviewer declares that "after one
has begun to read it, it is difficult to leave off before having
read the whole." And he concludes, "Thus ends this pretty novel,
with a most just distribution of rewards and punishments, according
to the merits of all the persons who had any considerable share in
<a name="fnref11-6">it</a>." <a class="footnote" href=
"#fn11-6">6</a> Three months later Horace Walpole wrote, "Millar
the bookseller has done very generously by him [Fielding]: finding
Tom Jones, for which he had given him £600, sell so greatly, he has
since given him another hundred." An admirer breaks out into rhyme,
in the <em>Gentleman's Magazine</em> for August 1749,--</p>

<p class="quoted">"let Fielding take the pen!<br>
 Life dropt her mask, and all mankind were men."</p>

<p>thereby anticipating Thackeray's famous complaint that in his
day no one dared "to depict to his utmost power a Man." Lady
Bradshaigh, writing by a happy irony of fate to Richardson, says
"as to Tom Jones I am fatigued with the name, having lately fallen
into the company of several young ladies, who had each a 'Tom
Jones' in some part of the world, for so they call their
favourites." The gentlemen also had their Sophias, one indeed
having bestowed that all-popular name on his 'Dutch mastiff puppy.'
That eccentric eighteenth century philosopher, and enthusiastic
Greek scholar, Lord Monboddo declared that <em>Tom Jones</em> had
more of character in it than any other work, ancient or modern,
known to him, adding, "in short, I never saw anything that was so
animated, and as I may say, <em>all alive</em> with characters and
manners as <em>the History of Tom Jones</em>"; a criticism that
recalls Lady Mary Wortley Montagu's remark that no man enjoyed life
more than did Fielding. Doubtless it was his own magnificent
capacity for living that endowed the very creatures of his pen with
so abundant a vitality. In her own copy Lady Mary wrote <em>Ne plus
Ultra</em>.</p>

<p class="centered"><a name="i358"><img src="images/358.jpg" alt=
"Lady Mary Wortley Montagu--1710" width="377" height="500"></a></p>

<p>To turn from the popular voices of the day to the comments of
those capable of appraising genius, "What a master of composition
Fielding was!" exclaimed Coleridge, "Upon my word I think 'Oedipus
Tyrannus,' the 'Alchemist,' and 'Tom Jones' the three most perfect
plots ever planned." To Sir Walter Scott <em>Tom Jones</em> was
"truth and human nature itself." Gibbon described the book as "the
first of ancient or modern romances"; and, as we have seen,
declared that its pages would outlive the Imperial Eagle of those
Hapsburgs from whom Fielding was said to be descended. "There can
be no gainsaying the sentence of this great judge," wrote
Thackeray. "To have your name mentioned by Gibbon is like having it
written on the dome of St Peter's. Pilgrims from all the world
admire and behold it." Pilgrims from all the world have likewise
admired <em>Tom Jones</em>. Translations have appeared in French,
<a name="fnref11-7">German</a>, <a class="footnote" href=
"#fn11-7">7</a> Spanish, Swedish, Russian, Polish and Dutch; and as
for the English editions, they range from the three editions issued
within the year of publication to the several noble volumes newly
edited in our own day, and the sixpenny copies on our railway
bookstalls. So fully has time justified the invocation to future
fame sent forth from the little ill-furnished parlour of the
struggling barrister.</p>

<p>To analyse the grounds for a chorus of praise ranging from the
'young ladies' of the eighteenth century to the utterances of
distinguished critics, and popular authors of our own day, would be
to confound literary criticism with biography. But there are some
points appertaining to Fielding's great novel which cannot be here
disregarded, in that they closely affect his personal character.
Such are the light in which he himself regarded his masterpiece,
the intention with which he wrote it, and the means which he
selected to carry that intention into effect.</p>

<p>All these he himself very plainly sets forth in his
<em>Dedication</em> to Lyttelton and in other passages of <em>Tom
Jones</em>. As to his intention. "I declare," he says, in the
<em>Dedication</em>, "that to recommend Goodness and Innocence hath
been my sincere Endeavour in this History." And the means selected
for this end, and for the companion object of persuading men from
guilt, are as clearly stated. First as we have seen, Fielding plays
the part of pure idealist, purposing to create a picture "in which
virtue becomes as it were an object of sight." For such pictures we
have but to think of Sophia Western, and of that final page of
<em>Tom Jones</em>, than which no more charming representation of
mutual affection, esteem, and well doing can be imagined. But
besides this means of reaching his audience Fielding adopted, he
tells us, a second method. He argues that no acquisitions of guilt
can compensate a man for the loss of inward peace, for the
attendant horror, anxiety, and danger, to which he subjects
himself; thus endeavouring to enlist man's self-interest no less
than his admiration, on the side of virtue. Again, he explains yet
another method by which he essays to foil the progress of evil,
viz. to show that virtue and innocence are chiefly betrayed "into
the snares that deceit and villainy spread for them" by
indiscretion; a moral which he has "the more industriously laboured
... since I believe it is much easier to make good Men, wise than
to make bad Men good." For this purpose, he concludes, namely to
show, as in a figure, the beauty of virtue, to persuade men that in
following innocence and virtue they follow their own obvious
interests, to arm them from the snares of villainy and deceit, "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."</p>

<p>And, conscious that wit and humour require a rein quite unneeded
by the methods of the professional moralist, Fielding further
asserts that in these pages his laughter is worthy of the aim which
he sets before him. Here, he carefully insists, are wit and humour
wholly void of offence. He assures his reader that in the whole
course of the work, he will find "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." As the almost incredible change from the manners of 1749
to those of the following century, and of our own day, has
injuriously affected the reputation of Fielding among readers
ignorant of past conditions, this protest, in striking accord with
the prologue for his first play acted when he was but a lad of
twenty, cannot be too emphatically recorded. And no further
justification of Fielding's words need be entered than that verdict
of the eighteenth century scholar and bishop of the English Church,
Doctor Warburton, when he declared that "Mr. Fielding [stands] the
foremost among those who have given a faithful and chaste copy of
life and manners."</p>

<p>Such were the noble purposes to which Fielding consciously
dedicated his genius in <em>Tom Jones,</em> and such was the
careful restraint with which he exercised his chosen methods of wit
and humour. That these purposes, executed by a supreme genius in
the language and scenes of his own day, should ever have laid their
author open to a charge of immorality is perhaps one of the most
amazing pieces of irony in the whole history of English literature.
But as this charge of moral laxity has been seriously brought
against the pages of <em>Tom Jones</em>, and is perhaps not yet
quite exploded, it cannot be wholly disregarded. The imputation
amounts, briefly, to a too easy forgiveness for the youthful sins
of Jones, and the involving that engaging youth in too deep a
degradation. The answers to these charges are, firstly, that
Fielding held strongly, and here exhibits, the humane and wise
doctrine that a man should be judged, not by what he sometimes
does, but by what he <em>is</em>. And, secondly, that as Sir Walter
Scott pointed out, when dealing with this very matter, "the vices
into which Jones suffers himself to fall are made the direct cause
of placing him in the distressful situation which he occupies
during the greater part of the narrative; while his generosity, his
charity, and his amiable qualities become the means of saving him
from the consequences of his folly." Fielding was not wholly
concerned with the acts of a man; to him the admission of the
Penitent Thief into Paradise, at the eleventh hour, could have been
no stumbling block. And, further, Tom Jones not only suffers for
his ill doing, but wins no heaven until he wholly purges himself
from the sin which did so easily beset him.</p>

<p>The distinction between doing and being is very fully enunciated
by Fielding himself, in the <em>Introduction</em> to Book vii. "A
single bad Act," he says, "no more constitutes a Villain in Life,
than a single bad Part on the Stage". And again, "Now we, who are
admitted behind the Scenes of this great Theatre of Nature, (and no
Author ought to write any Thing besides Dictionaries and
Spelling-Books who hath not this Privilege) can censure the Action,
without conceiving any actual Detestation of the Person, whom
perhaps Nature may not have designed to act an ill Part in all her
Dramas: For in this Instance, Life most exactly represents the
Stage, since it is often the same Person who represents the Villain
and the Heroe". Coleridge has expressed the same truth in words
written in a copy of <em>Tom Jones</em>, "If I want a servant or
mechanic I wish to know what he <em>does</em>--but of a Friend I
must know what he <em>is</em>. And in no writer is this momentous
distinction so finely brought forward as by Fielding. We do not
care what Blifil does ... but Blifil <em>is</em> a villain and we
feel him to be <a name="fnref11-8">so</a>." <a class="footnote"
href="#fn11-8">8</a></p>

<p>It is true that, as Scott regrets the depth of degradation into
which Tom Jones is suffered to fall, so Coleridge expresses a wish,
"relatively to Fielding himself" that the great novelist had
emphasised somewhat more the repentance of his hero: but this may
be balanced by that other noble tribute to his morality, "I dare
believe who consulted his heart and conscience only without
adverting to <em>what the world</em> would say could rise from the
perusal of Fielding's <em>Tom Jones</em>, <em>Joseph Andrews</em>
and <em>Amelia</em> without feeling himself the better man--at
least without an intense conviction that he could not be guilty of
a base <a name="fnref11-9">act</a>." <a class="footnote" href=
"#fn11-9">9</a> To be forced to watch the temporary degradation of
a noble nature, and the miseries ensuing, is surely one of the most
effective means of rousing a hatred of vice. That such an
exhibition should ever have been construed into moral laxity on the
part of the author, especially when the restoration of the hero's
character is drawn as entirely due to his ingrained worship of
innocence and virtue, is almost incredible.</p>

<p class="centered"><a name="i359"><img src="images/359.jpg" alt=
"George, First Baron Lyttelton" width="346" height="500"></a></p>

<p>In exact accordance with Fielding's character as moralist in
intent, although supreme artist in execution, is the fact of the
dedication of <em>Tom Jones</em> to his life-long friend Lyttelton.
George Lyttelton, statesman, scholar, and orator, was a friend of
whom any man might be proud. It was said of him that he "showed the
judgment of a minister, the force and wit of an orator, and the
spirit of a gentleman." As theologian he wrote a treatise on
<em>The Conversion of St. Paul</em> which, a hundred years later,
was described as being "still regarded as one of the subsidiary
bulwarks of Christianity." As poet he won the praise of Gray for
his tender and elegiac verse. Thomson sang of his "sense refined,"
and adds</p>

<p class="quoted">Serene yet warm, humane yet firm his mind<br>
 As little touch'd as any man's with bad;</p>

<p>And Pope drew his character as</p>

<p class="quoted">"Still true to virtue and as warm as true."</p>

<p>It was to this devout scholar, this refined gentleman, this
warm-hearted follower of virtue, that <em>Tom Jones</em> was
dedicated, nay more, to him it owed both origin and completion. "To
you, Sir," Fielding writes in his <em>Dedication</em>, "it is owing
that this History was ever begun. It was by your Desire that I
first thought of such a Composition.... Again, Sir, without your
Assistance this History had never been completed.... I partly owe
to you my Existence during great Part of the Time in which I have
employed in composing it." And that Lyttelton cordially approved
the book which owed so much to his own insight and generosity is
evident from the references, in the <em>Dedication</em>, to his
favourable judgment.</p>

<p>With the appearance of <em>Tom Jones</em> Fielding steps into
his own place among the immortals. But lofty as his genius was, his
feet were firmly planted in the world which he relished so keenly.
To no man could be applied more happily the motto chosen by him for
his title page, <em>mores hominum multorum vidit</em>--he saw the
manners of many men. This characteristic emerges in a personal
reminiscence of the novelist, at the very moment when the sheets of
<em>Tom Jones</em> were passing through the press. The great-nephew
of his intimate friend Mrs Hussey relates; "Henry Fielding was fond
of colouring his pictures of life with the glowing and variegated
tints of Nature, by conversing with persons of every situation and
calling, as I have frequently been informed by one of my great
aunts, the late Mrs Hussey, who knew him intimately. I have heard
her say, that Mr Fielding never suffered his talent for sprightly
conversation to mildew for a moment; and that his manners were so
gentlemanly, that even with the lower classes, with which he
frequently condescended particularly to chat such as Sir Roger de
Coverley's old friends, the Vauxhall water-men, they seldom
outstepped the limits of propriety. My aunt ... [was] a fashionable
sacque and mantua-maker, and lived in the Strand, ... One day Mr
Fielding observed to Mrs Hussey, that he was then engaged in
writing a novel, which he thought would be his best production; and
that he intended to introduce into it the characters of all his
friends. Mrs Hussey, with a smile, ventured to remark, that he must
have many niches, and that surely they must already be filled. 'I
assure you, my dear madam,' replied he, 'there shall be a bracket
for a bust of you.' Some time after this, he informed Mrs Hussey
that the work was in the press; but, immediately recollecting that
he had forgotten his promise to her, went to the printer, and was
time enough to insert, in vol. iii. p. 17, where he speaks of the
shape of Sophia Western--'Such charms are there in affability, and
so sure is it to attract the praises of all kinds of people.... It
may indeed be compared to the celebrated Mrs Hussey.' To which
observation he has given the following note: 'A celebrated
mantua-maker in the Strand, famous for setting off the shapes of <a
name="fnref11-10">women</a>.'" <a class="footnote" href=
"#fn11-10">10</a></p>

<p>Here is yet further proof, that Fielding loved not only to see
the manners of many men, but also to render them whatever service
lay within his power. Never were the warmest heart and the loftiest
genius more happily united than in the creator of the English
novel.</p>

<p>Lyttelton not only suggested and approved the great Comic Epic,
and enabled distressed genius to live while composing it; his own
worth and benevolence, together with those of the generous Allen,
afforded Fielding, as he tells us, the materials for the picture
here presented of Allworthy. "The World," he says, speaking of this
picture, "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." And a point of still closer personal interest is the
fact, already noticed, that in the lovely character and person of
Sophia Western, Fielding raised an enduring memorial to that
beloved wife whose death had occurred a few years before the
publication of <em>Tom Jones</em>. The authenticity of the portrait
is explicitly stated in the <em>Invocation</em> prefixed to Book
xiii. Apostrophizing that 'gentle Maid,' bright 'Love of Fame,'
Fielding bids her, in the eighteenth century phrase that falls so
strangely on a modern ear, "Foretell me that some tender Maid,
whose Grandmother is yet unborn, hereafter, when under the
fictitious Name of <em>Sophia</em> she reads the real worth which
once existed in my <em>Charlotte</em>, shall, from her sympathetic
Breast, send forth the <em>Heaving Sigh.</em>" Then follows,
immediately, his own desire that he too may live in the knowledge
and honour of far distant readers. Fielding lies buried under
southern skies, far from his wife's English grave; but in the
immortal pages of his masterpiece they are not divided.</p>

<h2><a name="chapter12">CHAPTER XII</a><br>
<br>
MR JUSTICE FIELDING</h2>

<p class="quoted">"The principal Duty which every Man owes is to
his Country."<br>
 <em>Enquiry into the ... Increase of Robbers</em>.</p>

<p>To have created the English novel were, it might seem,
achievement enough to tire for a while the most vigorous of
intellects; but to the author of <em>Tom Jones</em> the apathy of
repose was unknown. At no period of Fielding's short life can he be
discerned as doing nothing; and, indeed, to an insight so
penetrating, to an ardour so irrepressible, the England of George
the Second can have afforded but very little inducement to
inaction.</p>

<p>Thus, in the one month of October 1748, the pages of <em>Tom
Jones</em> must have been nearing completion, if indeed the sheets
were not already passing through the press. The Hanoverian
philippics of "Mr Trott-Plaid" were still resounding in the
<em>Jacobite's Journal</em>. While, on the 26th. of the month,
Fielding's oaths were received for an entirely new rôle, that of a
Justice of the Peace for <a name="fnref12-1">Westminster</a>. <a
class="footnote" href="#fn12-1">1</a> Ten days later the
<em>Jacobite's Journal</em> had ceased to exist; and that a rumour
was abroad connecting this demise of the <em>Journal</em> with the
bestowal of a new and arduous post on its editor appears from a
paragraph in the <em>London Evening Post</em>. On Nov. 8, that
organ prepares its readers for the fact that the now defunct "Mr
Trott-Plaid" may possibly "rise awful in the Form of a Justice."
Within four weeks of this announcement 'Justice Fielding's' name
appears for the first time in the Police-news of the day, in a
committal dated December <a name="fnref12-2">10th</a> <a class=
"footnote" href="#fn12-2">2</a> . And two days later he is sending
three thieves to the Gatehouse, and admitting a suspected thief to
bail, "after an Examination which lasted several hours." And it is
interesting to notice that throughout this first month of his
magisterial work the now 'awful form' of Justice Henry Fielding was
kept constantly tempered in the public mind by the fact of his
still undiminished popularity as a dramatist. In this December his
comedies, with the inimitable 'romp' Kitty Clive as <em>Miss
Lucy</em>, or the <em>Intrigueing Chambermaid</em> or
<em>Chloe</em>, as the case might be, were played no fewer than
nine times on the Drury Lane boards.</p>

<p>Scarcely had Fielding bent his genius to these new
responsibilities of examining Westminster suspects and sending the
rogues of that city to prison, than he appears preparing for an
extension of those duties over the county of Middlesex. To be a
county magistrate in 1750, however, necessitated the holding of
landed estate worth £100 per annum; and Fielding's estate, for many
years, seems to have been his pen. In this difficulty he turned to
the Duke of Bedford, whose public virtues, and private generosity,
were so soon to be acknowledged in the Dedication of <em>Tom
Jones</em>. It was but three weeks after his appointment that the
Westminster magistrate wrote as follows to the giver of those
"princely Benefactions":</p>

<p><br>
</p>

<p>"Bow Street. Decr. 13. 1748.</p>

<p>"My Lord,</p>

<p>"Such is my Dependence on the Goodness of your Grace, that
before my Gout will permit me to pay my Duty to you personally, and
to acknowledge your last kind Favour to me, I have the Presumption
to solicite your Grace again. The Business of a Justice of Peace
for Westminster is very inconsiderable without the Addition of that
for the County of Middlesex. And without this Addition I cannot
completely serve the Government in that office. But this
unfortunately requires a Qualification which I want. Now there is a
House belonging to your Grace, which stands in Bedford St., of 70l.
a year value. This hath been long untenanted, and will I am
informed, require about 300l. to put in Repair. If your Grace would
have the Goodness to let me have a Lease of this House, with some
other Tenement worth 30l. a year, for 21 years, it would be a
complete Qualification. I will give the full Worth for this lease,
according to the valuation which any Person your Grace shall be
pleased to appoint sets upon it. The only favour I beg of your
Grace is, that I be permitted to pay the Money in two years, at
four equal half-yearly Payments. As I shall repair the House as
soon as possible, it will be in Reality an Improvement of that
small Part of your Grace's estate, and will be certain to make my
Fortune.</p>

<p>"Mr Butcher will acquaint your Grace more fully than perhaps I
have been able to do; and if Your Grace thinks proper to refer it
to him, I and mine will be eternally bound to pray for your Grace
tho I sincerely hope you will not lose a Farthing by doing so vast
a service to,</p>

<p>"My Lord your Grace's<br>
"Most obliged most obed' humble servant<br>
"H. <a name="fnref12-3">Ffielding</a>." <a class="footnote" href=
"#fn12-3">3</a></p>

<p>It seems probable that the Duke found better means of helping
wit and genius, than by the leasing of the dilapidated tenement in
Bedford Street. At any rate a month later, on January 11, we find
Fielding duly swearing to an estate as consisting of "several
Leasehold Messuages or Tenements Lying or being in the several
parishes of St Paul Covent Garden, St Martin in the ffields, St
Giles in the ffields, and St Georges Bloomsbury ... now in the
possession or occupation of [my] Tennants or Undertennants, for and
during the Term of Twenty one years of the clear yearly value of
£100...." This statement, which is preserved in the Middlesex
Records, is followed by Fielding's signature, appended to an oath
that his qualification to serve as a Justice of the Peace for the
county is as above <a name="fnref12-4">described</a>. <a class=
"footnote" href="#fn12-4">4</a></p>

<p>On the day following this sworn statement, January 12, 1749, his
oaths were received as a Justice of the Peace for <a name=
"fnref12-5">Middlesex</a>. <a class="footnote" href="#fn12-5">5</a>
But even this did not satisfy all the requirements of those days of
doctrinal inquisitions and Jacobite risings. The certificate may
still be seen among the Middlesex Records, duly certified by
Charles Tough, Minister of the Parish and Church of St Pauls,
Covent Garden, and 'Sworn in Court,' that "Henry Fielding Esq. on
Sunday the 26th day of March, 1749, did receive the Sacrament of
the Lord's Supper in ye Parish Church aforesaid, immediately after
Divine Service and Sermon, according to the usage of the Church of
<a name="fnref12-6">England</a>." <a class="footnote" href=
"#fn12-6">6</a> And among the same archives the dusty <em>Oath
Roll</em> is preserved, bearing, under date of April 5, 1749, the
signature of <em>Henry ffielding</em> to a declaration of disbelief
in the doctrine of Transubstantiation; a comprehensive oath of
faithful service to King George and abjuration of King James; an
oath directed against the power of the Holy See; and an oath of
true allegiance to King George. All which oaths and declarations,
it appears from the endorsement of the <em>Roll</em>, were taken
immediately after the administration of Holy Communion, as attested
by two credible <a name="fnref12-7">witnesses</a>. <a class=
"footnote" href="#fn12-7">7</a></p>

<p class="centered"><a name="i360"><img src="images/360.jpg" alt=
"The Bow Street Police Court, Sir John Fielding presiding" width=
"291" height="500"></a></p>

<p>It is with this second Commission in the Peace that we enter on
the last five years of Fielding's crowded life, years full of that
valiant struggle with eighteenth century crime to which the health
of the great novelist was ultimately sacrificed. For no magistrate
ever fulfilled more faithfully, or at greater personal cost, the
first obligation of his Oath, "Ye shall swear that as Justice of
Peace ... ye shall do equall right to the Poor and to the Rich,
after your Cunning Witt and Power and after the Laws and Customes
of the Realm...." And Fielding brought to his new post something
more than a zealous discharge of the daily and nightly duties of an
eighteenth century police magistrate. His genius and his patriotism
found opportunity in the squalid Bow Street Court-room for
advocating reforms as yet untouched by the slow hand of the
professional philanthropist. The names of those reformers, of the
men and women who swept away the pestilential horrors of eighteenth
century prisons, of the statesmen who abolished laws that hung a
man for stealing a handkerchief, and destroyed the public gallows
that gave the mob their <em>Tyburn holiday</em>, of the creators of
our temperance legislation, of our poor-law system, of our model
dwellings,--all these are held high in honour. Because Henry
Fielding was above all things a great creative genius his wise and
strenuous efforts to raise social conditions, and to eradicate
social sores, have been unduly forgotten.</p>

<p>"Whatever he desired, he desired ardently," says Murphy. We soon
have evidence of Justice Henry Fielding's ardent desire to cleanse
London from some of the crying evils of his time. Of these evils
none pressed more cruelly on the honest citizens than the
prevalence and brutality of street robberies. To the well-protected
Englishman of to-day the London of 1750 would seem a nightmare of
lawlessness. Thieves, as Fielding tells us, attacked their victims
with loaded pistols, beat them with bludgeons and hacked them with
cutlasses; and as to the murderers of the period, he has recorded
how he himself was engaged on <em>five</em> different murders, all
committed by different gangs of street robbers within the space of
one week. The exploit of one such gang may be quoted, from a
newspaper paragraph of the first month of Fielding's administration
at Bow Street. "On Friday evening," says the <em>General
Advertiser</em> for January 23, 1749, "about twenty fellows arm'd
with Pistols, Cutlasses, Hangers, &amp;c. went to the Gatehouse and
one of them knocking at the Door, it was no sooner open'd than they
all rush'd in, and struck and desperately wounded the Turnkey, and
all that oppos'd them, and in Triumph carried off the Fellow who
pick'd General Sinclaire's pocket of his watch as he was going into
Leicester House." Surely, cries the indignant newspaper, "this
instance of Daring Impudence must rouse every Person of Property to
assemble and consult means for their own Security at least; for if
Goals can be forc'd in this manner, private Houses can make but
little resistance against such Gangs of Villains as at present
infest this Great Metropolis." It was admitted that the numbers and
arms of street robbers rendered it ordinarily impossible to arrest
them in the act; and Fielding tells us how "Officers of Justice
have owned to me that they have passed by [men] with Warrants in
their Pockets against them without daring to apprehend them; and
indeed they could not be blamed for not exposing themselves to sure
Destruction: For it is a melancholy Truth, that at this very Day a
Rogue no sooner gives the Alarm within certain Purlieus, than
twenty or thirty armed Villains are found ready to come to his
Assistance." And the new Justice found no effectual means at his
disposal for coping with what he very aptly calls the enslaved
condition of Londoners, assaulted, pillaged, and plundered; unable
to sleep in their own houses, or to walk the streets, or to travel
in safety. There were the Watch, who, we learn from <em>Amelia</em>
were "chosen out of those poor old decrepid People, who are from
their Want of bodily Strength rendered incapable of getting a
Livelihood by Work. These Men, armed only with a Pole, which some
of them are scarce able to lift, are to secure the Persons and
Houses of his Majesty's Subjects from the Attacks of Gangs of
young, bold, stout, desperate and well-armed Villains.... If the
poor old Fellows should run away from such Enemies, no one I think
can wonder, unless he should wonder that they are able even to make
their <a name="fnref12-8">Escape</a>." <a class="footnote" href=
"#fn12-8">8</a> These lineal descendants of Dogberry were
supplemented by constables who it appears had to apply to the
military when called upon to cope with the mere suppression of a
gaming-house; and by "Thief-catchers," individuals so popularly
odious that "the Thief-catcher is in Danger of worse Treatment from
the Populace than the Thief." While the law was thus handicapped,
the thief, on his side, had the advantage of the irregular
buildings and the immense number of lanes, alleys, courts, and
bye-places of London and Westminster, which, says Fielding, "had
they been intended for the very purpose of concealment, they could
scarce have been better contrived. Upon such a view the whole
appears as a vast Wood or Forest, in which a Thief may harbour with
as great Security as Wild Beasts do in the Desarts of Africa or
Arabia." Also the thief's organisation was excellent: "there are at
this Time," Fielding observes, "a great Gang of Rogues whose Number
falls little short of a Hundred, who are incorporated in one Body,
have Officers and a Treasury; and have reduced Theft and Robbery
into a regular System." Further, he could generally bribe or deter
the prosecutor. And in a last resource "rotten Members of the Law"
forged his defence, and abundant false witnesses supported it. An
illuminating example of the methods employed by our Georgian
ancestors towards "deterring" prosecution occurs in a smuggling
case of 1748, perpetrated shortly before Fielding first took
office. A party of smugglers caught a custom-house officer and a
shoemaker on their way to give evidence. The officer had 'every
joint of him' broken; and after other torture, the description of
which is more suitable for eighteenth century pages than our own,
was dispatched. The less fortunate shoemaker was hung by the middle
over a dry well, and left there. Several days afterwards the
smugglers, returning and hearing him groan, cut the rope, let him
drop to the bottom, and threw in logs and stones to cover him. And
it was not only from the common thief that the Londoner of 1750
suffered. That fine flower of eighteenth century lawlessness, the
gentleman of the road, carried his audacities into the heart of the
Town itself. "I was sitting in my own dining-room on Sunday night,"
writes Horace Walpole, to a friend, "the clock had not struck
eleven, when I heard a loud cry of 'stop thief!' A highwayman had
attacked a postchaise in Piccadilly: the fellow was pursued, rode
over the watchman, almost killed him, and escaped."</p>

<p>It was into a conflict with this epidemic of crime that
Fielding, at forty-three, and with already broken health, flung his
energies, to such purpose that in these last five years of his life
it is but too easy to forget the creator of <em>Joseph
Andrews</em>, of <em>Tom Jones</em>, and of <em>Amelia</em>, in his
last 'ardent desire,' as ardently pursued, to purify the sorely
diseased body politic. His method of attack was twofold. He dealt
vigorously with the individual criminal; and he sought to remove
some of the causes by which those criminals were engendered. The
individual attack is, for the most part, but sordid reading. Thus
from a fragment of the Westminster <em>Committment Books</em>,
preserved with the Middlesex Records, we may see how in January and
February of this year 1749 'Henry Fielding Esq.' committed to the
New Prison such cases as:</p>

<table cellspacing="4" cellpadding="8" border="0" width="90%"
summary=
"Table: People committed to prison for riot, beating, burglary, ill fame, etc.">
<tr>
<td>Thomas Thrupp</td>
<td>for riot</td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td>Thomas Trinder</td>
<td>for burglary</td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td>T. Chamberlain and Terence Fitz Patrick</td>
<td>for assault</td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td>C. O'Neal</td>
<td>for assaulting two Watchmen</td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td>Mary Hughes and Caterine Edmonds</td>
<td>for assault and beating</td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td>John Smithson</td>
<td>for exercising the art of pattenmaker without<br>
 having been brought up thereto for seven years</td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td>Cornelius York</td>
<td>for filing guineas</td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td>Christo Kelsey</td>
<td>for ill fame</td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td>Bryan Park</td>
<td>for assault</td>
</tr>
</table>

<p>This sorry list, interspersed with cases of murder, of robbery
with violence, and of smuggling, may doubtless be extended over the
entire five years of Fielding's work on the Bench; and to reiterate
the details of such work would be as tedious now as the monotonous
discharge of these duties must once have been to the author of
<em>Tom <a name="fnref12-9">Jones</a></em>. <a class="footnote"
href="#fn12-9">9</a> Of much more enduring interest is the great
novelist's second line of attack on the problem confronting
him.</p>

<p>For Henry Fielding's insight was far too profound for him to
fail to strike at the root of individual crime, in those conditions
which bred the criminal as surely as, to use his own favourite
simile, unclean surroundings breed disease. And he had not been six
months on the Bench before finding his first opportunity in a
<em>Charge</em> delivered, as their Chairman, to the Westminster
Grand Jury, on June 29, <a name="fnref12-10">1749</a>. <a class=
"footnote" href="#fn12-10">10</a> This "very loyal, learned,
ingenious, excellent and useful" Charge was published "By Order of
the Court, and at the unanimous Request of the Gentlemen of the
Grand Jury"; and it is, Mr Austin Dobson tells us, "still regarded
by lawyers as a model exposition." It is also a stirring appeal to
the worthy jurors to discharge their duties as befitted men called
upon to exercise one of the most ancient and honourable of English
liberties: "Grand Juries, Gentlemen," declared their new Chairman,
"are in Reality the only Censors of this Nation. As such, the
Manners of the People are in your Hands, and in yours only. You,
therefore, are the only Correctors of them.... To execute this Duty
with Vigilance, you are obliged by the Duty you owe both to God and
to your Country." Here is the same zeal, now directed to
stimulating the conscience of the Westminster Jurors, which moved
<em>Captain Vinegar</em> to lay about him so lustily on all the
abuses within reach of his newspaper, and which inspired the
'father of the English Novel' with the admitted motive,--"I
declare, that to recommend Goodness and Innocence hath been my
sincere Endeavour in this History"--if not with the consummate art
of his pages.</p>

<p>Fielding specially directs the energies of his jurors to the
repression of open profligacy, the more as, through the 'egregious
folly' of their parents, the <em>Town</em> had then become the
'seminaries of education' for youths of birth and station. And he
bids them attend to those 'temples of iniquity' the masquerade
rooms of the time, with a side glance at Foote's scandalous
performances; to the gaming houses; to the prevalent vice of
profane swearing, that "detestable Crime, so injurious to the
Honour of God, so directly repugnant to His positive Commands, so
highly offensive to the Ears of all good Men, and so very
scandalous to the Nation in the Ears of Foreigners"; and to the
libeller, a species of 'Vermin' whom "men ought to crush wherever
they find him, without staying till he bite them." It is noteworthy
also, that to the genius of Fielding, 'watching, brooding,
creating,' the characteristic feature of his age seemed to be a
"fury after licentious and luxurious pleasures." "Gentlemen," he
cries, "our News-Papers, from the Top of the Page to the Bottom,
the Corners of our Streets up to the very Eves of our Houses,
present us with nothing but a View of Masquerades, Balls, and
Assemblies of various Kinds, Fairs, Wells, Gardens, &amp;c. tending
to promote Idleness, Extravagance and Immorality, among all Sorts
of People." Many of the public, he declares, make diversion "no
longer the Recreation or Amusement, but the whole Business of their
Lives"; and not content with three theatres they must have a
fourth. What would he have said to a London in which not four but a
hundred and twenty theatres draw nightly, and sometimes twice a
day, their crowded audiences.</p>

<p>Two days after the delivery of this <em>Charge</em> (which the
<em>General Advertiser</em> praises as "excellent and learned") a
three days street riot broke out, which it fell to Fielding to
subdue. On Saturday July 1 a mob had gathered in the Strand, about
a disorderly house where a sailor was said to have been robbed.
Beadle Nathaniel Munns, arriving on the scene, found the mob crying
out "Pull down the house, pull down the house!"; and sent for the
constables. Meanwhile the mob broke open the house and demolished
and stripped the same; and throwing the goods out of the windows,
set fire to them, causing such danger of a general conflagration
that 'the parish engines' were sent for. A constable, <em>not being
able to find any magistrate in Town</em>, went to Somerset House to
procure assistance from the military, and on his returning with a
corporal and twelve men, a force that later that night was
increased to an officer and forty men, the mob was at last
dispersed. On the next day, however, Sunday, they reassembled, and
proceeded to demolish a second house, and to burn the goods thereof
with an even larger fire than that of the preceding night. Mr
Saunders Welch, High Constable for Holborn and, Fielding tells us,
"one of the best Officers who was ever concerned in the Execution
of Justice, and to whose Care, Integrity and Bravery the Public
hath, to my Knowledge, the highest Obligations," passing through
Fleet Street at the time, saw this second fire, and was told by the
owner of another house that the mob threatened to come to him next.
Upon which Mr Welch "well knowing the Impossibility of procuring
any Magistrate at that Time who would act," went to the Tilt Yard
and procured an officer and some forty men; and returning, found
the third house in great part wrecked, the danger of fire here
being aggravated by the extreme narrowness of the street on both
sides and the fact that the premises of a bank were adjacent. This
same Sunday night, also, the mob broke open the night-prison under
Beadle Munns' house, rescuing two prisoners; and forced the
Watch-house of the Liberty with stones and brick bats, to the
imminent danger of the Beadle's life, as "sworn before me, Henry
Fielding." Till three in the morning Mr Welch and the soldiers
remained on duty, by which time the rioters had again dispersed.
All this time Fielding, Mr Welch records, was out of town; but, by
noon on Monday, the Justice was back in Bow Street: and, on being
acquainted with the riot, immediately dispatched an order for a
party of the Guards to bring the prisoners to his house, the
streets being then full of a riotous crowd threatening danger of
rescue. Fielding proceeded to examine the prisoners, a "vast mob"
meanwhile being assembled in Bow Steet, and the streets adjacent.
On information of the threatening aspect of the people he applied
to the Secretary at War for a reinforcement of the Guards; and from
his window, spoke to the mob, informing them of their danger, and
exhorting them to disperse, but in vain. Rumours, moreover, came
that four thousand sailors were assembling to march to the Strand
that Monday night. In view of these rumours and of the riotous
state of the streets, Fielding, the officer of the guard, and Mr
Welch "sat up the whole night, while a large party of soldiers were
kept ready under arms who with the peace officers patrolled the
streets." And thanks to this vigorous action on the part of their
new magistrate the citizens found peace restored within twelve
hours of his return to town.</p>

<p>The same day as that on which Fielding was addressing the
riotous mob from his Bow Street windows, and sitting up all night
with the officer of a military guard, he found time to write to the
Duke of Bedford on his own behalf and on that of his family,
concerning the provision for which he betrays so constant an
anxiety.</p>

<p><br>
</p>

<p>"Bow Street. July 3. 1749.</p>

<p>"My Lord,</p>

<p>"The Protection which I have been honoured with receiving at the
Hands of your Grace, and the goodness which you were pleased to
express some time toward me, embolden me to mention to your Grace
that the Place of Solicitor to the Excise is now vacant by the
Death of Mr Selwyn. I hope no Person is better qualified for it,
and I assure you, my Lord, none shall execute it with more
Fidelity. I am at this Moment busied in endeavouring to suppress a
dangerous Riot, or I w'd. have personally waited on your Grace to
solicite a Favour which will make me and my Family completely
happy.</p>

<p>"I am, &amp;c.,</p>

<p>"H. <a name="fnref12-11">Ffielding</a>." <a class="footnote"
href="#fn12-11">11</a></p>

<p>The vacant post was secured, alas, by another candidate.</p>

<p>A few weeks after the riotous scenes which had enabled Fielding
to show himself a man of prompt action in times of popular ferment,
the publication is advertised of his <em>Charge</em>, published "by
order of the Court and at the request of the Gentleman of the Grand
Jury." And on the same day he submits to the Lord Chancellor a copy
both of this pamphlet, and of a draft of a <em>Bill for the better
preventing Street Robberies &amp;c</em>, the design of which it
appears Lord Hardwick had already encouraged.</p>

<p><br>
</p>

<p>"Bow Street, July 21. 1749.</p>

<p>"My Lord,</p>

<p>"I beg your Lordship's acceptance of a Charge given by me to the
Grand Jury of Westminster though I am but too sensible how unworthy
it is of your notice.</p>

<p>"I have likewise presumed to send my Draught of a Bill for the
better preventing street Robberies &amp;c. which your Lordship was
so very kind to say you would peruse; I hope the general Plan at
least may be happy in your Approbation.</p>

<p>"Your Lordship will have the goodness to pardon my repeating a
desire that the name of Joshua Brogden, may be inserted in the next
commission of the Peace for Middlesex and Westminster for whose
[integrity] and Ability in the Execution of his office. I will
engage my credit with your Lordship, an Engagement which appears to
me of the most sacred Nature.</p>

<p>"I am,<br>
"My Lord, with the utmost Respect and Devotion,<br>
"Your Lordship's most Obed't<br>
"Most humble Servant<br>
"H. <a name="fnref12-12">Ffielding</a>. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fn12-12">12</a></p>

<p>"To the Right Hon'ble.<br>
"The Lord High Chancellor of G. Britain."</p>

<p>All trace of the text of this draft Bill seems to have been
lost; but the fact of the Lord Chancellor's consent to consider its
provisions shows clearly enough how rapidly Fielding was adding to
his now achieved fame as the author of <em>Tom Jones</em> the very
different reputation of an authority on criminal legislation.</p>

<p>The application on behalf of Joshua Brogden, later if not at
this time the Justice's Clerk, recalls the further pleasant tribute
paid to the soundness of Mr Brogden's morals in the <em>Journal of
a Voyage to Lisbon.</em> If all Fielding's modest magisterial
income of £300 a year had gone, as he declares it should have done,
to his clerk, that functionary would, he tells us, have been "but
ill paid for sitting almost sixteen hours in the twenty four, in
the most unwholesome, as well as nauseous air in the universe, and
which hath in his case corrupted a good constitution without
contaminating his morals." It was Joshua Brogden who had witnessed,
a few months earlier, the agreement with Andrew Millar for <em>Tom
Jones</em>. Could the good clerk but have played the part of a
Boswell to his illustrious master we should have something more
than our present scanty materials for the personal life of Henry
Fielding.</p>

<p>Yet another of Fielding's rare letters belongs to this year; a
letter conveying his formal congratulations to Lyttelton, on that
model statesman's second marriage, and in which his warm heart
again makes application, not on behalf of his own scanty means, but
for a friend.</p>

<p><br>
</p>

<p>"Bow Street, Aug't 29, 1749.</p>

<p>"Sir,</p>

<p>"Permit me to bring up the Rear of your Friends in paying my
Compliments of Congratulation on your late Nuptials. There may
perhaps be seasons when the Rear may be as honourable a Post in
Friendship as in War, and if so such certainly must be every time
of Joy and Felicity. Your present situation must be full of these;
and so will be, I am confident, your future Life from the same
Fountain. Nothing can equal the excellent character your Lady bears
among those of her own Sex, and I never yet knew them speak well of
a woman who did not deserve their good words. How admirable is your
Fortune in the Matrimonial Lottery! I will venture to say there is
no man alive who exults more in this, or in any other Happiness
that can attend you than myself; and you ought to believe me from
the same Reason that fully persuades me of the satisfaction you
receive from any Happiness of mine; this Reason is that you must be
sensible how much of it I owe to your goodness; and there is a
great Pleasure in Gratitude though it is second I believe to that
of Benevolence; for of all the Delights upon Earth none can equal
the Raptures which a good mind feels on conferring Happiness on
those whom we think worthy of it. This is the sweetest ingredient
in Power, and I solemnly protest I never wished for Power, more
than a few days ago for the sake of a Man whom I love, and that
more perhaps from the esteem I know he bears towards you than from
any other Reason. This Man is in Love with a young Creature of the
most apparent worth, who returns his affection. Nothing is wanting
to make two very miserable People extremely Blessed but a moderate
portion of the greatest of human Evils. So Philosophers call it,
and so it is called by Divines, whose word is the rather to be
taken, as they are, many of them, more conversant with this Evil
than ever Philosophers were. The Name of this man is Moore to whom
you kindly destined that Laurel, which, though it hath long been
withered, may not probably soon drop from the Brow of its present
Possessor; but there is another Place of much the same Value now
vacant: it is that of Deputy Licensor to the Stage. Be not offended
at this Hint; for though I will own it impudent enough in one who
hath so many Obligations of his own to you, to venture to recommend
another man to your Favour, yet Impudence itself may possibly be a
Virtue when exerted on the behalf of a Friend; at least I am the
less ashamed of it, as I have known men remarkable for the opposite
Modesty possess it without the mixture of any other good Quality.
In this Fault then you must indulge me; for should I ever see you
as high in Power as I wish, and as it is perhaps more my Interest
than your own that you should be, I shall be guilty of the like as
often as I find a Man in whom I can, after much intimacy discover
no want, but that of the Evil above mentioned. I beg you will do me
the Honour of making my Compliments to your unknown Lady, and
believe me to be with the highest Esteem, Respect, Love, and
Gratitude</p>

<p>"Sir,<br>
"Y'r most obliged<br>
"Most obed't<br>
"humble Servant</p>

<p>"Henry Fielding.</p>

<p>"To the Hon'ble<br>
"George Lyttelton, <a name="fnref12-13">Esqr</a>." <a class=
"footnote" href="#fn12-13">13</a></p>

<p class="centered"><a name="i361"><img src="images/361.jpg" alt=
"Edward Moore" width="352" height="500"></a></p>

<p>This Edward Moore was a poet held worthy, it would seem, to
possess the Laureat's 'withered' laurel (even in 1749 Fielding
cannot refrain from a thrust at Colley Cibber); a journalist; a
writer of whom Dibden declared that the tendency of all his
productions was to "cultivate truth and morality"; a tradesman in
the linen business; and the son of a dissenting minister: a
combination of circumstances closely recalling Fielding's
friendship for the good dissenter, jeweller, and poet, George
Lillo. And it is to an undated letter by Edward Moore, hitherto
overlooked, that we owe one of the rare references to Henry
Fielding from a contemporary pen. Moore is writing to a dissenting
minister at Taunton, one Mr John Ward, of whom it was said that
venerable as he himself was for learning, worth, and piety he
deemed it "<em>an honour to have his name connected with that of
Moore</em>,"--a further proof of the quality of man whom Fielding
choose for friend. Moore had been prevented, by Fielding's illness,
from appointing an evening on which he might invite the Taunton
minister to his lodgings to meet there some of the first wits of
the day. "It is not," he writes, "owing to forgetfulness that you
have not heard from me before. Fielding continues to be visited for
his sins so as to be wheeled about from room to room; when he mends
I am sure to see him at my lodgings; and you may depend upon timely
notice. What fine things are Wit and Beauty, if a Man could be
temperate with one, or a Woman chaste with the other! But he that
will confine his acquaintance to the sober and the modest will
generally find himself among the dull and the ugly. If this remark
of mine should be thought to shoulder itself in without an
introduction you will be pleased to note that Fielding is a Wit;
that his disorder is the Gout, and intemperance the cause." It is
of course idle to contend that Fielding always carried a cool head.
Murphy tells us that to him might justly be applied a parody on a
saying concerning Scipio,--"always over a social bottle or a book,
he enured his body to the dangers of intemperance, and exercised
his mind with Studies." But we must in justice remember that the
Augustan age of English literature concerned itself but very little
with our modern virtue of sobriety. That Fielding, with the other
great men of his day, very often drank more than was good for him,
amounts to little more than saying that he wore a laced coat when
he had one, and carried a sword at his side.</p>

<p>The execution of one of the Strand rioters, Bosavern Penlez by
name, in September, had roused much controversy; and as the
evidence in the case was in Justice Fielding's possession, and the
attacks were levelled at the Government, we find him plunged once
more into political pamphleteering in the publication, under the
date of 1749, of the learned little treatise entitled "<em>A True
State of the Case of Bosavern Penlez' who suffered on account of
the late riot in the Strand. In which the Law regarding these
Offences and the Statute of George I. commonly called the Riot Act
are fully considered.</em>" The pamphlet opens with a warm protest
against the abuse to which Fielding had been subjected by his
political opponents. "It may easily be imagined," he writes, "that
a Man whose Character hath been so barbarously, even without the
least Regard to Truth or Decency, aspersed, on account of his
Endeavours to defend the present Government, might wish to decline
any future Appearance as a political Writer"; but more weighty
considerations move him to lay the defence of the Riot Act in
general, and of this application of it in particular, before a
public which had been imposed upon "in the grossest and wickedest
manner." We have already quoted the vivid depositions concerning
this Strand riot, which were sworn before Fielding, and which he
here reproduces; and his historical defence of the public need of
suppressing riots, from the days of Wat Tyler onwards, may be left
to the curious reader. Needless to say, Fielding makes out an
excellent case against the toleration of mob law:--"When by our
excellent Constitution the greatest Subject, no not even the King
himself, can, without a lawful Trial and Conviction divest the
meanest Man of his Property, deprive him of his Liberty, or attack
him in his Person; shall we suffer a licentious Rabble to be
Accuser, Judge, Jury, and Executioner; to inflict corporal
Punishment, break open Men's Doors, plunder their Houses, and burn
their Goods?" And, at the close, this pamphlet reveals the
warm-hearted magistrate no less than the erudite lawyer. For of the
two condemned prisoners, Wilson and Penlez, the case of the former
seemed to Fielding "to be the Object of true Compassion."
Accordingly he laid the evidence in his possession before "some
very noble Persons," and, he adds, "I flatter myself that it might
be a little owing to my Representation, that the Distinction
between an Object of Mercy, and an Object of Justice at last
prevailed". So the felon gained his respite, and a lasting niche
for his name, in that he owed his life partly if not wholly to the
generous compassion of Henry Fielding. The pamphlet seems to have
made its mark, for a second edition was advertised within a month
of publication.</p>

<p>This eventful year, the year which had seen the publication of
<em>Tom Jones</em>, the shackling of Fielding's genius within the
duties of a London magistrate, the issue of two pamphlets occupied
with criminal reform and administration, the drafting of a proposed
Criminal Bill, and the suppression of a riot, closed sadly with the
death of Fielding's little daughter, Mary Amelia, when barely
twelve months old. She was buried at St Paul's, Covent Garden, on
the seventeenth of December, 1749. And some time in the autumn or
early winter Fielding himself appears to have been dangerously ill.
This we learn from the following paragraph in the <em>General
Advertizer</em> for December 28: "Justice Fielding has no
Mortification in his Foot as has been reported: that Gentleman has
indeed been very dangerously ill with a Fever, and a Fit of the
Gout, in which he was attended by Dr Thompson, an eminent
Physician, and is now so well recovered as to be able to execute
his Office as usual."</p>

<h2><a name="chapter13">CHAPTER XIII</a><br>
<br>
FIELDING AND LEGISLATION</h2>

<p class="quoted">"The Subject, as well as the Child, should be
left without excuse before he is punished: for, in that case alone,
the Rod becomes the Hand either of the Parent or the
Magistrate."<br>
 &nbsp;&nbsp;<em>Inquiry Into the Causes of the late Increase of
Robbers</em>.</p>

<p>There is no Bill for the suppression of street robberies on the
Statute Book for 1749 or 1750; so the draft which Fielding, with
characteristic energy, despatched to the Lord Chancellor but a few
months after his appointment to the Bench, was, presumably,
pigeon-holed. Meanwhile, the criminal conditions of the metropolis
seem to have become, if anything, more scandalous. In February
1750, the <em>Penny Post</em> reports the gaols in and about London
to be "now so full of Felons and desperate Rogues that the Keepers
have not fetters enow to put upon them; so that in some Prisons two
or three are chained together to prevent their escape." And on the
fifth of the same month the <em>General Advertiser</em> hears that
"near 40 Highwaymen, street Robbers, Burglars, Rogues, Vagabonds,
and Cheats have been committed within a week last past by Justice
Fielding." But however full of business the Bow Street court-room
might be, that dreary <a name="fnref13-1">routine</a> <a class=
"footnote" href="#fn13-1">1</a> would make, as we have said, but
equally dreary reading. And the fact that both John and Henry
Fielding appear to have been known as 'Justice Fielding' during the
lifetime of the latter, lessens whatever biographical value might
be extracted from the constant newspaper paragraphs recording the
Fielding cases. It is clear that the house in Bow Street was the
centre of an active campaign against the thieves, murderers,
professional gamblers, and highwaymen, who were then so rife.
Military guards conducted thither prisoners, brought for
examination from Newgate, for fear of rescue from gangs lurking in
the neighbouring streets. All "Persons who have been robbed" and
their servants, were desired, by public advertisement, to attend
Justice Fielding "at his House in Bow Street," to identify certain
prisoners under examination. And thither came the "porters and
beggars," the composing of whose quarrels Henry Fielding himself
has told us, occupied his days. The generous spirit in which he
treated such poor clients, and his tenderness for those driven by
want into crime, are eminently characteristic of the man. By
adjusting, instead of inflaming, these squalid quarrels, and by
"refusing to take a shilling from a man who must undoubtedly would
not have had another left," he reduced a supposed income of £500 a
year to £300. And if the picture of the poor wretch, driven to
highway robbery by the sight of his starving family, whom Tom Jones
relieved from his own scanty purse, be not proof enough of the
compassion that tempered Justice Fielding's sternness, we have his
own express pleading for these unhappy victims of circumstance:
"what can be more shocking," he cries, "than to see an industrious
poor Creature, who is able and willing to labour forced by mere
want into Dishonesty, and that in a Nation of such Trade and
Opulence." So justly could Fielding apportion the contributary
negligence of society towards the criminals bred by its apathy.</p>

<p>And it was not only the impoverished porter who found help at
Bow Street. "When," says Murphy, "in the latter end of [Mr
Fielding's] days he had an income of four or five hundred a-year,
he knew no use of money but to keep his table open to those who had
been his friends when young, and had impaired their own fortunes."
As Mr Austin Dobson says, in commenting on one of Horace Walpole's
scurrilous <a name="fnref13-2">letters</a>, <a class="footnote"
href="#fn13-2">2</a> "it must always have been a more or less
ragged regiment which met about that kindly Bow Street board." The
man who parted with his own hardly won arrears of rent to relieve
the yet greater need of a College friend, was little likely to be
less generous when the tardy 'jade Fortune' at last put some
secured income into his hands.</p>

<p>No special event marks the spring and summer of 1750. On the
11th of January the Westminster General Quarter Sessions opened,
and on the following day Fielding was again elected as chairman
"for the two next Quarter Sessions"; which election was repeated,
"for the two next <a name="fnref13-3">Sessions</a>, <a class=
"footnote" href="#fn13-3">3</a>" in July. The Registers of St
Paul's Covent Garden record the baptism of a daughter, Sophia, on
the 21st of January. And an indication that the zealous magistrate
was plunged, personally, into some of the tumults of the time
occurs in the following trifling note to the Duke of Bedford.</p>

<p><br>
</p>

<p>"My Lord,</p>

<p>"In obedience to the Commands I have the Honour to receive from
your Grace, I shall attend tomorrow morning and do the utmost in my
Power to preserve the Peace on that occasion.</p>

<p>"I am, with gratitude and Respect,<br>
"My Lord,<br>
"Your Grace's most obliged<br>
"most obedient humble servant.</p>

<p>"Henry <a name="fnref13-4">Ffielding</a>. <a class="footnote"
href="#fn13-4">4</a></p>

<p>"Bow Street,<br>
"May 14, 1750."</p>

<p>By the autumn, however, a rumour was abroad that the now famous
author of <em>Tom Jones</em> was engaged on pages of a very
different nature. The <em>General Advertiser</em>, for October 9,
announces:--</p>

<p>"We hear that an eminent Magistrate is now employed in preparing
a Pamphlet for the Press in which the several causes that have
conspired to render Robberies so frequent of late will be laid
open; the Defects of our Laws enquired into, and Methods proposed
which may discourage and in a great measure prevent this growing
Evil for the future."</p>

<p>This pamphlet, in which many a later reform was urged by
Fielding's far-sighted zeal, seems to have been still in
preparation for the next two months. And in November the reform of
the law had to give place to a more immediate urgency in protecting
the Lord Chancellor. The keepers of three gaming houses, closed by
his lordship's orders, were reported to be plotting against that
exalted dignitary; and the case, as appears from the following
letter to a lawyer, Mr Perkins, was in Fielding's <a name=
"fnref13-5">hands</a>. <a class="footnote" href="#fn13-5">5</a></p>

<p><br>
</p>

<p>"Sir</p>

<p>"I have made full enquiry after the three Persons and have a
perfect account of them all. Their characters are such that perhaps
three more likely Men could not be found in the Kingdom for the
Hellish Purpose mentioned in the Letter. As the Particulars are
many and the Affair of such Importance I beg to see you punctually
at six this evening when I will be alone to receive you--and am,
Sir,</p>

<p>"Yr. most obed;<br>
"humble servant</p>

<p>"He Ffielding.</p>

<p>"Bow Street. Nov. 25. 1750."</p>

<p>When the keepers of gambling houses dared to fly at such high
game as the person of the Lord Chancellor, there is no wonder that
the safety of his Majesty's ordinary lieges was of small account.
"Robbery," writes Horace Walpole, a few weeks before the date of
the above letter, "is the only thing which goes on with any
vivacity." And at the close of the year a Royal Proclamation was
actually published, promising £100 over and above other rewards,
and a free pardon, to any accomplice who should apprehend offenders
committing murder, or robbery by violence, in London streets or
within five miles of London, providing such an accomplice had not
himself dealt a mortal wound. So startling a confession of
impotence on the part of the Government served very fitly to
introduce the pamphlet, then on the eve of publication. And if
further proof be needed of the conditions of public safety at the
beginning of the year 1751, it may be seen in the passage of the
King's Speech delivered at the opening of Parliament on the 17th of
January, in which his Majesty exhorted the Commons to suppress
outrages and violences on life and property; words representing, of
course, the policy of the Ministry.</p>

<p>The title of Fielding's little book, dedicated to Lord Hardwick,
and published about January 22, is <em>An Enquiry into the Causes
of the late Increase of Robbers &amp;c. with some Proposals for
remedying this growing Evil. In which the Present Reigning Vices
are impartially exposed; and the Laws that relate to the Provision
for the Poor and to the Punishment of Felons are largely and freely
examined</em>. The <em>Enquiry</em> opens with a powerful
denunciation of the licence then allowed to the three great causes,
in Fielding's opinion, of the increasing demoralisation of the
'most useful Part' of the people. These were, first, the immense
number of places of amusement, all seducing the working classes to
squander both their money and their time; this being "indeed a
certain Method to fill the Streets with Beggars and the Goals with
Debtors and Thieves." Here, in Fielding's view, new legislation was
demanded. The second cause of the late excessive increase of crime,
according to the <em>Enquiry</em>, was an epidemic of gin drinking,
"a new Kind of Drunkenness unknown to our Ancestors [which] is
lately sprung up amongst us." Gin, says Fielding, appeared to be
the principal sustenance of more than an hundred thousand
Londoners, "the dreadful Effects of which I have the Misfortune
every Day to see, and to smell too." The crime resulting from such
drunkenness was obvious; but Fielding, looking far beyond the
narrow confines of his court-room, beheld a future gin-sodden race,
and he appeals to the legislature to put a stop to a practice, the
consequences of which must alarm "the most sluggish Degree of
Public Spirit." It is surely something more than a coincidence that
a few weeks after these warnings were published, Hogarth issued his
awful plate of <em>Gin Lane</em>. A third source of crime, in
Fielding's eyes, was the gambling among the 'lower Classes of
Life,'--a school "in which most Highwaymen of great eminence have
been bred," and a habit plainly tending to the "Ruin of Tradesmen,
the Destruction of Youth, and to the Multiplication of every Kind
of Fraud and Violence." In this case the 'Eminent Magistrate' finds
new legislation less needed than a vigorous enforcement of existing
laws; such, he adds, "as hath lately been executed with great
Vigour within the Liberty of Westminster." Before long the pages of
<em>Amelia</em> were to bring home yet more forcibly to Fielding's
readers the cruel results of the pleasures (or speculations) of the
needy gambler,--the 'Destruction of Familys,' thereby incurred, no
less than the breeding of highwaymen. Who does not remember "that
famous scene when Amelia is spreading, for the recreant who is
losing his money at the Kings Arms, the historic little supper of
hashed mutton, which she has cooked with her own hands, and denying
herself a glass of white wine to save the paltry sum of sixpence,
'while her Husband was paying a Debt of several Guineas incurred by
the Ace of Trumps being in the hands of his Adversary'--a scene
which it is impossible to read aloud without a certain huskiness in
the <a name="fnref13-6">throat</a>." <a class="footnote" href=
"#fn13-6">6</a> The last great cause of crime which the
<em>Enquiry</em> considers, and with much learning and detail, is
the condition of the poor. Here Fielding's views on our modern
problem of the unemployed may be read. And here occurs a splendid
denunciation of the 'House of Correction' or Bridewell of the
period, a prison for idle and disorderly persons where "they are
neither to be corrected nor employed: and where with the
conversation of many as bad and sometimes worse than themselves
they are sure to be improved in the Knowledge and confirmed in the
Practice of Iniquity." The most impudent of the wretches brought
before him, Fielding tells us, were always "such as have been
before acquainted with the Discipline of Bridewell." These prisons,
from which the disorderly and idle came out, "much more idle and
disorderly than they went in," were, says Fielding, no other than
"Schools of Vice, Seminaries of Idleness, and Common-sewers of
Nastiness and Disease." A fixed (and lower) rate of wages, it is
curious to note, is one remedy advocated in the <em>Enquiry</em>,
for raising the condition of the poor.</p>

<p>Such were the 'temptations' to robbery that Fielding would have
removed, nobly conceiving the highest office of the legislature to
be that of prevention rather than cure. The <em>Enquiry</em>
concludes with offering some more immediate palliatives for the
diseased state of the body politic, in the removing of actual
'Encouragement to Robbery.' First among such encouragements
Fielding places the fact that "the Thief disposes of his goods with
almost as much safety as the honestest Tradesman"; and he urged the
need of legislation to prohibit the amazing advertisements by which
our ancestors promised to give rewards for the recovery of stolen
goods "<em>and no questions asked</em>." Such advertisements he
declares to be "in themselves so very scandalous and of such
pernicious Consequence, that if Men are not ashamed to own they
prefer an old Watch or a Diamond Ring to the Good of [the] Society
it is a pity some effectual Law was not contrived to prevent their
giving this public Countenance to Robbery for the future." And,
under this head, he advocates legislation either for the regulating
of pawnbrokers, or for the entire extirpation of a "Set of
Miscreants which, like other Vermin, harbour only about the Poor
and grow fat sucking their Blood." The subsequent legislation by
which prosecutors were recompensed for loss of time and money, when
prosecuting the 'wolves in society,' may be added to the measures
forseen if not actually promoted by Fielding's enlightened zeal.
And in nothing was he more in advance of his age than in his
denunciation of that scandal of the eighteenth century, the conduct
and frequency of public executions. It has taken our legislators a
hundred years to provide the swift, solemn and private executions
urged by Henry Fielding, in place of the brutal 'Tyburn holiday'
enacted every six weeks for the benefit of the Georgian mob.
Another matter demanding legislation was the great probability of
escape afforded to thieves by the narrow streets and the
common-lodging houses of the day. Of the latter, crowded with
miserable beds from the cellar to the garret, let out, at twopence
a night the single beds, and threepence the double ones, Fielding
draws a picture as terrible as any of his friend Hogarth's plates.
And he concludes "Nay I can add what I myself once saw in the
Parish of Shoreditch where two little Houses were emptied of near
seventy Men and Women," and where the money found on all the
occupants (with the exception of a pretty girl who was a thief)
"did not amount to one shilling." In all these houses gin,
moreover, was sold at a penny the quartern. Housed thus, in
conditions destructive of "all Morality, Decency and Modesty," with
the street for bed if they fall sick ("and it is almost a Miracle
that Stench, Vermin, and Want should ever suffer them to be well"),
oppressed with poverty, and sunk in every species of debauchery,
"the Wonder in Fact is," cries Fielding, "... that we have not a
thousand more Robbers than we have; indeed that all these wretches
are not thieves must give us either a very high Idea of their
Honesty or a very mean one of their Capacity and Courage." And,
leaving for a moment legislative reform, Fielding delivers a
vigorous attack on the national sluggishness of public spirit which
helped to render robbery a fairly safe profession. With such
sluggishness his ardent nature had very little sympathy. "With
regard to Private Persons," he protests, "there is no Country I
believe in the World where that vulgar Maxim so generally prevails
that what is the Business of every Man is the business of no Man;
and for this plain Reason, that there is no Country in which less
Honour is gained by serving the Public. He therefore who commits no
crime against the Public, is very well satisfied with his own
Virtue; far from thinking himself obliged to undergo any Labour,
expend any Money, or encounter any Danger on such Account." And in
no part of the <em>Enquiry</em> does the writer more truly show his
wisdom than in the pages on 'false Compassion' that plausible
weakness which refuses to prosecute the oppressors of the helpless
and innocent, and which at that time, in the person of his Majesty,
King George II. was, it appears, very active in pardoning offenders
when convicted. Fielding's arguments are incontestable; but his
apologue may have found even more favour in the age of wit. He
hopes such good nature may not carry those in power so far, "as it
once did a Clergyman in <em>Scotland</em> who in the fervour of his
Benevolence prayed to God that He would be graciously pleased to
pardon the poor Devil."</p>

<p>To the devil, whether in man or in society, Fielding was ever a
'spirited enemy'; and his first biographer tells us that "to the
unworthy he was rather harsh." But the last page of this little
book breathes that spirit of tenderness for hard pressed humanity
which in Fielding was so characteristically mingled with a
wholesome severity. If the legislature would take proper care to
raise the condition of the poor, then he declares the root of the
evil would be struck: "nor in plain Truth will the utmost severity
to Offenders be justifiable unless we take every possible Method of
preventing the offence ... the Subject as well as the child should
be left without Excuse before he is punished: for in that Case
alone the Rod becomes the Hand either of the Parent or the
Magistrate." And his last word is one of compassion for the "many
Cart-loads of our Fellow-creatures [who] once in six weeks are
carried to Slaughter"; of whom much the greater part might, with
'proper care and Regulations' have been made "not only happy in
themselves but very useful Members of the Society which they now so
greatly dishonour in the Sight of all Christendom."</p>

<p>Henry Fielding is himself his own best illustration when he
declares that the "good Poet and the good Politician do not differ
so much as some who know nothing of either art affirm; nor would
<em>Homer</em> or <em>Milton</em> have made the worst Legislators
of their Times."</p>

<p>To the reader of to-day the <em>Enquiry</em> betrays no party
flavour, but its sedate pages clearly stirred up the hot feeling of
the times. Early in February the Advertiser announced "<em>This Day
is published A Letter to Henry Fielding Esqre. occasioned by his
Enquiry into the causes of the late increase of Robbers
&amp;c.</em>" And about the end of the month there appeared
<em>Considerations</em>, in two numbers of the <em>True
Briton</em>, "on Justice Fielding's 'Enquiry,' shewing his Mistakes
about the Constitution and our Laws and that what he seems to
propose is dangerous to our Properties, Liberties and
Constitution." On March 7 was announced <em>Observations on Mr
Fielding's Enquiry</em>, by one B. Sedgley. Some opposition squib,
too, must have been launched, to judge by the following item from
an advertisement column of the same date: "a Vindication of the
Rights and Privileges of the Commonality of England, in Opposition
to what has been advanced by the Author of the Enquiry, or to what
may be promulgated by any Ministerial Artifices against the public
Cause of Truth and Liberty. <em>By</em> Timothy Beck<em>the Happy
Cobler of Portugal-<a name="fnref13-7">street</a></em>." <a class=
"footnote" href="#fn13-7">7</a> Perhaps some collector of
eighteenth century pamphlets may be able to reveal these comments
of the '<em>Happy Gobler of Portugal-street</em>' upon the
'artifices' of Henry <a name="fnref13-8">Fielding</a>. <a class=
"footnote" href="#fn13-8">8</a></p>

<p>In the February following the publication of the
<em>Enquiry</em> a Parlimentary Committee was appointed "to revise
and consider the Laws in being, which relate to Felonies and other
Offences against the <a name="fnref13-9">Peace</a>." <a class=
"footnote" href="#fn13-9">9</a> The Committee included Lyttelton
and Pitt, and there is of course every probability that Fielding's
evidence would be taken; but it seems impossible now to discover
what share he may have had in this move by the Government towards
fresh criminal legislation. There is, however, the evidence of his
own hand that in the matter of prison administration his efforts
were not limited to academic pamphlets, or to the indictment, so
soon to be published, contained in the terrible prison scenes of
<em>Amelia</em>. The following letter to the Duke of <a name=
"fnref13-10">Newcastle</a> <a class="footnote" href=
"#fn13-10">10</a> shows an anxious endeavour to secure such good
government as was possible for at least one of the gaols.</p>

<p><br>
</p>

<p>"My Lord</p>

<p>"It being of the utmost consequence to the Public to have a
proper Prison Keeper of the new Prison at the Time, I beg leave to
recommend Mr William Pentlow a Constable of St George Bloomsbury to
your Grace's Protection in the present Vacancy. He is a Man of
whose Courage and Integrity I have seen the highest Proofs, and is
indeed every way qualified for the charge. I am with the most
Perfect Respect,</p>

<p>"My Lord,<br>
"Your Grace's most obedient<br>
"and most humble servant,</p>

<p>"Henry Ffielding<br>
"Bow Street Jan. 15. 1750 [1751]."</p>

<p>A second edition of the <em>Enquiry</em> appeared early in the
spring; and according to the <em>Journals of the House of
Commons</em> it was resolved, in April, that a Bill be brought in
on the resolution of the Committee appointed two months previously
to consider criminal legislation. Again it can only be surmised
that Fielding's assistance would be invoked in the drafting of this
Bill. That his vigorous denunciations of the national danger of the
gin curse were in complete accord with the feeling of the
Government is apparent from the fact that two months later, in June
1751, the <em>Tippling <a name="fnref13-11">Act</a></em> <a class=
"footnote" href="#fn13-11">11</a> received the royal assent, by
which Act very stringent restrictions were imposed on the sale of
spirits.</p>

<p class="centered"><a name="i362"><img src="images/362.jpg" alt=
"Sir John Fielding" width="342" height="500"></a></p>

<p>In June Fielding again appears as Chairman of the Westminster <a
name="fnref13-12">Sessions</a>. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fn13-12">12</a> And in September cases occur as brought before
John Fielding and others "at Henry Fielding's house in Bow <a name=
"fnref13-13">Street</a>," <a class="footnote" href=
"#fn13-13">13</a> from which it appears that Fielding's blind
half-brother was already acting as his assistant. In the following
month John Fielding appears among the Justices of the Westminster
Quarter <a name="fnref13-14">Sessions</a>. <a class="footnote"
href="#fn13-14">14</a></p>

<p>The year that had seen the publication of the <em>Enquiry</em>,
affords proof enough of Fielding's active labours in criminal and
social reform; but the last month of this year is marked by an
occurrence of much greater import for English literature, the
publication of the third great novel, <em>Amelia</em>.</p>

<h2><a name="chapter14">CHAPTER XIV</a><br>
<br>
<em>Amelia</em></h2>

<p class="quoted">"of all my Offspring she is my favourite
Child."<br>
 &nbsp;&nbsp;The <em>Covent Garden Journal</em>. No. 8.</p>

<p>On the 2nd of December 1751 the <em>General Advertiser</em>
announces that</p>

<p class="quoted"><em>On Wednesday the 18th of this Month will be
published</em></p>

<p class="quoted">IN FOUR VOLUMES DUODECIMO</p>

<p class="quoted">AMELIA</p>

<p class="quoted">By HENRY FIELDING, Esq;<br>
<br>
 <em>Beati ter et amplius<br>
 Quos irrupta tenet Copula.</em> HOR.</p>

<p>And the puff preliminary of the period may be read in the same
columns, declaring that the "earnest Demand of the Publick" had
necessitated the use of four printing presses; and that it being
impossible to complete the binding in time, copies would be
available "sew'd at Half-a-Guinea a Sett." Sir Walter Scott tells
us that, at a sale to booksellers before publication, Andrew
Millar, the publisher, refused to part with <em>Amelia</em> on the
usual discount terms; and that the booksellers, being thus
persuaded of a great future for the book, eagerly bought up the
impression. Launched thus, and heralded by the popularity with
which <em>Tom Jones</em> had now endowed Fielding's name, the
entire edition was sold out on the day of publication; an event
which evoked the observation from Dr Johnson that <em>Amelia</em>
was perhaps the only book which being printed off betimes one
morning, a new edition was called for before night. The Doctor gave
not only unstinted praise, but also an involuntary tribute to
<em>Amelia</em>. He read the book through, without pausing, from
beginning to end. And he pronounced Amelia herself to be "the most
pleasing heroine of all the <a name="fnref14-1">romanc</a>es." <a
class="footnote" href="#fn14-1">1</a></p>

<p>But to the majority of readers Amelia is, assuredly, something
more than the most charming of heroines. She is the delightful
companion; the wise and tender friend; a woman whose least
perfection was that dazzling beauty which shone with equal lustre
in the 'poor rags' lent her by her old nurse, or in her own
clothing, just as the happy purity of her nature only glows more
brightly for the dark scenes through which she moves. In the whole
range of English literature there is surely no figure more warmly
human, and yet less touched with human imperfection; none more
simply and naturally alive, and yet truer in every crisis (and
there were few of the sorrowful things of life unknown to her) to
the best qualities of generous womanhood. And if it is largely for
her glowing vitality that we love Amelia, we love her none the less
in that she is no fool. It was hardly necessary to tell us, as
Fielding is careful to do, that her sense of humour was keen, and
that her insight into the ridiculous was tempered only by the
deeper insight of her heart. Her understanding of her husband is as
perfect as her love for him; and that love is far too profound to
allow a moment's suggestion of mere placid amiability. Amelia,
whether quizzing the absurdities of the affected fine ladies of her
own rank, or cooking her husband's supper in the poor lodgings of
their poverty; whether so radiant with happiness after seeing her
little children handsomely entertained that with flushed cheeks and
bright eyes, "she was all a blaze of beauty," or, pale with
distress, bravely carrying her own clothes and the children's
trinkets to the pawnbroker; whether betraying her own noble
qualities of silence and forgiveness, or losing her temper with Mrs
Bennett,--commands equal affection and admiration. "They say,"
wrote Thackeray, "that it was in his own home that Fielding knew
her and loved her: and from his own wife that he drew the most
charming character in English fiction--Fiction? Why fiction! Why
not history? I know Amelia just as well as Lady Mary Wortley
Montagu."</p>

<p>Lady Mary, and her daughter Lady Bute, have left very definite
statements concerning this portrait which their cousin was alleged
to have hidden under the fair image of Amelia. Lady Bute we are
told was no stranger "to that beloved first wife whose picture he
drew in his Amelia, where, as she said, even the glowing language
he knew how to employ did not do more than justice to the amiable
qualities of the <a name="fnref14-2">original</a>...." <a class=
"footnote" href="#fn14-2">2</a> And Lady Mary herself writes, "H.
Fielding has given a true picture of himself and his first wife, in
the characters of Mr and Mrs Booth [Amelia and her husband], some
compliments to his own figure excepted; and I am persuaded several
of the incidents he mentions are real matters of <a name=
"fnref14-3">fact</a>." <a class="footnote" href="#fn14-3">3</a>
Against these persuations we must place the fact that this book
contains no such explicit statement as that which in <em>Tom
Jones</em> assures us of the original of the beautiful Sophia. But
we shall not love Amelia the less if we see her, with her courage
and her beauty, her happy gaiety of spirit, her tenderness and
strength, solacing the distresses and calming the storms of
Fielding's restless genius, rather than devoting those qualities to
assuaging the misfortunes of Captain William Booth. For indeed
Captain Booth has but one substantial title to our regard, and that
is his adoration for his wife. True, he is a pretty figure of a
man; he has a handsome face; he fights bravely, and would kick a
rogue through the world; he believes in and loves his friends; and
he plays charmingly with his children. But, deprive him of the good
genius of his life, and Captain Booth would very speedily have sunk
into the ruin and despair of any other profligate young gamester
about the Town; and for this his adoration the culprit wins our
forgiveness, even as Amelia not only forgave but forgot, when by
virtue of her own unconscious goodness the Captain retrieved
himself, at last, from the folly of his ways. Undoubtedly the man
whom Amelia loved, and who had the grace to return that passion,
was no scoundrel at heart.</p>

<p>It is impossible, now, to discover with any certainty the
incidents which Lady Mary was persuaded were matters of fact. The
experiences of Captain Booth, when essaying to turn gentleman
farmer, have been quoted as copies of Fielding's own ambitions at
East Stour; but surely on very slender evidence. Much more personal
seem many of the later scenes in the poor London lodgings, scenes
of cruel distress and perfect happiness, of bitter disappointments
and sanguine hope. Here, very probably, we have echoes of the
struggles of Harry and Charlotte Fielding, in the days of hackney
writing and of baffled efforts at the Bar; just as the dry
statement by Arthur Murphy, that Fielding was "remarkable for ...
the strongest affection for his children," comes to life in the
many touching pictures of Amelia and Booth with their little son
and daughter. The pursuit of such identity of incident may the more
cheerfully be left to the anecdotist, in that the biographical
value of <em>Amelia</em>, is far more than incidental. For the book
is, as has been said, a one-part piece. Round the single figure of
Amelia all the other characters revolve; and it was of Amelia that
Fielding himself has told us, in words that are a master key to his
own character "of all my offspring she is my favourite Child." As
surely as a man may be known by his choice in a friend, so is the
nature of the artist betrayed when he avows his partiality for one
alone among all the creations of his genius.</p>

<p>As to the remaining figures in this "model of human life," to
quote Fielding's own descriptive phrase of his book, those which
tell us most of their author are that worthy, authoritative,
humourous clergyman, Dr Harrison; the good Sergeant Atkinson; and
that fiery pedant Colonel Bath, with his kind heart hidden under a
ferocious passion for calling out every man whom he conceived to
have slighted his honour. Dr Harrison does not win quite the same
place in our hearts as the man whom Thackeray calls 'dear Parson
Adams'; his cassock rustles a little too loudly; the saint is a
trifle obscured in the Doctor. But yet we love him for his warm and
protecting affection for his 'children' as he calls Amelia and
Booth; for his dry humour; and for that generosity which was for
ever draining his ample purse. And perhaps we like him none the
less for his scholar's raillery of that early blue-stocking Mrs
Bennet; while his dignity never shows to greater advantage than
when he throws himself bodily on the villain Murphy, achieving the
arrest of that felon by the strength of his own arm, and the
nimbleness of his own legs. And to this good Doctor is given a
saying eminently characteristic of Justice Fielding himself. We are
told that "it was a maxim of his that no man could descend below
himself in doing any act which may contribute to protect an
innocent person, or to bring a rogue to the gallows." Another trait
of the Doctor recalls Fielding's oft reiterated aversion to what he
calls grave formal persons: "You must know then, child," said he,
to poor Booth, sunk in the melancholy problem of supporting a wife
and three children on something less than £40 a year, "that I have
been thinking on this subject as well as you; for I can think, I
promise you, with a pleasant countenance." Of Amelia's
foster-brother Sergeant Atkinson (from whom Major William Dobbin is
directly descended) it is enough to say that the noble qualities
concealed beneath the common cloth of his sergeant's coat perfectly
confirm a sentence written many years before by the hand of his
author. "I will venture to affirm," Fielding declares, in his early
essay on the <em>Characters of Men</em>, "that I have known ...
<em>a Fellow whom no man should be seen to speak to</em>, capable
of the highest acts of Friendship and Benevolence."</p>

<p>Fielding's energies in this his last novel, a novel be it
remembered written in the midst of daily contact with the squalid
vices exhibited in an eighteenth century court-room, seem to have
been almost wholly absorbed in creating the most perfect escape
from those surroundings in the person of Amelia. Beside the figure
of his 'favourite child,' the vicious criminals of his stage, the
malefic My Lord, the loathsome Trent, the debased Justice, the
terrible human wrecks in Newgate, are but dark figures in a shadowy
back-ground. Still, the great moralist shows no lack of vigour in
his delineations of such offspring of vice. The genius that knew
how to rouse every reader of <em>Tom Jones</em> to 'lend a foot to
kick Blifil downstairs,' awards in the last pages of
<em>Amelia</em>, a yet more satisfying justice to that nameless
connoisseur in profligacy, My Lord.</p>

<p class="centered"><a name="i363"><img src="images/363.jpg" alt=
"Ralph Allen" width="346" height="500"></a></p>

<p>In his Dedication to Ralph Allen, Fielding states that his book
"is sincerely designed to promote the Cause of Virtue, and to
expose some of the most glaring Evils, as well public as private,
which at present infest this Country". The statement seems somewhat
needless when prefacing pages which enshrine Amelia; and where also
are displayed Blear Eyed Moll in the prison yard of Newgate, as
Newgate was twenty years before the prison reforms of Howard were
heard of; Justice Thrasher and his iniquities; the 'diabolisms' of
My Lord and of his tool Trent; the ruinous miseries of excessive
gambling; and the abuses of duelling. Indeed the avowedly didactic
purpose of the moralist seems at times to cloud a little the fine
perception of the artist. There are passages, in this book which,
much as they redound to the honour of their writer, are
indisputably heavy reading. But what shall not be forgiven to the
creator of Amelia. "To have invented that character," cries
Thackeray, also becoming didactic, "is not only a triumph of art,
but it is a good action." And he tells us how with all his heart he
loves and admires the 'kindest and sweetest lady in the world'; and
how he thinks of her as faithfully as though he had breakfasted
with her that morning in her drawing-room, or should meet her that
afternoon in the Park.</p>

<p>It is recorded that Fielding received from Andrew Millar £1000
for the copyright of <em>Amelia</em>. But the reception of the new
novel, after the first rush for copies, seems to have done little
credit either to the brains or to the heart of the public. And in
the month following <em>Amelia's</em> appearance, Fielding
satirises the comments of the Town, in two numbers of his
<em>Covent Garden Journal</em>; protesting that though he does not
think his child to be entirely free from faults--"I know nothing
human that is so,"--still "surely she does not deserve the Rancour
with which she hath been treated by the Public." As ironic
specimens of the faults complained of in his heroine, he quotes the
accusations that her not abusing her husband "for having lost Money
at Play, when she saw his Heart was already almost broke by it, was
<em>contemptible Meanness</em>"; that she condescends to dress her
husband's supper, and to dress her children, to whom moreover she
shows too much kindness; that she once mentions the DEVIL; that she
is a <em>low</em> character; and that the beauty of her face is
hopelessly flawed by a carriage accident. Such are some of the
charges brought against the lovely Amelia by the "Beaus, Rakes,
fine Ladies, and several formal Persons with bushy wigs and canes
at their Noses," who, in Fielding's satire, crowd the Court where
his book is placed on trial for the crime of dullness. Then
Fielding himself steps forward, and after pleading for this his
'favourite Child,' on whom he has bestowed "a more than ordinary
Pains in her Education," he declares, with the same hasty petulance
that characterised that previous outburst in the preface to
<em>David Simple</em>, that indeed he "will trouble the World no
more with any children of mine by the same Muse." Two months later
the <em>Gentleman's Magazine</em> prints a spirited appeal against
this resolution. "His fair heroine's nose has in my opinion been
too severely handled by some modern <a name=
"fnref14-4">critics</a>," <a class="footnote" href="#fn14-4">4</a>
writes Criticulus, after a passage of warm praise for the
characterisation, the morality, and the 'noble reflections of the
book'; and he proceeds to point out that the writings of such
critics "will never make a sufficient recompense to the world, if
<em>Mr Fielding</em> adheres to what I hope he only said in his
warmth and indignation of this injurious treatment, that he will
never trouble the public with any more writings of this kind." The
words of the enlightened <em>Criticulus</em> echo sadly when we
remember that in little more than two years the great genius and
the great heart of Henry Fielding were to be silenced.</p>

<p>The <em>London Magazine</em> for 1751 devotes the first nine
columns of its December number to a resume of the novel, and
continues this compliment in another nine columns of appendix. With
a fine patronage the reviewer concludes that "upon the whole, the
story is amusing, the characters kept up, and many reflections
which [sic] are useful, if the reader will but take notice of them,
which in this unthinking age it is to be feared very few will."
Some imperfections he kindly excuses on the score of "the author's
hurry of business in administering impartial justice to his
majesty's good people"; but he cannot excuse what he declares to be
the ridicule of <em>Liberty</em> in Book viii.; and he solemnly
exhorts the author that as "he has in this piece very justly
exposed some of the private vices and follies of the present age"
so he should in his next direct his satire against political
corruption, otherwise 'he and his patrons' will be accused of
compounding the <a name="fnref14-5">same</a>. <a class="footnote"
href="#fn14-5">5</a> It seems incredible that any suggestion should
ever have attached to the author of <em>Pasquin</em> and the
<em>Register</em>, as to one who could condone public corruption.
And as for the accusation of tampering with "Liberty" the like
charge was brought, we may remember, by the "Happy Cobler of
Portugal Street" against Fielding's <em>Inquiry into the Encrease
of Robbers</em>. The literary cobblers who pursued <em>Amelia</em>
with the abuse of their poor pens may very well be consigned to the
oblivion of their political brother. The comment of one hostile pen
cannot however be dismissed as coming from a literary cobbler, and
that is the 'sickening' abuse, to use Thackeray's epithet, which
Richardson dishonoured himself in flinging at his great
contemporary. That abuse the sentimentalist poured out very freely
on <em>Amelia</em>; but, as Mr Austin Dobson says, "in cases of
this kind <em>parva seges satis est</em>, and Amelia has long since
outlived both rival malice and contemporary coldness. It is a proof
of her author's genius that she is even more intelligible to our
age than she was to her <a name="fnref14-6">own</a>." <a class=
"footnote" href="#fn14-6">6</a></p>

<p>In Fielding's satiric description of the Court before which his
Amelia stood her trial, he describes himself as an 'old gentleman.'
The adjective seems hardly applicable to a man of forty five; but,
to quote again from Mr Austin Dobson, "however it may have chanced,
whether from failing health or otherwise, the Fielding of
<em>Amelia</em> is suddenly a far older man than the Fielding of
<em>Tom Jones</em>. The robust and irrepressible vitality, the full
veined delight of living, the energy of observation and strength of
satire, which characterise the one, give place in the other to a
calmer retrospection, a more compassionate humanity, a more
benignant criticism of life." Murphy's Irish tongue declares a
similar feeling in his comparison of the pages of this, the last of
the three great novels, to the calm of the setting sun; a sun that
had first broken forth in the 'morning glory' of <em>Joseph
Andrews</em>, and had attained its 'highest warmth and splendour'
in the inimitable pages of <em>Tom Jones</em>. There is indeed a
mature wisdom and patience in Amelia such as none but a pedant
could demand of her enchanting younger sister Sophia. In these
later pages Sophia has grown up into a gracious womanhood, while
losing none of her girlhood's gaiety and charm. That Amelia, his
older and wiser though scarce sadder child, was the nearest, as he
himself tells us, to Fielding's own heart, is one more indication
that here is the perfected image of that beloved wife, from whose
youthful grace and beauty his genius had already modelled one
exquisite memorial.</p>

<h2><a name="chapter15">CHAPTER XV</a><br>
<br>
JOURNALIST AND MAGISTRATE</h2>

<p class="quoted">"However vain or romantic the Attempt may seem I
am sanguine enough to aim at serving the noble Interests of
Religion, Virtue, and good Sense, by these my lucubrations."<br>
The <em>Covent Garden Journal</em>. No. 5.</p>

<p>Nothing could be more characteristic of Fielding's active spirit
than were the early months of 1752. For, no sooner had he deposited
the four volumes of <em>Amelia</em> in the hands of the public,
essaying to win his readers over to a love of virtue and a hatred
of vice, by placing before their eyes that true "model of human
life," than we find him launching a direct attack on the follies
and evils of the age, by means of his old weapon, the press.</p>

<p>The first number of the <em>Covent Garden Journal</em> appeared
on the 4th of January, and its pages, produced under Fielding's own
management and apparently largely written by his own pen, provided
satires on folly, invectives against vice, and incitements to
goodness and sense, delivered in the name of one <em>Sir Alexander
Drawcansir, Knt. Censor of Great <a name=
"fnref15-1">Britain</a></em>. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fn15-1">1</a> The new paper ran but for seventy-two numbers;
perhaps for all the wit and learning, the fire and zest of its
columns, the public were reluctant to buy their own lashings. But
it may be doubted whether, except in the pages of his three great
novels, Henry Fielding ever revealed himself more completely than
in these his last informal 'lucubrations.' Here, the active
Justice, the accomplished scholar, the lawyer, and man of the
world, the first wit of his day, talks to us of a hundred topics,
chosen indeed on the spur of the moment, but discussed in his own
incomparable words, and with the now mature authority of one, who
had "dived into the inmost Recesses of Human Nature." No subject is
too abstruse, none too trifling, for <em>Mr Censor</em> to
illumine. Freed from the political bands of the earlier newspapers,
this last <em>Journal</em>, produced be it remembered by a man in
shattered health, and distracted by the squalid business of a Bow
Street Court-room, ranges over an amazing compass of life and
manners.</p>

<p>Thus, one January morning, <em>Sir Alexander's</em> readers
would open their paper to find him deploring the decline of "a
Religion sometime ago professed in this Country, and which, if my
Memory fails me not was called Christian." The following Saturday
they are presented with a learned and pleasant argument to prove
that every male critic should be eighteen years of age, and "BE
ABLE TO READ." A few days later the pages of writers purveying the
prevalent "Infidelity, Scurrility, and Indecency" are ingeniously
allotted to various uses. In February the <em>Journal</em> accords
a noble tribute "to that great Triumvirate Lucian, Cervantes, and
Swift"; not indeed "for that Wit and Humour alone, which they all
so eminently possesst, but because they all endeavoured with the
utmost Force of their Wit and Humour, to expose and extirpate those
Follies and Vices which chiefly prevailed in their several
Countries." The design of Aristophanes and Rabelais on the other
hand, appears to <em>Mr Censor</em>, if he may speak his opinion
freely, "very plainly to have been to ridicule all Sobriety,
Modesty, Decency, Virtue, and Religion out of the world." From such
considerations it is an easy passage to a definition of 'real
Taste' as derived from a "nice Harmony between the Imagination and
the Judgment"; and to these final censorial warnings:--"<em>Evil
Communications corrupt good Manners</em> is a quotation of St Paul
from Menander. EVIL BOOKS CORRUPT AT ONCE BOTH OUR MANNERS AND OUR
TASTE." Four days after this learned 'lucubration' the voice of the
warm-hearted magistrate speaks in a reminder of the prevailing
abject misery of the London poor who "in the most miserable
lingering Manner do daily perish for Want in this Metropolis." And
in almost the next number his Honour gives his readers letters from
the fair <em>Cordelia</em>, from <em>Sarah Scandal</em>, and from
other correspondents, of a wit pleasant enough to drive London's
poverty far from their minds. Two days after attending to these
ladies, the <em>Censor</em> takes up his keenest weapons in an
attack on that "detestable vice of slander" by which is taken away
the "<em>immediate Jewel of a Man's Soul</em>," his good name; a
crime comparable to that of murder. Here we have <em>Sir
Alexander</em> speaking with the same voice as did the playwright
and journalist of ten years previously, when he declared, in his
<em>Miscellanies</em>, that to stab a man's character 'in the dark'
is no less an offence than to stab his flesh in the same
treacherous manner. Indeed, throughout these last columns of weekly
satire, wit, and learning, Fielding remains true to the constant
tenor of his genius. He exposes the miser, the seducer of
innocence, the self-seeker, the place-hunter, the degraded vendor
of moral poison, the 'charitable' hypocrite, with the same fierce
moral energy as that with which, when but a lad of one and twenty,
he first assailed the vices of the society in which his own lot was
cast. His unconquerable energy, an energy that neither sickness nor
distress could abate, still assaults that "cursed Maxim ... that
Everybody's business is Nobody's." And his wit has lost none of its
point when thrusting at the lesser follies of the day; at the fair
Clara's devotion to her pet monkey; at the insolence of the Town
Beau at the playhouse; at the arrogance of carters in the streets;
at the vagaries of fashion according to which Belinda graces the
theatre with yards of ruff one day, and on the next discards that
covering so entirely that the snowy scene in the boxes "becomes
extremely delightful to the eyes of every Beholder."</p>

<p>It is quite impossible to convey, within the limits of a few
pages, all that <em>Sir Alexander</em> tells us of what he sees and
hears, as the tragi-comedy of life passes before his Bow Street
windows. For Fielding possessed in the highest degree the art of
hearing, to use his own analysis, not with the ear only (an organ
shared by man with "other Animals") but also with the head, and
with the heart; just as his eye could penetrate beneath the velvet
coat of the prosperous scoundrel, the reputation of the illiterate
author, or the sorry rags of some honest hero of the gutter. And
his <em>Covent Garden Journal</em> is, in truth, his journal of
eleven months of a life into the forty odd years of which were
compressed both the insight of genius, and the activities of twenty
average men. Such a record cannot be sifted into a summary. The
acknowledged motive of this last of Fielding's newspapers is,
however, concise enough; and does equal honour to his patriotism
and his humanity. The age, as it seemed to him, was an age of
public degradation. Religion was vanishing from the life of the
people; politics were a petty question of party jealousy; literary
taste was falling to the level of alehouse wit and backstairs
scandal; the youth of the nation were completing their education,
when fifteen or sixteen years old, by a course of the Town, and
then qualifying for a graduate's degree in like knowledge, by a
foreign tour; the 'mob' was gaining a dangerous excess of power;
the leaders of society were past masters and mistresses of vice and
folly; the poor in the streets were sunk in misery, or brutalised
into reckless crime. This was the England that <em>Mr Censor</em>
saw from his house in Bow Street; this was the England which he set
out to purify; and the means which he chose were his own familiar
weapons of satire and ridicule. Of these, ridicule, he declares,
when his <em>Journal</em> was but four weeks old, "is commonly a
stronger and better method of attacking Vice than the severer kind
of Satire." In accordance with which view, <em>General Sir
Alexander</em> is represented, in a mock historic forecast, as
having, in the space of twelve months, entirely cleansed his
country from the evils afflicting it, by means of a "certain Weapon
called a Ridicule." These evils moreover Fielding held to be most
readily combated by assailing "those base and scandalous Writings
which the Press hath lately poured in such a torrent upon us that
the Name of an Author is in the ears of all good Men become almost
an infamous appelation"; and, accordingly, the first number of his
new paper discloses <em>Sir Alexander</em> in full crusade against
these Grub-Street writers. But that he soon perceived the quixotic
impolicy of such a campaign, appears very clearly, as early as the
fifth number of the <em>Journal</em>:--"when Hercules undertook to
cleanse the Stables of Augeas (a Work not much unlike my present
Undertaking) should any little clod of Dirt more filthy perhaps
than all the rest have chanced to bedawb him, how unworthy his
Spirit would it have been to have polluted his Hands, by seizing
the dirty clod, and crumbling it to Pieces. He should have known
that such Accidents were incident to such an Undertaking: which
though both a useful and heroic office, was yet none of the
cleanliest; since no Man, I believe, ever removed great quantities
of Dirt from any Place without finding some of it sticking to his
skirts." Such dirty clods were undoubtedly thrown by nameless
antagonists, as unworthy of Fielding's steel as was one whose name
has come down to us, the despicable Dr John Hill, who once suffered
a public caning at Ranelagh; and one clod, "more filthy perhaps
than all the rest," soiled the hands of <a name=
"fnref15-2">Smollett</a>. <a class="footnote" href="#fn15-2">2</a>
But the dirt which was very freely flung on to our
eighteenth-century Hercules has, by now, fallen back, with great
justice, on to the heads of his abusers. Fielding has placed on
record, in the <em>Journal</em>, his conviction that the man who
reads the works of the five heroic satirists, Lucian, Cervantes,
Swift, Moliere and Shakespeare, "must either have a very bad Head,
or a very bad Heart, if he doth not become both a Wiser and a
better Man." To-day, 'party and prejudice' having subsided, we are
ready to say the same of the readers of the <em>Covent Garden
Journal</em>; perceiving that, if <em>Mr Censor</em>, like his five
great forerunners, chose to send his satire "laughing into the
World," it was that he might better effect the 'glorious Purpose'
announced in the fifth number of his paper: "However vain or
romantic the Attempt may seem, I am sanguine enough to aim at
serving the noble Interests of Religion, Virtue, and good Sense, by
these my Lucubrations."</p>

<p>To most men the production, twice a week, of a newspaper so wide
in scope as the <em>Covent Garden Journal</em> (for its columns
included the news of the day, as well as the manifold 'censorial'
energies of <em>Sir Alexander</em>) would have been occupation
enough; especially with a "constitution now greatly impaired and
enfeebled," and when "labouring under attacks of the gout, which
were, of course, severer than ever."</p>

<p>But there is no hint of either editorial or valetudinarian
seclusion in the fragmentary glimpses obtainable of Mr Justice
Fielding during these eleven months of 1752. Thus, by an
advertisement recurring throughout the <em>Journal</em>, he
expressly invites to his house in Bow Street, "All Persons, who
shall for the Future suffer by Robbers Burglars &amp;c.," that they
may bring him "the best Description they can of such Robbers,
&amp;c., with the Time, and Place, and Circumstances of the Fact";
and that this invitation was likely to bring half London within his
doors appears from Fielding's own description of the condition of
the capital at the time. "There is not a street," he declares,
speaking of Westminster, "which doth not swarm all day with
beggars, and all night with thieves. Stop your coach at what shop
you will, however expeditious the tradesman is to attend you, a
beggar is commonly beforehand with him; and if you should directly
face his door the tradesman must often turn his head while you are
talking to him, or the same beggar, or some other thief at hand
will pay a visit to his shop!" And nothing could prove more
conclusively the arduousness of Fielding's work as a magistrate
than the record of the last ten days of January, 1752. On the night
of the 17th a peculiarly brutal murder had been perpetrated on a
poor higgler in Essex; and the <em>Journal</em> for January 28,
tells us how Fielding "spent near eight hours," examining,
separately, suspected persons, "at the desire of several gentlemen
of Fortune in the County of Essex"; having on the previous Friday
and Saturday, been engaged "above Twenty hours in taking
Depositions concerning this Fact." Then, on the day after the
arrival of the murder suspects, we find two of the Shoreditch
constables bringing no fewer than ten "idle lewd and disorderly"
men and women before the Justice; a woman was charged by a diamond
seller on suspicion of feloniously receiving "three Brilliant
Diamonds"; Mr Welch, the notable High Constable of Holborn, brought
seventeen "idle and lewd Persons" whom he had apprehended the night
before; and, to complete this single day's work, an Italian was
brought in, "all over covered with [the] Blood" of a brother
Italian, whose head he had almost cut off. Twenty-nine cases on one
day, and these in the midst of eight hour examinations concerning a
murder, were surely work enough to satisfy even Fielding's
energies. And, as another entry in his <em>Journal</em> mentions
the examination of a suspected thief "very late at Night," there
seems to have been no hour out of the twenty-four in which the
great novelist did not hold himself at the service of the
public.</p>

<p>Meanwhile, the criminal licence of the streets was now receiving
Ministerial attention. The King's Speech, delivered at the opening
of Parliament in the previous November, had contained a passage
which might have been inspired by Fielding himself: "I cannot
conclude," said His Majesty, "without recommending to you in the
most earnest manner, to consider seriously of some effectual
provisions to suppress those audacious crimes of Robbery and
Violence which are now become so frequent...and which have
proceeded in great Measure from that profligate Spirit of
Irreligion, Idleness, Gaming, and Extravagance, which has of late
extended itself in an uncommon degree, to the Dishonour of the
Nation, and to the great Offence and Prejudice of the sober and
industrious Part of the People." Six weeks later the first number
of the <em>Journal</em>, makes comment on the need of fresh
legislation to suppress drunkenness; and on the twenty first of the
month <em>Sir Alexander</em> announces, with something of special
information in his tone, that the immediate suppression of crimes
of violence "we can with Pleasure assure the Public is at present
the chief attention of Parliament."</p>

<p>It must have been with something of the pleasure which he so
earnestly desires in one of the last utterances of his pen--"the
pleasure of thinking that, in the decline of my health and life, I
have conferred a great and lasting Benefit on my Country,"--that
Fielding saw the royal assent given, in the following March, to an
Act for the "<em>better preventing Thefts and Robberies and for
regulating Places of Public Entertainment, and punishing Persons
keeping disorderly <a name="fnref15-3">Houses</a>.</em>" <a class=
"footnote" href="#fn15-3">3</a> For this Act is directed to the
suppression of four of the abuses so strongly denounced, twelve
months previously, in his own <em>Enquiry</em>; and when we recall
the fact that he had already submitted, to the Lord Chancellor,
draft legislation for the suppression of robberies, it is at least
a plausible surmise that here we have a memorial of Henry
Fielding's patriotic energy, preserved on the pages of the Statute
Book <a name="fnref15-4">itself</a>. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fn15-4">4</a> The four points so specially urged in the
<em>Enquiry</em>, and here made law, are the suppression of the
"multitude of places of Entertainment" for the working classes; the
better suppression of Gaming Houses; the punishment of the
scandalous advertisements offering rewards 'and no questions asked'
for stolen goods; and the payment of certain prosecutors for their
expenses in time and trouble, when a conviction had been
obtained.</p>

<p>In this same month of March another Act, which closely concerned
Fielding's official work, received the royal assent. This was an
Act "for better preventing the horrid Crime of <a name=
"fnref15-5">Murder</a>." <a class="footnote" href="#fn15-5">5</a>
The pressing need of such a measure had been already urged in the
<em>Covent Garden journal</em>. In February the <em>Journal</em>
declares that <em>"More shocking Murders have been committed within
the last Year, than for many Years before. To what can this be so
justly imputed as to the manifest decline of Religion among the
lower People. A matter, which even, in a Civil Sense, demands the
attention of the Government."</em> And Mr Censor returns to the
subject on March 3: <em>"More Murders and horrid Barbarities have
been committed within the last twelvemonth, than during many
preceding years. This as we have before observed, is principally to
be attributed to the Declension of Religion among the Common
People."</em> By the end of the month the above-named Act had
received the royal assent; and the first clause thereof again
yielded Fielding the satisfaction of seeing a measure which he had
warmly recommended in his Enquiry now placed on the Statute Book,
namely the clause that the execution of the criminal be made
immediate on his conviction. This Act, moreover, provides for the
abatement of another scandal exposed by Fielding many years
previously, in the pages of Jonathan Wild, that of the excessive
supply of drink allowed to condemned prisoners.</p>

<p>In the following month Fielding carried out a scheme, conceived
he tells us "some time since," for combating this prevalence of
murder. This was his shilling pamphlet, published about April 14,
entitled "Examples of the Interposition of Providence in the
<em>Detection</em> and <em>Punishment</em> of MURDER. Containing
above thirty cases, in which this dreadful crime hath been brought
to light in the most extraordinary and miraculous manner." The
advertisement describes the <em>Examples</em> as <em>"very proper
to be given to all the inferior Kind of People; and particularly to
the Youth of both sexes, whose natural Love of Stories will lead
them to read with Attention what cannot fail of Infusing in to
their tender Minds an early Dread and Abhorrence of staining their
Hands with the Blood of their Fellow-creatures"</em> Low as was the
price, a "large allowance" was made by Andrew Millar to those who
bought any quantity; and Fielding distributed the little volume
freely in Court.</p>

<p>The thirty-three <em>Examples</em> are introduced and concluded
by Fielding's own denunciation of this, "the blackest sin, which
can contaminate the hands, or pollute the soul of man." And from
these pages we may learn his own solemnly declared belief in a
peculiarly "immediate interposition of the Divine providence" in
the detection of this crime; and also his faith in "the fearful and
tremendous sentence of eternal punishment" as that divinely
allotted to the murderer. He warns the murderer, moreover, that by
hurrying a fellow-creature to a sudden and unprepared death he may
be guilty of destroying not only his victim's body, but also his
soul. And it may be questioned whether Fielding ever put his
unrivalled mastery of style to a nobler intention than in the
closing words of this pamphlet, words designed to be read by the
lowest of the people: "Great courage may, perhaps, bear up a bad
mind (for it is sometimes the property of such) against the most
severe sentence which can be pronounced by the mouth of a human
judge; but where is the fortitude which can look an offended
Almighty in the face? Who can bear the dreadful thought of being
confronted with the spirit of one whom we have murdered, in the
presence of all the Host of Heaven, and to have justice demanded
against our guilty soul, before that most awful judgement-seat,
where there is infinite justice as well as infinite power?"</p>

<p>The dedication of this pamphlet, dated Bow Street, April 8,
1752, is addressed to Dr Madox, Bishop of Worcester, and in it
Fielding recalls a conversation he had some time previously had
with that prelate, in which he had mentioned the plan of such a
book, and received immediate encouragement from his lordship. A
further appreciation of the <em>Examples</em> appears in a
paragraph in the <em>Journal</em> for May 5: "Last week a certain
Colonel of the Army bought a large number of the book called
<em>Examples of the Interposition of Providence in the Detection
and Punishment of Murder</em>, in Order to distribute them amongst
the private soldiers of his Regiment. An Example well worthy of
Imitation!"</p>

<p>Fielding never allows us to forget for any length of time one or
another of his contrasting activities, however absorbed he may seem
to be in some one field of action. Now, when he is plunged in a
hand-to-hand struggle with the criminal conditions of London, when
he is admonishing the gayer end of the Town with his weekly
censorial satire and ridicule, and while he is watching the
enactment of new legislation for which he had so strenously
pleaded,--he suddenly reappears in his earlier rôle of classical
scholar. On June 17, the columns of the <em>Journal</em> advertise
proposals for "A New Translation into English of the Works of
LUCIAN. From the original Greek. With Notes, Historical, Critical
and Explanatory. By Henry Fielding Esquire; and the Rev. Mr William
Young." To which notice there is added, a few days later, the
assurance that "Everything which hath the least Tendency to the
Indecent will be omitted in this Translation." The most delightful,
perhaps, of all the leading articles in the <em>Covent Garden
Journal</em> is that in which the merits of this "Father of True
Humour" are delineated. The facetious wit, the "attic Elegance of
Diction," the poignant satire, the virtues and abilities of Lucian
are here so persuasively presented that scarce a reader but surely
would hasten, as he laid his paper down, to Mr Fielding's or Mr
Young's house, or to Millar in the Strand or Dodsley in Pall Mall,
where orders (with a guinea to be paid on booking the same) were
received. And this essay is also memorable for the express
declaration therein contained that Fielding had "formed his stile"
upon that of Lucian; and, again, as betraying a note of
disappointment, an acknowledgment that worldly fortune had indeed
treated him somewhat harshly, such as Fielding's sanguine courage
very seldom permits him to utter. The concluding words, written on
his own behalf and on that of Mr Young, are words of gentle protest
to the public for their lack of support to "two gentlemen who have
hitherto in their several capacities endeavoured to be serviceable
to them without deriving any great Emolument to themselves from
their Labours." And when he tells us how that 'glory of human
Nature, Marcus Aurelius' employed Lucian "in a very considerable
Post in the Government," since that great emperor "did not, it
seems, think, that a Man of Humour was below his Notice or unfit
for Business of the gravest Kind," we cannot but remember that the
business on which the Government of George II. thought fit to
employ the inimitable genius of Henry Fielding was that of a Bow
Street magistrate.</p>

<p>The onerous drudgery of that business, or else lack of response
from a public deaf to its own interests, seems to have brought to
nothing the project of this translation; and so English literature
is the poorer for the loss of the works of the 'Father of Humour'
translated by the incomparable pen of the 'Father of the English <a
name="fnref15-6">Novel</a>.' <a class="footnote" href=
"#fn15-6">6</a></p>

<p>Four months after the publication of the proposals for
<em>Lucian</em>, Fielding took formal leave of the readers of his
<em>Covent Garden Journal</em>, telling them that he no longer had
"Inclination or Leisure," to carry on the paper. His brief farewell
words contain an assurance very like that solemnly made, we may
remember, five years before the publication of <em>Tom Jones</em>.
At present, he declares, he has "No intention to hold any further
correspondence with the gayer Muses"; just as eight years before he
had announced that henceforth the 'infamous' Nine should have none
of his company. To this declaration is added a protest against the
injustice of attributing abuse to a writer who "never yet was, nor
ever shall be the author of any, unless to Persons who are or ought
to be infamous." From the tenor of this parting speech it is clear
that Fielding was, at the time, feeling keenly the imputation,
flung by some of his contemporaries, of producing 'scandalous
Writings'; unmindful for the moment of his own calmer and wiser
utterance, when he declared that men who engage in an heroic
attempt to cleanse their age will undoubtedly find some of the dirt
thereof sticking to their coats. "As he disdained all littleness of
spirit, where ever he met with it in his dealings with the world,
his indignation was apt to rise," says his contemporary Murphy; and
we know from earlier protests how cruelly Fielding suffered from
the attribution to his pen of writings utterly alien to his
character. "...really," he cries, in the last words of the
<em>Journal</em>, "it is hard to hear that scandalous Writings have
been charged on me for that very Reason which ought to have proved
the Contrary namely because they have been Scandalous."</p>

<p>The year 1752 closes with the birth of another daughter, born
presumably in the house in Bow Street, as her baptism under the
name of Louisa is entered in the registers of St Paul's, Covent
Garden.</p>

<p>The curtain that, in Fielding's case, hangs so closely over all
the pleasant intimate details of life, lifts once or twice during
this year of incessant activity, and discloses just those
warmhearted acts of kindness that help us to think of Harry
Fielding with an affection almost as warm and personal as that we
keep for Dick Steele or Oliver Goldsmith. Fielding, we know, had
"no other use for money" than to help those even less fortunate
than himself; and several incidents of this year show how he turned
his opportunities, both as journalist and magistrate, to like
generous uses. Thus there is the story of how, one day in March, "A
poor girl who had come from Wapping to see the new entertainment at
Covent Garden Theatre had her pocket cut off in the crowd before
the doors were opened. Tho' she knew not the Pickpocket she came
immediately to lay her complaint before the Justice and with many
tears lamented not the loss of her Money, but of her Entertainment.
At last, having obtained a sufficient Passport to the Gallery she
departed with great satisfaction, and contented with the loss of
fourteen shillings, though she declared she had not much more in
the <a name="fnref15-7">world</a>." <a class="footnote" href=
"#fn15-7">7</a> Another day, or night rather, it is a poor troup of
amateur players who had good reason to be grateful to the kindly
Justice:--"last Monday night an Information was given to Henry
Fielding Esquire: that a set of Barber's apprentices, Journeymen
Staymakers, Maidservants &amp;c. had taken a large room at the
Black House in the Strand, to act the Tragedy of the Orphan; the
Price of Admittance One shilling. About eight o'clock the said
Justice issued his Warrant, directed to Mr Welch, High Constable,
who apprehended the said Actors and brought them before the said
Justice, who out of compassion to their Youth only bound them over
to their good behaviour. They were all conducted through the
streets in their Tragedy Dresses, to the no small diversion of the
<a name="fnref15-8">Populace</a>." <a class="footnote" href=
"#fn15-8">8</a> And in May both the ample energies and scanty purse
of Justice Fielding were occupied in collecting a subscription for
a young baker and his wife and child, who, by a disastrous fire,
were suddenly plunged into destitution. For these poor people
Fielding obtained no less a sum than £57, within a fortnight of his
announcement of their distress in the columns of the
<em>Journal</em>. The list of subscribers, published on May 16,
shows a guinea against his own name, and a like sum, it may be
noted, from the wealthy Lyttelton.</p>

<p class="centered"><a name="i364"><img src="images/364.jpg" alt=
"Henry Fielding" width="290" height="500"></a></p>

<p>The splendour of Fielding's genius has shone, as Gibbon
foretold, throughout the world. His indefatigable labours in
cleansing England from some of the evils that then oppressed her
deserve to be remembered, if not by all the world, at least by the
citizens of that country which, in the decline of 'health and
life,' he yet strove so eagerly to benefit.</p>

<h2><a name="chapter16">CHAPTER XVI</a><br>
<br>
POOR LAW REFORM</h2>

<p class="quoted">"... surely there is some Praise due to the bare
Design of doing a Service to the Public."<br>
 &nbsp;&nbsp;--Dedication of the <em>Enquiry</em>.</p>

<p>It is evident that the beginning of the year 1753 found Fielding
fully conscious that now he could only anticipate a 'short
remainder of life.' But neither that consciousness, nor the
increasing burden of ill-health, availed to dull the energies of
these last years. Scarcely had that indomitable knight, General Sir
Alexander Drawcansir retired from the active public service of
conducting the <em>Covent Garden Journal</em> when his creator
reappeared with an astonishingly comprehensive and detailed plan of
poor-law reform; a plan adapted to the whole kingdom, and which
according to a legal comment involved "nothing less than the repeal
of the Act of Elizabeth and an entire reconstruction of the Poor <a
name="fnref16-1">Laws</a>." <a class="footnote" href=
"#fn16-1">1</a> Poor-law reform was at this time occupying the
attention of the nation, and apparently also of the legislature.
And we know, from the <em>Enquiry into the Increase of
Robberies</em>, that the question of lessening both the sufferings
and the criminality of the poor had for years occupied Fielding's
warm heart and active intellect. But the extent to which he devoted
these last months of his life to the cause of the poorest and most
degraded deserves more than a passing recognition. He tells us, in
the <em>Introduction</em> to the pamphlet embodying his great
scheme, that he has applied himself long and constantly to this
subject; that he has "read over and considered all the Laws, in
anywise relating to the Poor, with the utmost Care and Attention,"
in the execution of which, moreover, he has been for "many Years
very particularly concerned"; and that in addition to this
exhaustive study of the laws themselves, he has added "a careful
Perusal of everything which I could find that hath been written on
this Subject, from the Original Institution in the 43d. of
<em>Elizabeth</em> to this Day." Such was the laborious
preparation, extending presumably over many months, which the
author of <em>Tom Jones</em>, and the first wit of his day, devoted
to solving this vast problem of social reform.</p>

<p>Fielding was far too well skilled in the art of effective
construction to present the public with undigested note-books from
his voluminous reading. His scheme, based on all the laws, and upon
all the comments on all the laws, regarding the poor, enacted and
made for two hundred years, is a marvel of conciseness and
practical detail; and, together with an <em>Introduction</em> and
an <em>Epilogue</em>, does but occupy the ninety pages of a
two-shilling pamphlet.</p>

<p>The pamphlet was published at the end of January 1753, with the
title <em>A Proposal for making an effectual Provision for the
Poor, for amending their Morals, and for rendering them useful
Members of the Society. To which is added a Plan of the Buildings
proposed, with proper Elevations ... By Henry Fielding, Esq.;
Barrister-at-Law, and one of His Majesty's Justices of the Peace
for the County of Middlesex</em>. The dedication, dated January 19,
is to Henry Pelham, then Chancellor of the Exchequer, and from it
we learn that Fielding had personally mentioned his scheme to this
Minister. The Introduction presents an eloquent appeal for some
effectual remedy for the intolerably diseased state of the body
politic as regarded the distresses and vices of the poor, their
unseen sufferings no less than their frequent misdeeds. Fielding
protests against the popular ignorance of these sufferings in words
that might have been spoken by some pleader for the East End
'Settlements' of to-day. "If we were," he declares, "to make a
Progress through the Outskirts of this Town, and look into the
Habitations of the Poor, we should there behold such Pictures of
human Misery as must move the Compassion of every Heart that
deserves the Name of human. What indeed must be his Composition who
could see whole Families in Want of every Necessary of Life,
oppressed with Hunger, Cold, Nakedness, and Filth, and with
Diseases, the certain Consequence of all these; what, I say, must
be his Composition, who could look into such a Scene as this, and
be affected only in his Nostrils?" As an instance of Fielding's
personal knowledge of the London slums of his day, a reference made
by Mr Saunders Welch to their joint work is of interest. Writing in
the same year, 1753, he mentions assisting "Mr Henry Fielding in
taking from under one roof upwards of seventy lodgers of both <a
name="fnref16-2">sexes</a>." <a class="footnote" href=
"#fn16-2">2</a></p>

<p>To this little known misery of the poor, who "starve and freeze
and rot among themselves," was added the problem of streets
swarming with beggars during the day, and with thieves at night.
And the nation groaned under yet a third burden, that of the heavy
taxes levied for the poor, by which says Fielding "as woeful
experience hath taught us, neither the poor themselves nor the
public are relieved." To attack such a three-headed monster as this
was an adventure better fitted, it might seem, for that club which
"Captain Hercules Vinegar" had wielded thirteen years before, when
in the full tide of his strength, than for the pen of a man in
shattered health, and already serving the public in the daily
labours of a principal magistrate. But nothing could restrain the
ardour of Fielding's spirit, how frail so ever had become its
containing 'crust of clay,' when great abuses and great misery made
their call on his powers; or countervail against the hope, with
which the <em>Introduction</em> to his plan concludes. If that plan
fails, he shall indeed, he declares have "lost much Time, and
misemployed much Pains; and what is above all, shall miss the
Pleasure of thinking that in the Decline of my Health and Life, I
have conferred a great and lasting Benefit on my Country."</p>

<p>The <em>Plan</em> is that of the erection of a vast combined
county workhouse, prison, and infirmary; where the unemployed
should find, not only work but <em>skilled instruction</em>, the
poor relief, and the sick a hospital; where discipline and good
order should be stringently enforced; and where two chaplains
should labour at that 'correction and amendment' of the mind which
"in real truth religion is alone capable of effectually executing."
The entire scheme is worked out with extraordinary detail, in
fifty-nine clauses; and is preceded by an elaborate architectural
plan of the proposed institution (which was to house no less than
five thousand six hundred persons) with its workshops, its men's
quarters rigorously divided from those for the women, its
recreation ground, its provision shops, its cells for the
refractory and for prisoners, and its whipping post. And the
pamphlet concludes by lengthy arguments in favour of the various
clauses; and by a personal protest concerning the disinterestedness
of proposals which "some few enemies" might assert to show signs of
a design for private profit. Fielding touchingly disavows any
thought of occupying, officially, the great house raised by his
imagination. To a man in his state of health such a project would,
he says, be to fly in the face of the advice of his 'Master,'
Horace; "it would be indeed <em>struere dotnos immemor
sepulchri.</em>" And, he adds, those who know him will hardly be so
deceived "by that Chearfulness which was always natural to me; and
which, I thank God, my Conscience doth not reprove me for, to
imagine that I am not sensible of my declining Constitution." The
concluding words of this, Fielding's last legislative effort,
betray a like calm assurance that his day's work was drawing to its
close. He has now, he tells us, "no farther Design than to pass my
short Remainder of Life in some Degree of Ease, and barely to
preserve my Family from being the Objects of any such Laws as I
have here proposed."</p>

<p>It is wholly in keeping with the genius of Henry Fielding that
almost the last endeavour of his intellect should have been devoted
to relieving the wretchedness and lessening the vices of the
poorest and most miserable of his countrymen. The <em>Proposal for
... the Poor</em> is written by the hand of the accomplished lawyer
and indefatigable magistrate; but the energy that accomplished so
great a labour, in spite of broken health and among a thousand
interruptions, sprang from the heart which had already immortalised
the ragged postilion of <em>Joseph Andrews</em> and the starving
highwayman of <em>Tom Jones</em>.</p>

<p>This last January but one of Fielding's life was not only
occupied by the publication of proposals for an 'entire
reconstruction of the Poor Laws.' In 1753 a London magistrate, or
at least Mr Justice Fielding, was at the service of the public on
Sunday no less than during the week; and on the first Sunday of the
New Year the Bow Street room echoed to threats that read strangely
enough when we think of the unknown petty thief, threatening sudden
death to 'our immortal Fielding.' "Yesterday," says the <em>General
Advertiser</em> for Monday, January 8, "John Simpson and James
Ellys were commited to Newgate by Henry Fielding Esq., for
shop-lifting." The charge was one of stealing five silk
handkerchiefs, and when the two men "were brought before the
Justice they behaved in a very impudent saucy manner, and one of
them said hewished he had a Pistol about him, he would blow the
Justice's Brains out; upon which a Party of the Guards was sent for
who conducted them safe to Newgate." The Bow Street house,
moreover, must have been full not only of prisoners and witnesses
brought before the Justice, but also of victims of all manner of
theft. For two comprehensive notices appear in the
<em>Advertiser</em> for this month, repeating the previous
invitation accorded to such sufferers in the <em>Covent Garden
Journal</em>. On January 1, all persons cognizant of any burglary
robbery or theft are desired to communicate immediately with Mr
Brogden, clerk to Justice Fielding, "at his office at the said
Justice's in Bow Street." And again, towards the end of the month,
"All Persons that have been robbed on the Highway in the County of
Middlesex within this three months last past, are desired to apply
to Mr Brogden, at Mr Justice Fielding's in Bow Street, Covent
Garden." And here, too, came the solicitors that sought counsel's
opinion on their client's behalf, with their fees; the magistrate
of this period being under no disability in regard to his private
practice.</p>

<p>It was to his reputation as an advising barrister, and perhaps a
little to the kindness of heart that must have been familiar to all
who knew him, that Fielding owed his connection with that
extraordinary popular excitement of 1753, the mysterious case of
the servant girl Elizabeth Canning. On the 29th of January 'Betty
Canning' presented herself, after a month's disappearance, at the
door of her mother's house in London, in a deplorable state of
weakness and distress, and declared that she had been kidnapped by
two men on New Year's night, taken to a house on the Hertford road,
and there confined by an old gipsy woman for twenty-eight days, in
a hay loft, with a pitcher of water and a few pieces of bread for
sole sustenance. On the twenty ninth day, according to her own
account, she escaped through a window and made her way back to her
home. Her neighbours, fired with pity for her sufferings,
subscribed means for a prosecution; and, says Fielding, in the
pamphlet which he published two months after these events, "Mr.
<em>Salt</em>, the Attorney who hath been employed in this Cause,
... upon this Occasion, as he hath done upon many others, ... fixed
upon me as the Council to be advised with." Then we have the
following little domestic sketch, the only picture left to us of
Henry Fielding as a practising barrister: "Accordingly, upon the
6<em>th</em> of <em>February</em>, as I was sitting in my Room,
Counsellor <em>Maden</em> being then with me, my Clerk delivered me
a Case, which was thus, as I remember, indorsed at the Top, The
Case of Elizabeth Canning <em>for</em> Mr Fielding's
<em>opinion</em>, and at the Bottom, <em>Salt</em>, Solr. Upon the
Receipt of this Case, with my Fee, I bid my Clerk give my Service
to Mr. <em>Salt</em> and tell him, that I would take the Case with
me into the Country, whither I intended to go the next Day, and
desired he would call for it the <em>Friday</em> Morning
afterwards; after which, without looking into it, I delivered it to
my Wife, who was then drinking Tea with us, and who laid it
by."</p>

<p>Mr Brogden however presently returned upstairs, bringing the
solicitor with him, who earnestly desired his counsel not only to
read the case at once but also to undertake in his capacity of
magistrate an examination of the injured girl, and of a supposed
confederate of the gipsy. This task Fielding at first declined,
principally on the ground that he had been "almost fatigued to
death with several tedious examinations" at that time, and had
intended to refresh himself with a day or two's interval in the
country, where he had not been "unless on a Sunday, for a long
time." The persuasions of the solicitor, curiosity as to the
extrordinary nature of the case, and "a great compassion for the
dreadful condition of the girl," however induced him to yield; and
the next day the eighteen year old heroine of a story that was soon
to set all London quarrelling, was brought in a chair to Bow
Street, and then led upstairs, supported by two friends, into the
presence of the Justice. An issue of warrants followed upon her
examination, and a further examination of a suspected confederate
of the gipsy; the gipsy herself and her chief abettor having
already been arrested by another magistrate. Some days later,
Fielding being then out of town, "several noble Lords" sent to his
house, desiring to be present while he examined the gipsy woman;
and the matter being arranged, "Lord Montfort," says Fielding,
"together with several gentlemen of fashion came at the appointed
time." The company being in the Justice's room, the prisoners and
witnesses were brought up; and apparently some charge was
afterwards brought against Fielding as to the manner of his
examination, for he here takes occasion to declare, what all who
knew him must have known to be the truth, "I can truly say, that my
Memory doth not charge me with having ever insulted the lowest
Wretch that hath been brought before me." Public opinion became
hotly divided as to whether Betty Canning had indeed suffered all
she declared at the hands of the gipsy, Mary Squires, or had
maliciously endeavoured to perjure away the old woman's life. The
Lord Mayor, Sir Crisp Gascoyne, and Fielding's old antagonist the
despicable Dr Hill ardently supported the gipsy; Fielding, in the
pamphlet already quoted, and which was published in March, as
warmly espoused the cause of the maid servant whom he calls "a
poor, honest, innocent, simple Girl, and the most unhappy and most
injured of all human Beings." The excitement of the Town over this
melodramatic mystery is reflected in the fact that a second edition
of Fielding's pamphlet (entitled <em>A clear state of the Case of
Elizabeth Canning</em>) was advertised within a few days of its
first <a name="fnref16-3">publication</a>. <a class="footnote"
href="#fn16-3">3</a> And, also, in the appearance of the sixpenny
print, here for the first time reproduced, in which occurs the only
representation of Henry Fielding known to have been drawn during
his life time. This print, which bears the inscription "drawn from
the life by the Right Honourable the Lady Fa--y K--w," shows
Fielding's tall figure, his legs bandaged for gout, the sword of
Justice in his hand and her scales hanging out of his pocket,
speaking on behalf of his trembling client Elizabeth Canning; while
opposed to him are my Lord Mayor, the notorious Dr Hill, and the
old gipsy. The background is adorned with pictures of the newly
built Mansion House, and of the College of <a name=
"fnref16-4">Surgeons</a>. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fn16-4">4</a></p>

<p class="centered"><a name="i365"><img src="images/365.jpg" alt=
"Henry Fielding, defending Betty Canning from her accusers, the Lord Mayor, Dr Hill, and the Gipsy"
 width="610" height="520"></a></p>

<p>But for the glimpses it affords us of Fielding as a barrister,
and for his characteristic championship of what he was convinced
was the cause of innocence oppressed, this once famous case might
have been left undisturbed in the dust of the <em>State
Trials</em>, had it not incidentally been the means of preserving
two of the extremely rare letters of the novelist. These <a name=
"fnref16-5">letters</a>, <a class="footnote" href="#fn16-5">5</a>
hitherto unpublished, are addressed by Fielding to the Duke of
Newcastle, and were both written in the month following the
publication of his pamphlet. The fact that both letters are dated
from Ealing shows that his connection with what was then a pleasant
country village was earlier than has been supposed; and the acute
suggestions in the second letter seem to indicate a suspicion of
some of Betty Canning's supporters, if his conviction in the girl's
own innocence still remained unshaken.<br>
</p>

<p>"My Lord Duke</p>

<p>"I received an order from my Lord Chancellor immediately after
the breaking up of the Council to lay before your Grace all the
Affidavits I had taken since the Gipsey's Trial which related to
that Affair. I then told the Messenger that I had taken none, as
indeed the fact is the Affidavits of which I gave my Lord
Chancellor an Abstract having been all sworn before Justices of the
Peace in the Neighbourhood of Endfield, and remain I believe in the
Possession of an Attorney in the City.</p>

<p>However in Consequence of the Commands with which your Grace was
pleased to honour me yesterday, I sent my Clerk immediately to the
Attorney to acquaint him with these Commands, which I doubt not he
will instantly obey. This I did from my great Duty to your Grace
for I have long had no Concern in this Affair, nor have I seen any
of the Parties lately unless once when I was desired to send for
the Girl (Canning) to my House that a great Number of Noblemen and
Gentleman might see her and ask her what Questions they pleased. I
am, with the highest Duty,</p>

<p>"My Lord,<br>
"Your Graces most obedient<br>
"and most humble servant<br>
"Henry Ffielding.<br>
"Ealing. April 14, 1753<br>
"His Grace the<br>
"Duke of Newcastle."</p>

<p><br>
</p>

<p>"My Lord Duke,</p>

<p>"I am extremely concerned to see by a Letter which I have just
received from Mr Jones by Command of your Grace that the Persons
concerned for the Prosecution have not yet attended your Grace with
the Affidavits in Canning's Affair. I do assure you upon my Honour
that I sent to them the Moment I first received your Grace's
Commands and having after three Messages prevailed with them to
come to me I desired them to fetch the Affidavits that I might send
them to your Grace being not able to wait upon you in Person. This
they said they could not do, but would go to Mr Hume Campbell their
Council, and prevail with him to attend your Grace with all their
Affidavits many of which, I found were sworn after the Day
mentioned in the order of Council. I told them I apprehended the
latter could not be admitted, but insisted in the strongest terms
on their laying the others immediately before your Grace, and they
at last promised me they would, nor have I ever seen them since. I
have now again ordered my Clerk to go to them to inform them of the
last Commands I have received, but as I have no Compulsory Power
over them I can not answer for their Behaviour, which indeed I have
long disliked, and have therefore long ago declined giving them any
Advice, nor would I unless in Obedience to your Grace have anything
to say to a set of the most obstinate Fools I ever saw; and who
seem to me rather to act from a Spleen against my Lord Mayor, than
from any Motive of protecting Innocence, tho' that was certainly
their Motive at first. In Truth, if I am not deceived, I Suspect
they desire that the Gipsey should be pardoned, and then to
convince the World that she was guilty in order to cast the greater
Reflection on him who was principally instrumental in obtaining
such Pardon. I conclude with assuring your Grace that I have acted
in this Affair, as I shall on all Occasions with the most dutiful
Regard to your Commands, and that if my Life had been at Stake, as
many know, I could have done no more.</p>

<p>"I am, with the highest Respect,<br>
"My Lord Duke<br>
"Y Grace's most obedient,<br>
"and most humble servant,<br>
"Henry Ffielding.<br>
"Ealing<br>
"April 27. 1753.<br>
"His Grace the Duke of Newcastle."</p>

<p>The dates of these letters show Fielding to have been at Ealing
in the early spring of this year; and thus afford some confirmation
of Lysons' remark in his <em>Environs of London</em>, published
forty years later that "Henry Fielding had a country house at
Ealing where he resided the year before his <a name=
"fnref16-6">death</a>." <a class="footnote" href="#fn16-6">6</a> In
May a connection with Hammersmith is indicated, in the burial there
of his little daughter Louisa. The entry in the Hammersmith
Registers is as follows: "May 10th. Louisa, d. of Henry Fielding
Esqr."</p>

<p>The nearer Fielding's life draws to its premature close, the
greater his physical suffering, so much the more eager seems his
desire to leave behind him some practical achievement. We have
already seen and wondered at his gigantic scheme for poor-law
reform, published in the beginning of this year of fast declining
'health and life.' Six months later came the commission in the
execution of which the remains of that health and life were
literally sacrificed in the effort to win some provision for his
family, in the event of his own death. Early in August the
distinguished Court surgeon John Ranby had persuaded him to go
immediately to Bath. And he tells us, in that <em>Journal of a
Voyage to <a name="fnref16-7">Lisbon</a>,</em> <a class="footnote"
href="#fn16-7">7</a> from which we have, from his own lips, the
details of these last months, "I accordingly writ that very night
to Mrs Bowden, who, by the next post, informed me she had taken me
a lodging for a month certain." At this moment, when preparing for
his journey, and while "almost fatigued to death with several long
examinations, relating to five different murders, all committed
within the space of a week, by different gangs of street robbers,"
Fielding received what might indeed be called a fatal summons to
wait on the Duke of Newcastle, at his house in Lincoln's Inn
Fields, to consult on a means for "putting an immediate end to
those murders and robberies which were every day committed in the
streets." This visit cost him a severe cold; but, notwithstanding,
he produced, in about four days, a scheme for the destruction of
the "then reigning gangs" of robbers and cut-throats, and for the
future protection of the public, which was promptly accepted, and
the execution of which was confided into Fielding's hands. "I had
delayed my Bath-journey for some time," he proceeds, "contrary to
the repeated advice of my physical acquaintance, and to the ardent
desire of my warmest friends, tho' my distemper was now turned to a
deep jaundice; in which case the Bath-waters are generally reputed
to be almost infallible. But I had the most eager desire of
demolishing this gang of villains and cut-throats." After some
weeks the requisite funds were placed at Fielding's disposal; and
so successful were his methods, that within a few days, the whole
gang was dispersed, some in custody, others in flight. His health
was by this time "reduced to the last extremity"; but still, he
tells us, he continued to act "with the utmost vigour against these
villains." And, amid all his 'fatigues and distresses,' the
satisfaction he so ardently desired came to him. During the
"remaining part of the month of November and in all December,"
those darkest of months, not only was there no such thing as a
murder, but not one street robbery was committed. When we recall
the amazing condition of London at this time, when street robberies
and murders were of almost daily occurrence, we realise the
magnitude of this achievement on the part of a dying man. "Having
thus fully accomplished my undertaking," Fielding continues, "I
went into the country in a very weak and deplorable condition, with
no fewer or less diseases than a jaundice, a dropsy, and an asthma,
altogether uniting their forces in the destruction of a body so
entirely emaciated, that it had lost all its muscular flesh." It
was now too late to apply the Bath treatment; and even had it been
desirable it was no longer possible, for the sick man's strength
was so reduced that a ride of six miles fatigued him intolerably.
The Bath lodgings, which Fielding, surely with his old invincible
hopefulness, had hitherto kept were accordingly relinquished; and
even his sanguine nature realised the desperate condition of his
case. At this point in his narration he breaks off with a
characteristically frank disclosure of the chief motive which had
inspired him to the heroic exertions of these later months of 1753.
At the beginning of the winter his private affairs it seems, "had
but a gloomy aspect." The aspect of his own tenure of life we know.
And hence to distress of body was added that keenest of all
distresses of the mind, the despair of putting his family beyond
the reach of necessity. It was gladly therefore that Fielding
offered up the 'poor sacrifice' of his shattered health, in the
hope of securing a pension for his family, in case his own death
were hastened by these last labours for the public.</p>

<p>If sickness was not allowed to hinder Fielding's energies for
the benefit of the public, and for the future provision of his
family, neither did he permit it to dull the activities of
friendship. Early in December, when his illness must have been
acute, he wrote the following hitherto unpublished letter to the
Lord Chancellor, on behalf of his friend Mr Saunders <a name=
"fnref16-8">Welch</a>: <a class="footnote" href="#fn16-8">8</a></p>

<p><br>
</p>

<p>"My Lord,</p>

<p>"As I hear that a new Commission of the Peace is soon to pass
the Great Seal for Westm'r. give me Leave to recommend the name of
Saunders Welch, as well as to the next Commission for Middx. Your
Lordship will, I hope, do me the Honour of believing, I should not
thus presume, unless I was well satisfied that the Merit of the Man
would justifie my Presumption. For this besides a universal Good
Character and the many eminent services he hath done the Public, I
appeal in particular to Master Lane; and shall only add, as I am
positive the Truth is, that his Place can be filled with no other
more acceptable to all the Gentlemen in the Commission, and indeed
to the Public in general. I am with the highest Duty and
Respect,</p>

<p>"My Lord,<br>
"Your Lordship's most obedient<br>
"and most humble servant,<br>
"Henry Ffielding."<br>
"Decr 6. 1753<br>
"To the Lord High Chancellor"</p>

<h2><a name="chapter17">CHAPTER XVII</a><br>
<br>
VOYAGE TO LISBON--DEATH</h2>

<p class="quoted">"satisfied in having finished my life, as I have
probably lost it in the service of my country."<br>
 &nbsp;&nbsp;<em>Journal of a Voyage to Lisbon</em>.</p>

<p>To a man dying of a complication of disorders the terrible
winter of 1753-4 brought added danger; a winter which, says
Fielding, "put a lucky end, if they had known their own interests,
to such numbers of aged and infirm valetudinarians." But this, too,
his splendid constitution struggled through; and in February 1754,
he was back in town, in a condition less despaired of, he tells us,
by himself than by any of his friends.</p>

<p>And if he did not allow himself to despair, neither did he, even
now, relinquish all his magistrate's work. On the 26th of February
cases are actually recorded as brought before <a name=
"fnref17-1">him</a>. <a class="footnote" href="#fn17-1">1</a> But
within a few days, apparently, of this date treatment employed on
the advice of Dr Joshua Ward, so weakened a body already 'enervate'
and emaciated, that at first the patient "was thought to be falling
into the agonies of death." On March 6, he was, he tells us, at his
worst--that "memorable day when the public lost Mr Pelham. From
that day I began slowly, as it were, to draw my feet out of the
grave; till in two months time I had again acquired some little
degree of strength."</p>

<p>Before the expiration of these two months that 'little degree of
strength' was again being expended in the drudgery of the Bow
Street court-room. "Yesterday," states the <em>Public
Advertiser</em> of April 17, "Elizabeth Smith was committed to
Newgate by Henry Fielding Esqre; being charged with stealing a
great quantity of <a name="fnref17-2">Linnen</a>." <a class=
"footnote" href="#fn17-2">2</a> And five days later, on April 22, a
committal is recorded in the Middlesex <em>Sessions <a name=
"fnref17-3">Book</a></em>. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fn17-3">3</a></p>

<p>Although Fielding could now leave his sickroom, when called
thence to commit a thief to Newgate, a newspaper paragraph, dated a
little earlier in this same month of April, shows that the public
were apprehensive that the protection afforded them by their
indefatigable magistrate was now of a very precarious duration. The
writer refers to the complete success of Mr Fielding's
<em>Plan</em> for the subjugation of criminals, executed the
previous winter, pointing out that "the Public who had such Reason
to suspect the contrary have suffered fewer Outrages than have
happened any Winter this Twenty years." And without making any
direct statement as to the fast failing strength of the author and
executor of that <em>Plan</em>, he continues in words that plainly
indicate the abdication of those zealous energies: "The whole Plan
we are assured is communicated to Justice John Fielding and Mr
Welch who are determined to bring it to that perfection of which it
is capable." This 'assurance' of the <em>Advertiser</em> is
confirmed by Fielding's own words in the <em>Voyage to Lisbon</em>.
"I therefore" he says, speaking clearly of the winter or spring of
1753-4, "resigned the office [of principal Justice of the Peace in
Westminster] and the farther execution of my plan to my brother,
who had long been my assistant."</p>

<p>This blind brother, who in his turn became famous as a London
magistrate, was now a Justice of the Peace for <a name=
"fnref17-4">Middlesex</a> <a class="footnote" href="#fn17-4">4</a>
as well as for Westminster; and was at this time living in the
Strand, as the Resident <a name="fnref17-5">Proprietor</a> <a
class="footnote" href="#fn17-5">5</a> of that enterprising
<em>Universal Register Office</em> which has won incidental
immortality in his brother's pages, and which combined such
heterogeneous activities as those of an Estate Office, Registry for
servants of good character, Lost Property Office, Curiosity Shop
and General Agency.</p>

<p>Another announcement in the columns of the <em>Advertiser</em>
links this last Spring of Fielding's life with that earlier Spring
of 1743, when as a popular play-wright and a struggling barrister,
absorbed in anxiety for the health of a beloved wife and with his
own health already attacked, he published that masterpiece of irony
<em>Jonathan Wild</em>. Now, while he was still slowly drawing his
'feet out of the grave,' after those critical first days of March,
a new edition of the <em>History</em> of that "Great Man," with
"considerable Corrections and Additions," was advertised; the
actual date of publication being, apparently, about March 19. The
new edition appeared with a prefatory note, "from the Publisher to
the Reader," which although it bears no signature conveys,
undoubtedly, Fielding's intention, if not his actual words. There
is the familiar protest against the "scurrility of others," the
odium of which had fallen on the innocent shoulders of "the author
of our little book"; and there is a solemn declaration that the
said little book shows no reason for supposing any 'personal
application' to be meant in its pages "unless we will agree that
there are without those Walls [i.e. of Newgate], some other bodies
of men of worse morals than those within; and who have
consequently, a right to change places with its present
inhabitants." Then follows an explicit reference to a chapter in
the <em>History</em> of the arch-villain Wild, which is obviously
designed to satirise the condition of English politics, if not the
person of any one politician. The disclaimer, seems on the whole,
to partake very properly of the ironic nature of the ensuing pages;
although it recalls that youthful declaration of the young
dramatist, prefixed to his first comedy acted nearly thirty years
before, that no private character was the target of his pen.</p>

<p>At the end of these two months of March and April, spent as we
have seen in acquiring some little degree of strength, and in at
least attempting to expend the same on the consignment of petty
thieves to Newgate, Fielding again submitted his dropsy to the
surgeon, the consequences of which he now bore much better. This
improvement, he tells us, he attributed greatly to "a dose of
laudanum prescribed by my surgeon. It first gave me the most
delicious flow of spirits, and afterwards as comfortable a nap."
Lady Mary Wortley Montagu has recorded how her cousin's 'happy
constitution,' even when half-demolished, could enjoy, with
undiminished zest "a venison pasty, or a flask of champagne."
Surely none other than Henry Fielding could have recorded with like
zest this 'delicious flow of spirits' and 'comfortable nap' derived
from a dose of laudanum.</p>

<p>The month of May, with its promise of relief from the still
lingering winter, had now begun. Fielding therefore resolved, he
says, to visit a little country house of his "which stands at
Ealing, in the county of Middlesex, in the best air, I believe, in
the whole <a name="fnref17-6">kingdom</a>." <a class="footnote"
href="#fn17-6">6</a> Towards the end of the month, he had resort to
a long forgotten eighteenth century panacea, the tar-water
discovered by Bishop Berkeley; and very soon experienced effects
far beyond his "most sanguine hopes." Success beyond Fielding's
most sanguine hopes must have been great indeed; and accordingly we
hear how this tar-water, from the very first, lessened his illness,
increased his appetite, and very slowly added to his bodily
strength. By the end of the month a third application by his
surgeon revealed distinctly favourable symptoms; but still both the
dropsy and the asthma were becoming more serious; and the summer,
which the doctors seemed to think the sick man's 'only chance of
life' seemed scarce likely to visit England at all in that sunless
year. "In the whole month of May the sun scarce appeared three
times" we learn, from the <em>Voyage</em>. Fearing therefore the
renewed assaults of winter, before he had recruited his forces so
as "to be in anywise able to withstand them," Fielding resolved,
with the approval of a very eminent physician, to put an already
formed project into immediate execution. This was to seek further
recovery in some warmer climate. At first Aix was thought of, but
here the difficulties of travel in the reign of George II. for
invalids of slender means, proved insuperable. The journey by land,
"beside the expense of it," Fielding found to be "infinitely too
long and fatiguing"; and no ship was announced as sailing within
'any reasonable time' for that part of the Mediterranean. Lisbon
accordingly was decided upon; and John Fielding soon discovered a
ship with excellent passenger accommodation, and which was due to
sail in three days. "I eagerly embraced the offer," writes
Fielding, as though he were starting on a pleasure cruise, instead
of facing all the miseries of travel, when unable to make the least
use of his limbs, and when his very appearance "presented a
spectacle of the highest horror"; and he adds "I began to prepare
my family for the voyage with the utmost expedition." Twice,
however, the captain put off his sailing, and at length his
passenger invited him to dinner at Ealing, a full week after the
declared date of departure. Meanwhile Fielding's condition seems at
least to have become no worse, for the <em>Public Advertiser</em>
of June 22 has "the pleasure to assure the Publick that the Report
of the Death of Henry Fielding Esquire; inserted in an Evening
paper of Thursday is not true, that Gentleman's Health being better
than it has been for some Month's past."</p>

<p class="centered"><a name="i366"><img src="images/366.jpg" alt=
"Justice Saunders Welch" width="332" height="500"></a></p>

<p>It was not till the 26th of June that, in the memorable opening
words of the <em>Voyage</em>, "the most melancholy sun I had ever
beheld arose, and found me awake at my house at Fordhook. By the
light of this sun, I was, in my own opinion, last to behold and
take leave of some of those creatures on whom I doated with a
mother-like fondness, guided by nature and passion, and uncured and
unhardened by all the doctrine of that philosophical school where I
had learnt to bear pains and to despise death." The morning was
spent with his children, the eldest of whom was then a boy of six;
and "I doubt not," he writes, "whether, in that time, I did not
undergo more than in all my distemper." At noon his coach was at
the door, and this "was no sooner told me than I kiss'd my children
round, and went into it with some little resolution." His wife,
behaving "more like a heroine and philosopher, tho' at the same
time the tenderest mother in the world," and his eldest daughter,
followed him; and the invalid was swiftly driven the twelve miles
to Rotherhithe. Here the task of embarking a man quite bereft of
the use of his limbs had to be accomplished. This difficulty was
overcome with the aid of Saunders Welch, the friend of whom
Fielding says "I never think or speak of but with love and <a name=
"fnref17-7">esteem</a>" <a class="footnote" href="#fn17-7">7</a>;
and, at last, the traveller was "seated in a great chair in the
cabin," after fatigues, the most cruel of which he declares to have
been the inhuman jests made upon his wasted and helpless condition
by the rows of sailors and watermen through whom he had been
compelled to pass.</p>

<p>From this moment we may read of the pleasures and thoughts, the
experiences and meditations, but scarcely ever of the sufferings of
the dying novelist, in the pages of what has been well called "one
of the most unfeigned and touching little tracts in our own or any
other <a name="fnref17-8">literature</a>" <a class="footnote" href=
"#fn17-8">8</a> Confined for six weeks in the narrow prison of an
eighteenth century trading vessel; unable to move save when lifted
by unskilled hands; with food often intolerable to the healthiest
appetite; with no relaxation save the company of the rough old
sea-dog who commanded the <em>Queen of Portugal;</em> and fully
conscious that his was a mortal illness,--the inexhaustible
courage, the delight in man and in nature, the genius of Henry
Fielding still triumphed over every external circumstance.
Throughout the voyage, fortune, moreover, seemed determined to heap
on the unhappy traveller all manner of additional discomforts; and
yet when we lay down this little volume "begun in pain, and
finished almost at the same period with <a name=
"fnref17-9">life</a>," <a class="footnote" href="#fn17-9">9</a> the
pictures left on the mind glow almost as brightly as those which
fill the pages written in the full vigour of Fielding's manhood,
and which, as Coleridge said, breathe the air of a spring
morning.</p>

<p>First came a delay of three days off the squalid shores of
Wapping and Rotherhithe, whereby opportunity was afforded of
"tasting a delicious mixture of the air of both these sweet
places," and of enjoying such a concord of the voices of seamen,
watermen, fishwomen, oyster women and their like as Hogarth
indicated "in that print of his which is enough to make a man deaf
to look at." This delay, moreover, threatened to bring Fielding
within need of a surgeon when none should be procurable. His friend
Mr William Hunter of Covent Garden, brother of the more famous John
Hunter, relieved this apprehension; but now fresh trouble occurred
in the torments of toothache which befell Mrs Fielding. A servant
was despatched in haste to Wapping, but the desired 'toothdrawer,'
arrived after the ship had at last, on Sunday morning, the 30th of
June, left her unsavoury moorings. That Sunday morning "was fair
and bright," and the diarist records how, dropping down to
Gravesend, "we had a passage thither I think as pleasant as can be
conceiv'd." The yards of Deptford and Woolwich were 'noble sights';
the Thames with its splendid shipping excelled all the rivers of
the world; and the men of war, the unrivalled Indiamen, the other
traders, and even the colliers and small craft, all combined to
form "a most pleasing object to the eye, as well as highly warming
to the heart of an Englishman, who has any degree of love for his
country, or can recognise any effect of the patriot in his
constitution." And here Fielding gives us a notable example of his
own healthy taste in recreation; a taste agreeing very ill with the
scurrilous popular myths concerning him, but entirely consonant
with the manifest atmosphere of his genius. He deplores the general
neglect of "what seems to me the highest degree of amusement: that
is, the sailing ourselves in little vessels of our own"; an
amusement which need not "exceed the reach of a moderate fortune,
and would fall very short of the prices which are daily paid for
pleasures of a far inferior rate."</p>

<p>Fortune, as we have said, seemed to grudge every little pleasure
that could have alleviated the condition of the helpless invalid on
board the <em>Queen of Portugal.</em> The relief obtained from Mr
Hunter, he tells us, "the gaiety of the morning, the pleasant
sailing with wind and tide, and the many agreeable objects with
which I was constantly entertained during the whole way, were all
suppressed and overcome by the single consideration of my wife's
pain, which continued incessantly to torment her." The second
despatch of a messenger, in great haste to bring the best reputed
operator in Gravesend recalls Murphy's words: "Of sickness and
poverty he was singularly patient and under pressure of those evils
he could quietly read <em>Cicero de Consolatione;</em> but if
either of them threatened his wife he was impetuous for her
relief." The remedies both of the Gravesend 'surgeon of some
eminence,' and of yet another practitioner, who was sent for from
Deal, were ineffectual; but about eight in the evening of the
following day, when the ship under contrary winds, was at anchor in
the Downs, Mrs Fielding fell asleep; and to that accident we owe
one of the most characteristic passages in the <em>Voyage.</em> His
wife's relief from pain would, Fielding tells us, "have given me
some happiness, could I have known how to employ those spirits
which were raised by it: but unfortunately for me, I was left in a
disposition of enjoying an agreeable hour, without the assistance
of a companion, which has always appeared to me necessary to such
enjoyment; my daughter and her companion were both retired sea-sick
to bed; the other passengers were a rude school boy of fourteen
years old, and an illiterate Portuguese friar, who understood no
language but his own, in which I had not the least smattering. The
captain was the only person left, in whose conversation I might
indulge myself; but unluckily for me, besides his knowledge being
chiefly confined to his profession, he had the misfortune of being
so deaf, that to make him hear my words, I must run the risque of
conveying them to the ears of my wife, who, tho' in another room
(called, I think, the state-room; being indeed a most stately
apartment capable of containing one human body in length, if not
very tall, and three bodies in breadth) lay asleep within a yard of
me. In this situation necessity and choice were one and the same
thing; the captain and I sat down together to a small bowl of
punch, over which we both soon fell fast asleep, and so concluded
the evening." In the record of the previous day, while sketching
the humours of Jacks in office, Fielding incidentally shows himself
as no less careful of the respect due to his wife than he was
solicitous for her comfort. A ruffianly custom-house officer had
appeared in their cabin, wearing a hat adorned with broad gold
lace, and 'cocked with much military fierceness.' On eliciting the
information that 'the gentleman' was a riding surveyor, "I
replied," says Fielding, "that he might be a riding surveyor, but
could be no gentleman, for that none who had any title to that
denomination, would break into the presence of a lady, without any
apology or even moving his hat. He then took his covering from his
head, and laid it on the table, saying he asked pardon." To this
'riding surveyor' we owe also an indication that Fielding found
room in the narrow confines of a cabin for his Plato; for the rude
insolence of that functionary recalls to his mind the Platonic
theory of the divine original of rulers, and he proceeds to quote a
long passage from the <em>Laws</em>, which even his ready
scholarship could scarce have had by heart.</p>

<p>Contrary winds continued to baffle all Captain Veal's
seamanship, and afforded his passenger opportunities for a spirited
protest concerning the need of some regulation both of the charges
of long-shore boatmen, and of the manners of captains in the Royal
Navy. On the evening of July 8 the <em>Voyage</em> records that "we
beat the sea off Sussex, in sight of Dungeness, with much more
pleasure than progress; for the weather was almost a perfect calm,
and the moon, which was almost at the full, scarce suffered a
single cloud to veil her from our sight"; and on the 18th of the
month the <em>Queen of Portugal</em> put in to Ryde, at which place
she remained wind-bound for no less than eleven days.</p>

<p>These eleven days Fielding spent, by his wife's persuasions, on
shore, at the poor village inn which, together with a little church
and some thirty houses, then constituted the village of Ryde. Of
the hardships and humours of that sojourn the <em>Voyage</em>
affords an account worthy of a place among the pages of either of
the three great novels. The landlady, an incredibly mean and
heartless shrew, inflicted daily annoyances and extortions on her
wind-bound victims. The squalid building, partly constructed of
wreck-wood, could scarce house the party. The food supplies, other
than those the visitors brought with them, were chiefly 'rusty
bacon, and worse cheese,' with very bad ale to drink. And on the
first afternoon, the house was found to be so damp from recent
scrubbing that Mrs Fielding, who "besides discharging excellently
well her own, and all the tender offices becoming the female
character; who besides being a faithful friend, an amiable
companion, and a tender nurse, could likewise supply the wants of a
decrepit husband, and occasionally perform his part," hastily
snatched the invalid from "worse perils by water than the common
dangers of the sea," and ordered dinner to be laid in a dry and
commodious barn. So seated, "in one of the most pleasant spots, I
believe, in the kingdom," and regaled on bacon, beans, and fish,
"we completed," says Fielding, "the best, the pleasantest, and the
merriest meal, with more appetite, more real, solid luxury, and
more festivity, than was ever seen in an entertainment at
White's."</p>

<p class="centered"><a name="i367"><img src="images/367.jpg" alt=
"Ryde--1795" width="642" height="500"></a></p>

<p>On Sunday the three ladies went to church, "attended by the
captain in a most military attire, with his cockade in his hat, and
his sword by his side" (Captain Veal had commanded a privateer);
and Fielding, while left alone, pursued those researches into human
nature of which he never wearied by conversation with the landlord,
a fine example of henpecked humanity. On the following day the
ladies, again attended by Captain Veal, enjoyed a four mile walk,
professing themselves greatly charmed with the scenery, and with
the courtesy of a lady who owned a great house on this part of the
coast, and who "had slipt out of the way, that my wife and her
company might refresh themselves with the flowers and fruits with
which her garden abounded." Within twenty four hours this generous
householder had sent a message to the inn, placing all that her
garden or house afforded at the disposal of the travellers.
Fielding's man-servant was despatched with proper acknowledgements,
and returned "in company with the gardener, both richly laden with
almost every particular which a garden at this most fruitful season
of the year produces."</p>

<p>That evening, on a change of wind, Captain Veal came to demand
his passengers' instant return. This would have been "a terrible
circumstance to me, in my decayed condition," admits Fielding,
"especially as very heavy showers of rain, attended with a high
wind, continued to fall incessantly; the being carried thro' which
two miles in the dark, in a wet and open boat, seemed little less
than certain death." Happily the wind again veered till the
following morning, when Fielding and the three ladies, together
with their manservant and maid, were safely re-embarked, not
however without much agitation over the temporary loss of their
tea-chest. This calamity was first compensated by the prompt aid of
the hospitable lady aforementioned, and then averted by the
diligent search of William the footman who at last discovered the
hiding place of the missing 'sovereign cordial,' and thus,
concludes his master, "ended this scene, which begun with such
appearance of distress, and ended with becoming the subject of
mirth and laughter." Once more on board, Ryde and its beautiful
prospect, its verdant elms, its green meadows, and shady lanes all
combining in Fielding's opinion to make a most delightful
habitation, faded from view. And, by seven o'clock, "we sat down"
he says, "to regale ourselves with some roasted venison, which was
much better drest than we imagined it would be, and an excellent
cold pasty which my wife had made at Ryde, and which we had
reserved uncut to eat on board our ship, whither we all cheerfully
exulted in being returned from the presence of Mrs Humphreys, [the
landlady] who by the exact resemblance she bore to a fury, seemed
to have been with no great propriety settled in Paradise."</p>

<p>It is while commenting on the charm of the view from Ryde,--"I
confess myself so entirely fond of a sea prospect, that I think
nothing on the land can equal it,"--that Fielding incidentally
utters that extraordinary reference to Sir Robert Walpole as "one
of the best of men and of ministers." The only explanation of these
words at all consonant with what we know of Fielding's life seems
to be that here he adopts once more his familiar use of irony.</p>

<p>The cheerfulness of spirit with which the invalid encountered
every fresh distress, and 'exulted' in every pleasant sight and
trifling pleasure, during those days at Ryde, is very fully
reflected in the following letter, happily preserved from the
untoward fate which has apparently befallen every other intimate
word from his pen. It was written to his brother John, on the first
day of anchorage off Ryde.</p>

<p><br>
</p>

<p>"On board the Queen of Portugal, Richd. Veal at anchor on the
Mother Bank, off Ryde, to the care of the Post Master of
Portsmouth--this is my Date and y'r Direction.</p>

<p>"July 12 1754</p>

<p>"Dear Jack, After receiving that agreeable Lre from Mess'rs.
Fielding &amp; Co., we weighed on monday morning and sailed from
Deal to the Westward Four Days long but inconceivably pleasant
passage brought us yesterday to an Anchor on the Mother Bank, on
the Back of the Isle of Wight, where we had last Night in Safety
the Pleasure of hearing the Winds roar over our Heads in as violent
a Tempest as I have known, and where my only Consideration were the
Fears which must possess any Friend of ours (if there is happily
any such), who really makes our Well being the Object of his
Concern especially if such Friend should be totally inexperienced
in Sea Affairs. I therefore beg that on the Day you receive this
Mrs Daniel may know that we are just risen from Breakfast in Health
and Spirits this twelfth Instant at 9 in the morning. Our Voyage
hath proved fruitful in Adventures all which being to be written in
the Book you must postpone yr. Curiosity. As the Incidents which
fall under yr Cognizance will possibly be consigned to Oblivion, do
give them to us as they pass. Tell yr Neighbour I am much obliged
to him for recommending me to the care of a most able and
experienced Seaman to whom other Captains seem to pay such
Deference that they attend and watch his Motions, and think
themselves only safe when they act under his Direction and Example.
Our Ship in Truth seems to give Laws on the Water with as much
Authority and Superiority as you Dispense Laws to the Public and
Examples to yr Brethern in Commission, Please to direct yr Answer
to me on Board as in the Date, if gone to be returned, and then
send it by the Post and Pacquet to Lisbon to</p>

<p>"Y'r affec't. Brother<br>
"H. <a name="fnref17-10">Fielding</a> <a class="footnote" href=
"#fn17-10">10</a><br>
"To John Fielding Esq. at his House in Bow Street Cov. Garden
London."</p>

<p>It is probable, as Mr Austin Dobson has pointed out, that the
Mrs Daniel, whose anxieties Fielding here shows himself anxious to
relieve, was his second wife's mother. And by this time his brother
was doubtless occupying that house in Bow Street so frequently
advertised to the public, when any work was on foot for their
protection, as the residence of 'Henry Fielding, Esqre.'</p>

<p>The almost diabolic figure of the Ryde landlady had scarcely
left his pages, when Fielding found a new subject for his
portraiture, in the pretentious ill-bred follies of a young
officer, a nephew of the captain, who arrived on board to visit his
uncle, and who serves as an excellent foil for the simple-hearted
merits of the elder man. A rising wind, however, cut short the
Lieutenant's stories, and two nights later blew a hurricane which
Fielding declares, "would have given no small alarm to a man, who
had either not learnt what it is to die, or known what it is to be
miserable"; continuing, in words that need no comment, "my dear
wife and child must pardon me, if what I did not conceive to be any
great evil to myself, I was not much terrified with the thoughts of
happening to them: in truth, I have often thought they are both too
good, and too gentle, to be trusted to the power of any man." The
sea he loved so well was not to be Fielding's grave. Early the next
morning the <em>Queen of Portugal</em> was at anchor in Torbay; and
the whole party sat down "to a very chearful breakfast."</p>

<p>For a whole week the travellers were kept wind-bound off the
Devon coast, now at anchor, now making vain efforts to proceed. We
hear of the 'fine clouted cream,' and the delicious cyder of the
county (two hogsheads of which latter Fielding purchased as
presents for his friends); of the excellence of the local fish
named 'john dóree,' of the scandalous need of legislation for the
protection of sea-men when ashore from land-sharks, a digression
which includes a pleasant interpretation of the myth of Ulysses and
Circe as none other than the dilemma of a Homeric merchant skipper
whose crew Circe "some good ale-wife," had made drunk "with the
spirituous liquors of those days"; of the difficulty with which
Fielding could persuade his wife "whom it was no easy matter for me
to force from my side" to take a walk on shore; and of the
captain's grievous lamentations, which "seemed to have some mixture
of the Irish howl in <a name="fnref17-11">them</a>," <a class=
"footnote" href="#fn17-11">11</a> when his cat was accidentally
suffocated. Also, to these last wind-bound days belongs that famous
incident which does perhaps no less honour to the hot tempered
tyrannical old skipper than to his illustrious passenger.</p>

<p class="centered"><a name="i368"><img src="images/368.jpg" alt=
"Lisbon--1793" width="660" height="500"></a></p>

<p>Fielding, having just finished dinner, was enjoying some good
claret in the cabin, with his wife and her friend--a cheerful
moment, when conversation 'is most agreeable,' when Tom, the
captain's general factotum, burst in on them and began, without
saying a 'by your leave', to bottle half a hogshead of small beer.
After requests and protests, equally unavailing, this functionary
found himself, says Fielding, threatened "with having one bottle to
pack more than his number, which then happened to stand empty
within my reach." Thereupon Tom reported his version of the matter
to the captain, who came thundering down to the cabin in a rage
that knew no bounds of language or civility. This behaviour from a
man who had received not only liberal payment from his passenger
for accommodation, but also such frequent stores of fresh
provisions that Fielding's private purse had indeed gone some way
in maintaining the ship's crew, that passenger justly resented, and
to a hasty resolve of quitting the ship by a hoy that should carry
him to Dartmouth, he added threats of legal action. The 'most
distant sound of law,' however, he tells us, "frightened a man, who
had often, I am convinced, heard numbers of cannon roar round him
with intrepidity. Nor did he sooner see the hoy approaching the
vessel, than he ran down again into the cabin, and his rage being
perfectly subsided, he tumbled on his knees, and a little too
abjectly implored for mercy. I did not suffer a brave man and an
old man, to remain a moment in this posture; but I immediately
forgave him." It is this incident that Thackeray chooses to
complete his picture of the great novelist; adding that memorable
comparison between the "noble spirit and unconquerable generosity"
of Fielding, and the lives of many unknown heroes of the sea: "Such
a brave and gentle heart, such an intrepid and courageous spirit I
love to recognise in the manly the English Harry Fielding."</p>

<p>Within a week of this reconciliation the ship had made such
progress southward that the captain 'in the redundancy of his good
humour, declared he would go to church at Lisbon on Sunday next'
(not the least pleasant of the pictures which Fielding gives us of
the privateer is that of his summoning all hands on deck on a
Sunday morning and then reading prayers 'with an audible voice');
but again the wind played him false, becalming him near Cape
Finisterre. This last calm, however, brought with it sufficient
compensation: "tho' our voyage was retarded, we were entertained
with a scene which as no one can behold without going to sea, so no
one can form an idea of anything equal to it on shore. We were
seated on the deck, women and all, in the serenest evening that can
be imagined. Not a single cloud presented itself to our view, and
the sun himself was the only object which engrossed our whole
attention. He did indeed set with a majesty which is incapable of
description, with which, while the horizon was yet blazing with
glory, our eyes were called off to the opposite part to survey the
moon, which was then at full, and which in rising presented us with
the second object that this world hath offered to our vision.
Compared to these the pageantry of theatres, or splendor of courts,
are sights almost below the regard of children."</p>

<p>Four days later, at midnight, the anchor was cast off Lisbon,
after a calm and moonlit passage up the Tagus, a passage, Fielding
writes, "incredibly pleasant to the women, who remained three hours
enjoying it, while I was left to the cooler transports of enjoying
their pleasures at second-hand; and yet, cooler as they may be,
whoever is totally ignorant of such sensation, is, at the same
time, void of all ideas of friendship."</p>

<p>On the day following, the 24th of June, he landed, and that
evening enjoyed the long unknown luxury of a good supper, in a kind
of coffee-house "very pleasantly situated on the brow of a hill,
about a mile from the city, [which] hath a very fine prospect of
the River Tajo from Lisbon to the sea." With that pleasant prospect
the Voyage closes. Begun as it was to while away the enforced
solitude of his cabin, a condition, which no man, he tells us,
disliked more than himself and which mortal sickness rendered
especially irksome, these pages, some of which "were possibly the
production of the most disagreeable hours which ever haunted the
author," reveal Fielding to us if not as Mr Lowell has said "with
artless inadvertence" at least with perfect fullness. The undimmed
gaiety of spirit, the tender affection, the constant desire to
remove those evils which he found oppressing his country-men by sea
not less than on land, the 'enthusiasm for righteousnes,' the
humour of the first of English novelists, burn here as brightly as
though the writer were but midway in his life's voyage. The hand
that exposed evil in its native loathsomeness in a Blifil and a
Wild has not lost its cunning in depicting Mrs Humphreys; the eye
that delighted in the green fields of England saw in the southern
sunset that which made human creations 'almost below the regard of
children.' And to the last the patriotic energies of the author of
<em>Pasquin</em> and of the <em>Champion</em>, of the whole hearted
social reformer, of the tireless magistrate, knew no relaxation.
Page after page of the <em>Voyage</em> justify the passage in which
he tells us how "I would indeed have this work, which, if I live to
finish it (a matter of no great certainty, if indeed of any great
hope to me), will be probably the last I shall ever undertake, to
produce some better end than the mere diversion of the reader"; and
manifest his desire, here explicitly stated, to finish life "as I
have probably lost it, in the service of my country."</p>

<p>We have no knowledge concerning the four months following the
last entry in the pages of the <em>Voyage to Lisbon</em>. On
October 8, 1754, the end so calmly expected came; and in the
beautiful English cemetery, facing the great Basilica of the Heart
of Jesus, was laid to rest all that an alien soil could claim of
'our immortal Fielding.'</p>

<h2>APPENDIX<br>
<a name="appendixa">A</a></h2>

<p><em>The Hapsburg genealogy</em></p>

<p>It appears that the Hapsburg descent, formerly claimed by the
Denbigh family, must now be abandoned. The arguments against this
descent, published by Mr Horace Round, have been accepted by Burke.
Further, Dr G. F. Warner permits me to publish his statement that
"I have myself seen the documents upon which it [the claim] rests,
and found them to be unmistakeable forgeries."</p>

<p>As regards Henry Fielding's family it is interesting to find
that his grandfather the Rev. and Hon. John Fielding was not only
Canon of Salisbury, and a Doctor of Divinity, but also Archdeacon
of Dorsetshire. Canon John Fielding was buried at Salisbury. His
son George (Henry Fielding's uncle) was Lt. Colonel of the "Royal
Regiment of the Blues," and Groom of the Bed-chamber to Queen Anne
and to George II. He is buried in St George's Chapel, Windsor. (J.
Nichols. <em>History and Antiquities of Leicestershire</em>. 1810.
Vol. iv. pt. i. p. 394.)</p>

<p><a href="#fn1-2">Back to Chapter 1, footnote 2.</a></p>

<h2>APPENDIX<br>
<a name="appendixb">B</a></h2>

<p><em>Receipt and Assignment of "Tom Jones"</em></p>

<p>The following documents are in the possession of Alfred Huth
Esq., and are now first published</p>

<p><br>
June 11 1748. Rec'd. of Mr. Andrew Millar Six hundred Pounds being
in full for the sole Copy Right of a Book called the History of a
Foundling in Eighteen Books. And in Consideration of the said Six
Hundred Pounds I promise to asign over the said Book to the said
Andrew Millar his Executors and assigns for ever when I shall be
thereto demanded.</p>

<table summary="Table: 600 pounds">
<tr>
<td>£</td>
<td>s</td>
<td>d</td>
</tr>

<tr>
<td>£600,</td>
<td>00,</td>
<td>00.</td>
<td>Hen. Ffielding</td>
</tr>
</table>

<p>The said Work to contain Six Volumes in Duodecimo.</p>

<p>Know all Men by these Presents that I Henry Fielding of St.
Paul's Covent Garden in the County of Middlesex Esq'r. for &amp; in
consideration of the Sum of Six hundred Pounds of lawful Money of
Great Britain to me in hand paid by Andrew Millar of St. Mary le
Strand in the County afores'd. Bookseller the Receipt whereof is
hereby acknowledged and of which I do Acquit the s'd. Andrew Millar
his Executors &amp; Assigns, have bargained sold delivered assigned
&amp; set over all that my Title Right and Property in &amp; to a
certain Book printed in Six Volumes, known &amp; called by the Name
&amp; Title of The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling, inv'd.
written by me the s'd. Henry Fielding, with all Improvements,
Additions or Alterations whatsoever which now are or hereafter
shall at any time be made by me the s'd. Henry Fielding, or any one
else by my authority to the s'd. Book To Have and to Hold the s'd.
bargained Premises unto the s'd. Andrew Millar, his Ex'ors Adm'ors
or Assigns for ever And I do hereby covenant to &amp; with the s'd.
Andrew Millar his Ex'ors Adm'ors &amp; Assigns that I the s'd.
Henry Fielding the Author of the s'd. bargained Premises have not
at any time heretofore done committed or suffered any Act or thing
whatsoever by means whereof the s'd bargained Premises or any part
thereof is or shall be impeached or encumbered in any wise And I
the s'd Henry Fielding for myself my Ex'ors Adm'ors &amp; Assigns
shall warrant &amp; defend the s'd bargained Premises for ever
against all Persons whatsoever claiming under me my Ex'ors Adm'ors
or Assigns.</p>

<p>In Witness whereof I have hereunto set my hand &amp; seal this
twenty fifth day of March One thousand seven hundred &amp; forty
nine.</p>

<table summary="Table: H Ffielding and Seal">
<tr>
<td>H Ffielding</td>
<td><img src="images/seal.gif" alt="Seal" width="140" height="137"> </td>
</tr>
</table>

<p>Signed sealed &amp; delivered<br>
by the within named Henry<br>
Fielding the day and year within<br>
mentioned, in the presence of<br>
Jos. Brogden</p>

<p><a href="#fn11-5">Back to Chapter 11, footnote 5.</a></p>

<h2>APPENDIX<br>
<a name="appendixc">C</a></h2>

<p>"<em>Pasquin turned Drawcansir</em>"</p>

<p>The <em>General Advertiser</em> for March 13, 1752, Page 3,
advertises, as for Macklin's Benefit, at the Theatre Royal, Covent
Garden,</p>

<p>"A New Dramatic Satire of Two Acts, call'd Covent Garden
Theatre; or Pasquin turned Drawcansir Censor of Great Britain</p>

<p>Written on the Model of the Comedies of Aristophanes and the
Pasquinades of the Italian Theatre in Paris; With Chorusses of the
People after the manner of the Greek Drama. The Parts of the Pit,
and Boxes, the Stage, and the Town to be performed by themselves
for their Diversion; the Part of several dull disorderly Characters
in and about St. James, to be performed by certain Persons for
Example; and the Part of Pasquin-Drawcansir to be performed by his
Censorial Highness, for his Interest.</p>

<p>The Satire to be introduced by an Oration, and to conclude by a
Peroration: Both to be spoken from the Rostrum, in the Manner of
certain Orators by Signer Pasquin."</p>

<p>This advertisement is also in the <em>Covent Garden
Journal</em>, with the addition of "galleries" after the word
<em>Boxes</em>. According to Dibdin, <em>History of the Stage</em>,
Vol. V. (preface dated 1800) p. 156, this satire was <em>by</em>
Macklin.</p>

<p><a href="#fn15-2">Back to Chapter 15, footnote 1.</a></p>

<h2>APPENDIX<br>
<a name="appendixd">D</a></h2>

<p><em>The Walpole 'anecdote'</em></p>

<p>The following reference to Fielding occurs in a letter by Horace
Walpole, to George Montagu, dated May 18, 1749. It may be prefaced
by the statement that Fielding's strenuous opposition to Sir Robert
Walpole was not likely to be overlooked by Sir Robert's son; and by
Mr Austin Dobson's comment "his [Horace Walpole's] absolute
injustice, when his partisan spirit was uppermost, is everywhere
patent to readers of his Letters ... the story no doubt exaggerated
when it reached him, loses nothing under his transforming and
malicious pen." Walpole writes: "He [Rigby] and Peter Bathurst
t'other night carried a servant of the latter's, who had attempted
to shoot him, before Fielding; who, to all his other vocations,
has, by the grace of Mr Lyttelton, added that of Middlesex justice.
He sent them word he was at supper, that they must come next
morning. They did not understand that freedom, and ran up, where
they found him banqueting with a blind man, a whore, and three
Irishmen, on some cold mutton and a bone of ham, both in one dish,
and the dirtiest cloth. He never stirred nor asked them to sit.
Rigby, who had seen him so often come to beg a guinea of Sir C.
Williams, and Bathurst, at whose father's he had lived for
victuals, understood that dignity as little, and pulled themselves
chairs; on which he civilised."</p>

<p>The 'blind man' was doubtless the half brother later to be
knighted for his distinguished public services, Sir John Fielding;
and, adds Mr Austin Dobson, "it is extremely unlikely the lady so
discourteously characterised could have been any other than his
wife, who Lady Stuart tells us 'had few personal charms.' There
remain the 'three Irishmen' who may, or may not, have been
perfectly presentable members of society. At all events, their mere
nationality, so rapidly decided upon, cannot be regarded as a
stigma." Bearing in mind, on the one hand, our knowledge of
Fielding as he reveals himself in his own pages, and in his
friendships, and on the other the character earned by Horace
Walpole's pen, it seems matter for doubt whether this 'anecdote'
deserves even a place in an appendix.</p>

<p><a href="#fn13-2">Back to Chapter 13, footnote 2.</a></p>

<h2>APPENDIX<br>
<a name="appendixe">E</a></h2>

<p><em>Fielding's Will</em></p>

<p>Fielding's will was discovered in the Prerogative Court of
Canterbury, by Mr G. A. Aitken. It is undated:--</p>

<p>IN THE NAME OF GOD AMEN--I HENRY FIELDING of the parish of
Ealing in the County of Middlesex do hereby give and bequeath unto
Ralph Allen of Prior Park in the County of Somerset Esqr and to his
heirs executors administrators and assigns for ever to the use of
the said Ralph his heirs &amp;c all my Estate real and personal
wheresoever and whatsoever and do appoint him sole EXECUTOR of this
my last Will--Beseeching him that the whole (except my shares in
the Register Office) may be sold and forthwith converted into Money
and Annuities purchased thereout for the lives of my dear Wife Mary
and my daughters Harriet and Sophia and what proportions my said
Executor shall please to reserve to my sons William and Allen shall
be paid them severally as they shall attain the age of twenty and
three And as for my Shares in the Register or Universal Register
Office I give ten thereof to my aforesaid Wife seven to my Daughter
Harriet and three to my daughter Sophia my Wife to be put in
immediate possession of her shares and my Daughters of theirs as
they shall severally arrive at the Age of 21 the immediate Profits
to be then likewise paid to my two Daughters by my Executor who is
desired to retain the same in his Hands until that time--Witness my
Hand--HENRY FIELDING--Signed and acknowledged as his last Will and
Testament by the within named Testator in the presence of--MARGARET
COLLIER--RICHD BOOR--ISABELLA ASH--</p>

<p>Proved 14th November 1754.</p>

<p>Extracted from the Principal Registry of the Probate Divorce and
Admiralty Division of the High Court of Justice</p>

<p>In the Prerogative Court of Canterbury</p>

<p>November 1754</p>

<p>HENRY FIELDING Esquire--On the fourteenth day Administration
(with the Will annexed) of the Goods Chattels and Credits of Henry
Fielding late of Ealing in the County of Middlesex but at Lisbon in
the Kingdom of Portugal Esquire deceased was granted to John
Fielding Esquire the Uncle and Curator or Guardian lawfully
assigned to Harriet Fielding Spinster a Minor and Sophia Fielding
an Infant the natural and lawfull Daughters of the said Deceased
and two of the Residuary Legatees named in the said Will for the
use and benefit of the said Minor and Infant and until one of them
shall attain the age of twenty one years for that Ralph Allen
Esquire the sole Executor and Residuary Legatee in Trust named in
the said Will hath renounced as well the Execution thereof as
Letters of Administration (with the said Will annexed) of the Goods
Chattels and Credits of the said deceased and Mary Fielding Widow
the Relict of the said deceased and the other Residuary Legatee
named in the said Will hath also renounced Letters of
Administration (with the said Will annexed) of the Goods Chattels
and Credits of the said deceased--the said John Fielding having
been first sworn duly to administer.</p>

<p>In addition to the property mentioned here, Fielding possessed a
library, as Mr Austin Dobson <a name="fnrefa-1">discovered</a>, <a
class="footnote" href="#fna-1">1</a> which when sold six months
after his death, "for the Benefit of his Wife and Family," realised
£364, 7s. 1d. or "about £100 more than the public gave in 1785 for
the books of <a name="fnrefa-2">Johnson</a>." <a class="footnote"
href="#fna-2">2</a> Also according to the <em>Recollections of the
Late John Adolphus</em>, by Henderson, Fielding purchased a 90
years' lease of a house near Canterbury, for one of his
daughters.</p>

<p>Of the children mentioned in this will, William became, a
contemporary writer tells us, "an eminent barrister at law and
inherits the integrity of his father and a large share of his
brilliant <a name="fnrefa-3">talents</a>." <a class="footnote"
href="#fna-3">3</a> Mr Austin Dobson refers to William Fielding as
being like his father "a strenuous advocate of the poor and
unfortunate," and adds that the obituary notice in the
<em>Gentleman's Magazine</em> records his worth and <a name=
"fnrefa-4">piety</a>. <a class="footnote" href="#fna-4">4</a>
Harriet Fielding is said to have been of "a sweet temper and great
<a name="fnrefa-5">understanding</a>." <a class="footnote" href=
"#fna-5">5</a> Allen Fielding became Vicar of St. Stephens
Canterbury, and was "greatly beloved by all, especially the little
children," writes a descendant. Allen Fielding's four sons all took
Orders, and of the second, Charles, it was written on his death,
that "he had not only a heart that could feel for others, but a
heart that lived in <a name="fnrefa-6">giving</a>." <a class=
"footnote" href="#fna-6">6</a> The noble qualities of Henry
Fielding found their echo in his descendants.</p>

<h2>APPENDIX<br>
<a name="appendixf">F</a></h2>

<p><em>Fielding's Tomb and Epitaph</em></p>

<p>Fielding's present tomb, in the beautiful English cemetery at
Lisbon, was erected in 1830. On one side is inscribed:</p>

<p>LUGET BRITANNIA GREMIO NON DARI<br>
FOVERE NATUM</p>

<p>On the other side are the following lines:</p>

<p class="centered">Henrici Fielding<br>
A Somersetensibus apud Glastoniam oriundi<br>
Viri summo ingenio<br>
en quae restant:<br>
Stylo quo non alius unquam<br>
Intima qui potuit cordis reserare mores hominum excolendos<br>
suscepit<br>
Virtuti decorum, vitio foeditatem asseruit, suum cuique
tribuens;<br>
Non quin ipse subinde irritaretur evitandis<br>
Ardensin amicitia, in miseria sublevanda effusus<br>
Hilaris urbanus et conjux et pater adamantus.<br>
Aliis non sibi vixit<br>
Vixit sed mortem victricem vincit dum natura durat dum saecula<br>
currunt<br>
Naturae prolem scriptis prae se ferens<br>
Suam et sua genlis extendet <a name="fnrefa-7">famam</a>. <a class=
"footnote" href="#fna-7">7</a></p>

<h2>APPENDIX<br>
<a name="appendixg">G</a></h2>

<p><em>Fielding's posthumous play "The Fathers"</em></p>

<p>Fielding's play <em>The Fathers</em> or <em>The Good-natured
Man</em> seems to have been lost (apparently after being submitted
to Sir Charles Hanbury Williams) till twenty years after Fielding's
death. It was discovered by M'r Johnes, M.P. for Cardigan, in 1775,
or 1776, who sent it to Garrick. Garrick recognised it as "Harry
Fielding's Comedy"; and, after revision, it was produced at Drury
Lane on November 30, 1778. Garrick not only appeared in the cast,
but also wrote both prologue and epilogue. A note, in the Morrison
Manuscripts, from Garrick to D'r John Hoadley, dated January 3,
1776, concludes thus "We have found the lost sheep, Henry
Fielding's Good Natured Man which was mislaid near twenty <a name=
"fnrefa-8">years</a>." <a class="footnote" href="#fna-8">8</a> In
the following pleasant letter Sir John Fielding commends Mrs
Fielding's Benefit night to Dr Hunter.</p>

<p>"Sir John Fielding presents his compliments to Dr. Hunter, and
acquaints him that the Comedy of 'The Good-natured Man' written by
the late Mr. Henry Fielding will be performed at Drury Lane next
Monday being the Author's Widow's night.</p>

<p>"He was your old and sincere friend. There are no other of his
Works left unpublished. This is the last opportunity you will have
of shewing any respect to his Memory as a Genius, so that I hope
you will send all your Pupils, all your Patients, all your Friends,
&amp; everybody else to the Play that Night, by which Means you
will indulge your benevolent feelings and your Sentiments of <a
name="fnrefa-9">Friendship</a>. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fna-9">9</a></p>

<p>"Bow Street, Dec'r 4, 1778."</p>

<h2>APPENDIX<br>
<a name="appendixh">H</a></h2>

<p><em>Undated Accounts of Fielding at Salisbury and at
Barnes</em></p>

<p>Research has so far failed to identify the period of Fielding's
traditional residence in Salisbury. According to the following
passage in <em>Old and New Sarum or Salisbury</em>, by R. Benson
and H. Hatcher, 1843, he occupied three houses in or near
Salisbury. "It is well known that Fielding the Novelist married a
lady of Salisbury named Craddock [sic] and was for a time resident
in our City. From tradition we learn that he first occupied the
house in the Close at the south side of St Anne's Gate. He
afterwards removed to that in St Anne's Street next to the Friary;
and finally established himself in the Mansion at the foot of
Milford Hill, where he wrote a considerable portion of his <em>Tom
<a name="fnrefa-10">Jones</a></em>." <a class="footnote" href=
"#fna-10">10</a></p>

<p>Fielding's residence in Barnes is no less illusive. The
following passage occurs in the edition of 1795 of <em>Lyson's
Environs of London</em>: "Henry Fielding, the celebrated Novelist,
resided at Barnes, in the house which is now the property of Mr <a
name="fnrefa-11">Partington</a>." <a class="footnote" href=
"#fna-11">11</a> In the edition of 1811 the house is described as
"now the property of Mrs Stanton, widow of the late Admiral <a
name="fnrefa-12">Stanton</a>." <a class="footnote" href=
"#fna-12">12</a> In Manning and Bray's <em>Surrey</em> the name of
the house is given: "On Barnes Green is a very old house called
Milbourne House.... It was once the residence of Henry Fielding the
celebrated novel writer. The widow of Admiral Stanton is the
present owner of this <a name="fnrefa-13">house</a>." <a class=
"footnote" href="#fna-13">13</a> The Barnes Rate-books appear to
throw no light on the date of Fielding's residence at Milbourne
House. It is noteworthy that both the Barnes and Salisbury
statements indicate a man of some means, living as befitted a
Fielding.</p>

<h2>APPENDIX<br>
<a name="appendixi">I</a></h2>

<p><em>An undated letter of Fieldings to Lady Mary Wortley
Montagu</em></p>

<p>The following undated letter is printed in <em>The Letters and
Works of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu</em> edited by Lord Wharncliffe
and W. M. Thomas. Lord Wharncliffe includes it with the letters
from originals among the Wortley <a name="fnrefa-14">papers</a>. <a
class="footnote" href="#fna-14">14</a></p>

<p><br>
</p>

<p>Wednesday evening</p>

<p>Madam,--I have presumed to send your ladyship a copy of the play
which you did me the honour of reading three acts of last spring,
and hope it may meet as light a censure from your ladyship's
judgment as then; for while your goodness permits me (what I esteem
the greatest, and indeed only happiness of my life) to offer my
unworthy performances to your perusal, it will be entirely from
your sentence that they will be regarded, or disesteemed by me. I
shall do myself the honour of calling at your ladyship's door
to-morrow at eleven, which, if it be an improper hour, I beg to
know from your servant what other time will be more convenient. I
am with the greatest respect and gratitude, madam,</p>

<p>Your ladyship's most obedient, most devoted humble servant.</p>

<h2>APPENDIX<br>
<a name="appendixj">J</a></h2>

<p>FIELDING'S <em>Tom Thumb</em></p>

<p>This play appears to have carried some political significance in
Fielding's day; if it was not, indeed, written with a political
intention. This may be gathered from an article in the <em>Daily
Post</em> of March 29, 1742, apropos of a performance of the
<em>Tragedy of Tragedies</em>, that night, at Drury Lane. The
article attributes, in detail, political intentions to the
<em>Tragedy</em>--"a Piece at first calculated to ridicule some
particular Persons and Affairs in Europe (at the Time it was writ)
but more especially in this Island."</p>

<h3>Footnotes for Chapter 1</h3>

<p><a name="fn1-1">1</a>. Chancery Proceedings 1720 sqq.
<em>Fielding</em> v. <em>Fielding</em>. From the records of this
Chancery suit, instituted on behalf of Henry Fielding and his
brother and sisters, as minors, by their grandmother Lady Gould,
are taken the hitherto unpublished facts concerning the novelist's
boyhood, contained in this chapter. The original documents are
preserved in the Record Office. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref1-1">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn1-2">2</a>. See <a href="#appendixa">Appendix A</a>.
<a class="footnote" href="#fnref1-2">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn1-3">3</a>. By means of a legacy of £3000 left by her
father for his daughter's sole use, "her husband having nothing to
doe with it." <a class="footnote" href="#fnref1-3">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn1-4">4</a>. <em>History and Antiquities of
Leicestershire</em>. J. Nichols. 1810. Vol. iv. Part i. p. 292.
Nichols does not state his authority for this statement, and it is
not confirmed by local records. See Hutchins' <em>History of
Dorset</em> for the list of Stour Provost rectors. <a class=
"footnote" href="#fnref1-4">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn1-5">5</a>. Chancery Proceedings, 1722.
<em>Fielding</em> v. <em>Midford</em>. Record Office. <a class=
"footnote" href="#fnref1-5">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn1-6">6</a>. Edmund's name was added in October
following. <a class="footnote" href="#fnref1-6">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn1-7">7</a>. <em>Chancery Decrees and Order
Books</em>. Record Office. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref1-7">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn1-8">8</a>. Tom Jones, Book xiii. Introduction. <a
class="footnote" href="#fnref1-8">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn1-9">9</a>. Ibid., Book viii., ch. xiii. <a class=
"footnote" href="#fnref1-9">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn1-10">10</a>. <em>Tom Jones</em>, Book ix.
Introduction. <a class="footnote" href="#fnref1-10">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn1-11">11</a>. See <em>infra</em>, chap. xi. <a class=
"footnote" href="#fnref1-11">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn1-12">12</a>. Fifty years ago a portrait of the
beautiful heiress, in the character of Sophia Western, was still
preserved at the house of Bellairs, near Exeter, then the property
of the Rhodes family. The present ownership of the picture has, so
far, eluded inquiry. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref1-12">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn1-13">13</a>. <em>Fielding</em>, Austin Dobson, p.
202. <a class="footnote" href="#fnref1-13">Back</a></p>

<h3>Footnotes for Chapter 2</h3>

<p><a name="fn2-1">1</a>. <em>Joseph Andrews</em>, Book iii. Chap.
iii. <a class="footnote" href="#fnref2-1">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn2-2">2</a>. <em>Miscellanies</em>,ed. 1743, vol. ii.
p. 62. <a class="footnote" href="#fnref2-2">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn2-3">3</a>. In the <em>Miscellanies</em> of 1743. <a
class="footnote" href="#fnref2-3">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn2-4">4</a>. <em>Fielding</em>, Austin Dobson, 1907.
App. iv. <a class="footnote" href="#fnref2-4">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn2-5">5</a>. What appears to be the original autograph
of the above letter is now (1909) in the library of the Boston
Athenaeum, having been presented by Mr C. P. Greenough. <a class=
"footnote" href="#fnref2-5">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn2-6">6</a>. <em>Notitia Dramatica</em> (British
Museum. MSS. Dept.) and Genest give 1734 as the date of Don
Quixote; Murphy, edition of 1766, vol. iii p. 249, gives 1733. <a
class="footnote" href="#fnref2-6">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn2-7">7</a>. For the refutation of Genest's confusion
of Timothy Fielding, a strolling player, with Henry Fielding, see
Austin Dobson, <em>Fielding</em>, pp. 28, 29. <a class="footnote"
href="#fnref2-7">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn2-8">8</a>. The <em>Miscellanies</em>. Edition 1743.
<a class="footnote" href="#fnref2-8">Back</a></p>

<h3>Footnotes for Chapter 3</h3>

<p><a name="fn3-1">1</a>. <em>Tom Jones</em>. Book xiii.
Introduction. <a class="footnote" href="#fnref3-1">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn3-2">2</a>. See the registers of St Mary Charlcombe.
As Sarah Fielding, the novelist's sister, was buried in the
entrance to the chancel of this church, it would appear that some
connection existed between Charlcombe and the Fielding family. <a
class="footnote" href="#fnref3-2">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn3-3">3</a>. <em>Seasonable Reproof--a Satire in the
manner of Horace</em>, 1735. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref3-3">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn3-4">4</a>. The entry in the East Stour Registers is
"W'm. Young, Curate 1731-1740." <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref3-4">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn3-5">5</a>. <em>Voyage to Lisbon</em>. <a class=
"footnote" href="#fnref3-5">Back</a></p>

<h3>Footnotes for chapter 4</h3>

<p><a name="fn4-1">1</a>. <em>Works of Henry Fielding</em>, Edited
by Edmund Gosse. Introduction, p. xxi. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref4-1">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn4-2">2</a>. <em>Life of Garrick</em>. T. Davies.
1780, vol. i. p. 223. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref4-2">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn4-3">3</a>. <em>Notitia Dramatica</em>, MSS. Dept.
British Museum, speaks of <em>Pasquin</em> as performed for the
fortieth time on April 21, 1736: and quotes an advertisement of the
play for March 5. There seems to be no record of the actual first
night. <a class="footnote" href="#fnref4-3">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn4-4">4</a>. Rich appears to have been the manager at
Covent Garden from 1733 to 1761. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref4-4">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn4-5">5</a>. <em>Autobiography of Mrs Delany.</em>
1861. Vol I. p. 554. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref4-5">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn4-6">6</a>. See Fielding's ironic reference to such
"iniquitous surmises" in the Dedication to the <em>Historical
Register</em>. <a class="footnote" href="#fnref4-6">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn4-7">7</a>. The earliest newspaper reference, so far
available, is that of the <em>Daily Journal</em> for April 6 1737,
which speaks of April 11 as the ninth day of the <em>Register</em>.
<a class="footnote" href="#fnref4-7">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn4-8">8</a>. In the succeeding Epilogue of
<em>Eurydice Hiss'd</em> it must be admitted that Sir Robert's love
of the bottle is broadly satirised. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref4-8">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn4-9">9</a>. <em>Daily Advertiser</em>, April 29.
1737. <a class="footnote" href="#fnref4-9">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn4-10">10</a>. <em>Life of Garrick</em>, T. Davies,
vol. ii. p. 206. <a class="footnote" href="#fnref4-10">Back</a></p>

<h3>Footnotes for Chapter 5</h3>

<p><a name="fn5-1">1</a>. <em>Life of Garrick</em>. T. Davies, vol.
ii. <a class="footnote" href="#fnref5-1">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn5-2">2</a>. <em>Works of Henry Fielding</em>, edited
by Edmund Gosse. Introduction, p. xxix. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref5-2">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn5-3">3</a>. <em>The Works of Mr George Lillo, with
some Account of his Life</em>, T. Davies. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref5-3">Back</a></p>

<h3>Footnotes for Chapter 6</h3>

<p><a name="fn6-1">1</a>. The fullest newspaper for theatrical
notices at this date, preserved in the British Museum, the
<em>London Daily Post</em>, is unfortunately missing for this year.
<a class="footnote" href="#fnref6-1">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn6-2">2</a>. Now first printed, from documents at the
Record Office. <a class="footnote" href="#fnref6-2">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn6-3">3</a>. A table inscribed by a former owner as
having belonged to Henry Fielding, Esq., novelist, is now in the
possession of the Somersetshire Archaeological Society. The
inscription adds that Fielding "hunted from East Stour Farm in
1718." He would then be eleven years old! <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref6-3">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn6-4">4</a>. From the hitherto unpublished original,
in the library of Alfred Huth, Esq. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref6-4">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn6-5">5</a>. "Cro: Eliz." is the legal abbreviation
for Justice Croke's law reports for the reign of Elizabeth. <a
class="footnote" href="#fnref6-5">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn6-6">6</a>. <em>Champion</em>, February 26, 1740. <a
class="footnote" href="#fnref6-6">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn6-7">7</a>. <em>The Tryal of Colley Cibber, Comedian
etc.</em> 1740. <a class="footnote" href="#fnref6-7">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn6-8">8</a>. Those of April 22, and April 29, 1740. <a
class="footnote" href="#fnref6-8">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn6-9">9</a>. And see <em>Daily Gazeteer</em>, Oct. 9,
1740. <a class="footnote" href="#fnref6-9">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn6-10">10</a>. <em>Champion</em>, December 22, 1739.
<a class="footnote" href="#fnref6-10">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn6-11">11</a>. For April 22, April 29, May 6, and May
17. <a class="footnote" href="#fnref6-11">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn6-12">12</a>. Boswell's <em>Johnson</em>, edited by
Birkbeck Hill. Vol. i. p. 169. n. 2: "Ralph ... as appears from the
minutes of the partners of the <em>Champion</em> in the possession
of Mr Reed of Staple Inn, succeeded Fielding in his share of the
paper before the date of that eulogium [1744]." <a class="footnote"
href="#fnref6-12">Back</a></p>

<h3>Footnotes for Chapter 7</h3>

<p><a name="fn7-1">1</a>. A tantalising reference to one such
acquaintance occurs in Lord Campbell's <em>Lives of the
Chancellors</em>. Vol. v. p. 357. In notes made by Lord Camden's
nephew, George Hardinge, for a proposed Life of the Lord Chancellor
there is this entry: "formed an acquaintance ... with Henry
Fielding ... called to the Bar." <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref7-1">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn7-2">2</a>. Now in the possession of W. K. Bixby,
Esq., of St Louis, U.S.A. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref7-2">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn7-3">3</a>. In a manuscript copy of the Minutes, in
the possession of the present writer. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref7-3">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn7-4">4</a>. <em>London Daily Post</em>, June 18-26,
1741. <a class="footnote" href="#fnref7-4">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn7-5">5</a>. The hard frost would be the terrible
preceding winter of 1739-40, a winter long remembered for the
severity of the cold, the cost of provisions, and the suffering of
the poor. <a class="footnote" href="#fnref7-5">Back</a></p>

<h3>Footnotes for Chapter 8</h3>

<p><a name="fn8-1">1</a>. <em>Cleopatra and Octavia</em>. Sarah
Fielding. Introduction. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref8-1">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn8-2">2</a>. See the ledgers of Woodfall, the printer,
quoted in <em>Notes and Queries</em>, Series vi. p. 186.<a class=
"footnote" href="#fnref8-2">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn8-3">3</a>. It is interesting to note that Samuel
Rogers was heard to speak with great admiration of chapter xiii. of
Book iii., entitled "A curious Dialogue which passed between Mr
Abraham Adams and Mr Peter Pounce." (MS. note by Dyce, in a copy of
<em>Joseph Andrews</em>, now in the South Kensington Museum.) <a
class="footnote" href="#fnref8-3">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn8-4">4</a>. This copy, published in Amsterdam in
1775, is now in the possession of Mr Pierpont Morgan. <a class=
"footnote" href="#fnref8-4">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn8-5">5</a>. Letters and Works of Lady Mary Wortley
Montagu. Vol. ii. p. 194. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref8-5">Back</a></p>

<h3>Footnotes for Chapter 9</h3>

<p><a name="fn9-1">1</a>. <em>Daily Post</em>, June 5, 1742. <a
class="footnote" href="#fnref9-1">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn9-2">2</a>. MS. copy of the Minutes of the Meetings
of the Partners in the <em>Champion</em>, in the possession of the
present writer. <a class="footnote" href="#fnref9-2">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn9-3">3</a>. See <em>Daily Post</em>. May 29, 1742. <a
class="footnote" href="#fnref9-3">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn9-4">4</a>. Preface to the <em>Miscellanies</em>. <a
class="footnote" href="#fnref9-4">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn9-5">5</a>. Such as the inscription on some verses,
published in the <em>Miscellanies</em>, as "Written
<em>Extempore</em> in the Pump-room" at Bath, in 1742. <a class=
"footnote" href="#fnref9-5">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn9-6">6</a>. Preface to <em>David Simple</em>. <a
class="footnote" href="#fnref9-6">Back</a></p>

<h3>Footnotes for Chapter 10</h3>

<p><a name="fn10-1">1</a>. These are in the Burney Collection, and
are inscribed "These papers are by the celebrated Henry Fielding
Esqre." <a class="footnote" href="#fnref10-1">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn10-2">2</a>. See the <em>Gentleman's Magazine</em>.
Dec. 1747. <a class="footnote" href="#fnref10-2">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn10-3">3</a>. <em>A Free Comment on the Late Mr.
W-G-N's Apology ... By a Lady ...</em> 1748. <a class="footnote"
href="#fnref10-3">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn10-4">4</a>. <em>The Patriot Analized</em>. 1748. <a
class="footnote" href="#fnref10-4">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn10-5">5</a>. <em>True Patriot No. 14</em>. <a class=
"footnote" href="#fnref10-5">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn10-6">6</a>. <em>True Patriot</em>. No. 29. May 20,
1746. <a class="footnote" href="#fnref10-6">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn10-7">7</a>. R. Cobbett. <em>Memorials of
Twickenham</em>, 1872. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref10-7">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn10-8">8</a>. The <em>Journal's</em> epitaph was
promptly written by a scurrilous opponent in lines showing that the
prominences of Fielding's profile were well-known:</p>

<p>Beneath this stone<br>
 Lies <em>Trott Plaid John</em><br>
 His length of chin and nose.</p>

<p>See the <em>Gentleman's Magazine</em>, November 1748. <a class=
"footnote" href="#fnref10-8">Back</a></p>

<div class="footnotes">
<h3>Footnotes for Chapter 11</h3>

<p><a name="fn11-1">1</a>. The Fiat appointing Fielding as
Magistrate for the City and Borough of Westminster, now in the
House of Lords, is dated July 30, 1748. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref11-1">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn11-2">2</a>. On the house identified with Mr Graves'
description, and now known as "Fielding's Lodge," a tablet has
recently been placed, through the energy of Mr R. G. Naish of
Twerton. <a class="footnote" href="#fnref11-2">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn11-3">3</a>. See <em>Life of the Earl of
Hardwicke</em>. G. Harris. 1847. Vol. II. pp. 456-7. <a class=
"footnote" href="#fnref11-3">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn11-4">4</a>. <em>Tom Jones</em>. Dedication. <a
class="footnote" href="#fnref11-4">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn11-5">5</a>. See <a href="#appendixb">Appendix</a>
for this, hitherto unpublished, receipt. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref11-5">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn11-6">6</a>. <em>London Magazine.</em> Feb. 1749. <a
class="footnote" href="#fnref11-6">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn11-7">7</a>. In Germany an edition of 1771 was
followed by a second in 1780, and a third in 1786. In 1765 a
lyrical comedy founded on the famous novel was acted in Paris; and
the same year it was transformed into a German comedy by J.H.
Steffens. <a class="footnote" href="#fnref11-7">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn11-8">8</a>. S. T. Coleridge. Manuscript notes in a
copy of <em>Tom Jones</em>, now in the British Museum. <a class=
"footnote" href="#fnref11-8">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn11-9">9</a>. Ibid. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref11-9">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn11-10">10</a>. J. T. Smith. <em>Nollekens and his
Times</em>. Vol. i. pp. 124-5. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref11-10">Back</a></p>

<h3>Footnotes for Chapter 12</h3>

<p><a name="fn12-1">1</a>. His Commission in the Peace for
Westminster bears date October 25. 1748. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref12-1">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn12-2">2</a>. An application is reported for the 2nd
of December before "Justice Fielding" of Meards Court, St. Anne's,
but for reasons given below this <em>may</em> refer to John
Fielding. <a class="footnote" href="#fnref12-2">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn12-3">3</a>. From the autograph now at Woburn Abbey,
and printed in the <em>Correspondence of John Fourth Duke of
Bedford</em>. Vol. i. p. 589. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref12-3">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn12-4">4</a>. Middlesex Records. Volume of
<em>Qualification Oaths for Justices of the Peace</em>. 1749. From
an entry dated July 13, 1749, in the same volume, Fielding appears
to have then owned leases in the three first named parishes only.
<a class="footnote" href="#fnref12-4">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn12-5">5</a>. See the King's Writ, now preserved in
the Record Office. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref12-5">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn12-6">6</a>. Middlesex Records. <em>Sacramental
Certificates.</em> <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref12-6">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn12-7">7</a>. Middlesex Records. <em>Oath Rolls.</em>
<a class="footnote" href="#fnref12-7">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn12-8">8</a>. <em>Amelia.</em> Book i. Chapter ii. <a
class="footnote" href="#fnref12-8">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn12-9">9</a>. The Westminster <em>Session Rolls</em>,
preserved among the Middlesex Records, contain many recognizances
all signed by Fielding. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref12-9">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn12-10">10</a>. "On Friday last," announces the
General Advertiser for May 17, "Counsellor Fielding, one of his
Majesty's Justices of the Peace was chosen Chairman of the Sessions
at Hicks Hall for the County of Middlesex"; a statement not very
compatible with the incontestable evidence preserved in the
<em>General Orders Books</em> of the Middlesex Records, by which it
appears that John Lane Esq're was elected Chairman of the Middlesex
General Sessions and General Quarter Session from Ladyday 1749 to
September 1752. The personal paragraphist of 1749 was perhaps no
less inaccurate than his descendant of to-day. But a few weeks
later this honour of chairmanship was certainly accorded to
Fielding by his brethren of the Bench for Westminster. An entry in
the <em>Sessions Book</em> of Westminster, 1749 runs as follows:
"May. 1749, Mr Fielding elected chairman of this present Session
and to continue untill the 2nd day of the next." <em>MSS Sessions
Books for Westminster. Vol. 1749.</em> Middlesex Records. <a class=
"footnote" href="#fnref12-10">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn12-11">11</a>. From the autograph now at Woburn
Abbey, and printed in the <em>Correspondence of John, Fourth Duke
of Bedford</em>, vol. ii. p. 35. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref12-11">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn12-12">12</a>. From the hitherto unpublished
autograph now in the British Museum. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref12-12">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn12-13">13</a>. This letter is now in the Dreer
Collection of the Historical Society of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia,
U.S.A. <a class="footnote" href="#fnref12-13">Back</a></p>

<h3>Footnotes for Chapter 13</h3>

<p><a name="fn13-1">1</a>. Doubtless faithfully rendered in the old
print, here reproduced, of Fielding's blind half-brother,
assistant, and successor, Sir John Fielding, hearing a Bow Street
case. <a class="footnote" href="#fnref13-1">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn13-2">2</a>. See <a href="#appendixd">Appendix</a>.
<a class="footnote" href="#fnref13-2">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn13-3">3</a>. Middlesex Records. <em>MSS. Sessions
Books</em>. 1750. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref13-3">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn13-4">4</a>. From the hitherto unpublished autograph,
now at Woburn Abbey. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref13-4">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn13-5">5</a>. This hitherto unpublished letter is now
in the British Museum. It is addressed to "--Perkins, Esq. at his
Chambers No. 7, in Lincolns Inn Square," and is sealed with
Fielding's seal, a facsimile of which appears on the cover of the
present volume. <a class="footnote" href="#fnref13-5">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn13-6">6</a>. <em>Fielding</em>. Austin Dobson. p.
156. <a class="footnote" href="#fnref13-6">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn13-7">7</a>. <em>The General Advertiser</em>. March
7, 1751. <a class="footnote" href="#fnref13-7">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn13-8">8</a>. The <em>London Magazine</em> for
February devoted five columns to an "Abstract of Mr Fielding's
Enquiry"; and in the following month the <em>Magazine</em> again
noticed the book, by printing a long anonymous letter in which
Fielding is attacked as a 'trading author' and a 'trading justice,'
and in which the writer shows his intellectual grasp by advocating
in all seriousness a law prohibiting the sovereign from gambling!
<a class="footnote" href="#fnref13-8">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn13-9">9</a>. See <em>Journals of the House of
Commons</em>. Vol. xxii. p. 27, and the <em>London Magazine</em>.
Vol. xx. p. 82. The <em>Catalogue of Printed Papers. House of
Commons</em>, 1750-51, includes "A Bill for the more effectual
preventing Robberies Burglaries and other Outrages within the City
and Liberty of Westminster--" &amp;c. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref13-9">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn13-10">10</a>. This hitherto unpublished letter is
now in the British Museum. It is endorsed "Jan. 15, 1750(1)." <a
class="footnote" href="#fnref13-10">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn13-11">11</a>. 24 George II. c. 40. June 1751. <a
class="footnote" href="#fnref13-11">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn13-12">12</a>. Middlesex Records. <em>Sessions
Book</em>. 1751. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref13-12">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn13-13">13</a>. <em>General Advertiser</em>. Sept. 9.
1751. <a class="footnote" href="#fnref13-13">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn13-14">14</a>. Middlesex Records. <em>Sessions
Book</em>. October, 1751. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref13-14">Back</a></p>

<h3>Footnotes for Chapter 14</h3>

<p><a name="fn14-1">1</a>. <em>Anecdotes</em>. Mrs Piozzi. p. 221.
<a class="footnote" href="#fnref14-1">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn14-2">2</a>. Letters and Works of Lady Mary Wortley
Montagu. Introductory Anecdotes, p. cxxiii. <a class="footnote"
href="#fnref14-2">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn14-3">3</a>. Ibid. Vol. ii. p. 289. <a class=
"footnote" href="#fnref14-3">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn14-4">4</a>. It is curious that to this unlucky
incident, based according to Lady Louisa Stuart, Lady Mary Wortley
Montagu's grand-daughter, on a real accident to Mrs Fielding, Dr
Johnson attributed the failure of the book with the public: "that
vile broken nose ruined the sale," he declared. Early in January
Fielding himself protests in his <em>Covent Garden Journal</em>
that every reader of any intelligence would have discovered that
the effects of Amelia's terrible carriage accident had been wholly
remedied by "a famous Surgeon"; and that "the Author of her
History, in a hurry, forgot to inform his Readers of that
Particular." The particular has by now fallen into its due
insignificance, and, save for Johnson's explanation therein of the
poor sale of the book, is scarce worth recalling. <a class=
"footnote" href="#fnref14-4">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn14-5">5</a>. <em>London Magazine</em>. December 1751.
p. 531 and Appendix. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref14-5">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn14-6">6</a>. <em>Fielding</em>. Austin Dobson. p.
161. <a class="footnote" href="#fnref14-6">Back</a></p>

<h3>Footnotes for Chapter 15</h3>

<p><a name="fn15-1">1</a>. A dramatic satire, advertised in March
at Covent Garden Theatre and written (as stated by Dibdin,
<em>History of the Stage</em>. Vol. v. p. 156), by the actor
Macklin, bore for sub-title <em>Pasquin turned Drawcansir, Censor
of Great Britain</em>. The name, and the further details of the
advertisement, recall Fielding's early success with his political
<em>Pasquin</em>: but all further trace of this 'Satire' seems
lost. See <a href="#appendixc">Appendix C</a>. <a class="footnote"
href="#fnref15-1">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn15-2">2</a> <em>A faithful Narrative....</em> By
Drawcansir.... Alexander. 1752. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref15-2">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn15-3">3</a>. 25. G II. cap 36. <a class="footnote"
href="#fnref15-3">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn15-4">4</a>. All trace seems now lost of the actual
part Fielding may have taken in the drafting of this Act. <a class=
"footnote" href="#fnref15-4">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn15-5">5</a>. 25. G. II. c. 37. <a class="footnote"
href="#fnref15-5">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn15-6">6</a>. It would seem, from the following
advertisement, that Fielding's inexhaustible pen published, about
this time, a sixpenny pamphlet on 'a late Act of Parliament'; but
all trace of it has been lost:--"A speech made in the Censorial
Court of Alexander Drawcansir, Monday, 6th June, 1752, concerning a
late Act of Parliament. Printed for the Author. Price 6d." <em>The
General Advertiser</em>, June 27, 1752. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref15-6">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn15-7">7</a>. The <em>General Advertiser</em> March 4.
1752. <a class="footnote" href="#fnref15-7">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn15-8">8</a>. The <em>General Advertiser</em>, April
15, 1752. <a class="footnote" href="#fnref15-8">Back</a></p>

<h3>Footnotes for Chapter 16</h3>

<p><a name="fn16-1">1</a>. <em>Life of Henry Fielding</em>.
Frederick Lawrence, p. 138. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref16-1">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn16-2">2</a>. Saunders Welch. <em>A Letter on the
subject of Robberies, wrote in the year 1753</em>. <a class=
"footnote" href="#fnref16-2">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn16-3">3</a>. See the <em>Public Advertiser</em> 1753
March 17, 20, 24 &amp;c. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref16-3">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn16-4">4</a>. This unique contemporary print of
Fielding may be seen in the British Museum, Print Room, <em>Social
Satires</em>, No. 3213. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref16-4">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn16-5">5</a>. Record Office. <em>State Papers.
Domestic</em> G. II., 127, no. 24. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref16-5">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn16-6">6</a>. Lysons. <em>Environs of London</em>.
1795. Vol. ii. p. 229. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref16-6">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn16-7">7</a>. The quotations from the <em>Voyage to
Lisbon</em> are from the edition recently prepared by Mr Austin
Dobson, for the 'World's Classics.' <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref16-7">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn16-8">8</a>. This letter is now in the British
Museum. The endorsement on the back is: "Dec. 6, 1753 from Mr
Fielding recommending Mr. Saunders Welch to be in the Com. of ye
Peace for Westmr and Middx." <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref16-8">Back</a></p>

<h3>Footnotes for Chapter 17</h3>

<p><a name="fn17-1">1</a>. The <em>Public Advertiser</em>, 1754,
February 26. <a class="footnote" href="#fnref17-1">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn17-2">2</a>. The <em>Public Advertiser</em> 1754,
April 17. <a class="footnote" href="#fnref17-2">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn17-3">3</a>. Middlesex Records. <em>Sessions
Book</em>. 1754. <a class="footnote" href="#fnref17-3">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn17-4">4</a>. See the Middlesex Records. <a class=
"footnote" href="#fnref17-4">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn17-5">5</a>. See the <em>Public Advertiser</em>.
February, 1754. <a class="footnote" href="#fnref17-5">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn17-6">6</a>. This little house was apparently
replaced by a larger house; and it is probably this second building
of which a sketch is inserted in a copy of Lysons'
<em>Environs</em> to be seen in the Guildhall Library. It is now
pulled down. <a class="footnote" href="#fnref17-6">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn17-7">7</a>. Dr Johnson spoke of Saunders Welch as
"one of my best and dearest friends." <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref17-7">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn17-8">8</a>. Austin Dobson. <em>Fielding</em>, p.
170. <a class="footnote" href="#fnref17-8">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn17-9">9</a>. "Dedication" of the <em>Voyage</em>,
written possibly by John Fielding. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnref17-9">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn17-10">10</a>. Austin Dobson. <em>Fielding</em>, p.
179. From the autograph in the possession of Mr Frederick Locker.
<a class="footnote" href="#fnref17-10">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fn17-11">11</a>. This and the following passage occur
in the second version of the <em>Voyage to Lisbon.</em> <a class=
"footnote" href="#fnref17-11">Back</a></p>

<h3>Footnotes for Appendices</h3>

<p><a name="fna-1">1</a>. Austin Dobson. <em>Fielding</em>.
Appendix IV. p. 212-13; <em>and Eighteenth Century Vignettes</em>,
1896, pp. 164-178. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnrefa-1">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fna-2">2</a>. Austin Dobson. <em>Fielding</em>.
Appendix IV. p. 212-13; <em>and Eighteenth Century Vignettes</em>,
1896, pp. 164-178. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnrefa-2">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fna-3">3</a>. J. Nichols. <em>History and Antiquities
of Leicestershire</em>. 1810. Vol. iv. Pt. I. p. 594. <a class=
"footnote" href="#fnrefa-3">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fna-4">4</a>. Austin Dobson. <em>Fielding</em>, p. 192.
<a class="footnote" href="#fnrefa-4">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fna-5">5</a>. T. Whitehead. <em>Original Anecdotes of
the late Duke of Kingston</em>, 1795. p. 95. <a class="footnote"
href="#fnrefa-5">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fna-6">6</a>. <em>Some Hapsburghs, Fieldings, Denbighs
and Desmonds</em>, by J. E. M. F. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnrefa-6">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fna-7">7</a>. <em>Somerset and Dorset Notes and
Queries</em>. Vol. viii. p. 353. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnrefa-7">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fna-8">8</a>. Morrison Manuscripts. Catalogue. <a
class="footnote" href="#fnrefa-8">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fna-9">9</a>. <em>The Athenaeum</em>. February 1. 1890.
<a class="footnote" href="#fnrefa-9">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fna-10">10</a>. <em>History of Wiltshire</em>. Sir R.
C. Hoare; volume entitled "Old and New Sarum or Salisbury," by R.
Benson and H. Hatcher, 1843. p 602. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnrefa-10">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fna-11">11</a>. Lysons. <em>Environs of London</em>,
edition of 1795. Vol. i. part iii. p. 544. <a class="footnote"
href="#fnrefa-11">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fna-12">12</a>. <em>Ibid</em>. Edition 1811. Vol. i. p.
10. <a class="footnote" href="#fnrefa-12">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fna-13">13</a>. Manning and Bray. <em>History of
Surrey</em>, 1814, vol. iii. p. 316. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnrefa-13">Back</a></p>

<p><a name="fna-14">14</a>. Letters and Works of Lady Mary Wortley
Montagu, edited by Lord Wharncliffe and W. M. Thomas. Vol. ii. p.
3, note I, and p. 22. <a class="footnote" href=
"#fnrefa-14">Back</a></p>

<p><strong>Links to Appendices</strong></p>

<p><a href="#appendixa">A</a> <a href="#appendixb">B</a> <a href=
"#appendixc">C</a> <a href="#appendixd">D</a> <a href=
"#appendixe">E</a> <a href="#appendixf">F</a> <a href=
"#appendixg">G</a> <a href="#appendixh">H</a> <a href=
"#appendixi">I</a> <a href="#appendixj">J</a></p>
</div>








<pre>





End of Project Gutenberg's Henry Fielding: A Memoir, by G. M. Godden

*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HENRY FIELDING: A MEMOIR ***

***** This file should be named 8136-h.htm or 8136-h.zip *****
This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
        http://www.gutenberg.org/8/1/3/8136/

Produced by Charles Aldarondo, Tiffany Vergon, Robert
Connal and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.

Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will
be renamed.

Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright
law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works,
so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United
States without permission and without paying copyright
royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part
of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm
concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark,
and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive
specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this
eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook
for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports,
performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given
away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks
not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the
trademark license, especially commercial redistribution.

START: FULL LICENSE

THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK

To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full
Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at
www.gutenberg.org/license.

Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic works

1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all
the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or
destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your
possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a
Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound
by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the
person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph
1.E.8.

1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be
used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few
things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See
paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this
agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below.

1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the
Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection
of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual
works in the collection are in the public domain in the United
States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the
United States and you are located in the United States, we do not
claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing,
displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as
all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope
that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting
free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm
works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the
Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily
comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the
same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when
you share it without charge with others.

1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are
in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States,
check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this
agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing,
distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any
other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no
representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any
country outside the United States.

1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:

1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other
immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear
prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work
on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the
phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed,
performed, viewed, copied or distributed:

  This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
  most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no
  restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it
  under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this
  eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the
  United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you
  are located before using this ebook.

1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is
derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not
contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the
copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in
the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are
redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project
Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply
either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or
obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm
trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.

1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any
additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms
will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works
posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the
beginning of this work.

1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.

1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
Gutenberg-tm License.

1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including
any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access
to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format
other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official
version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site
(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense
to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means
of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain
Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the
full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.

1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.

1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
provided that

* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
  the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
  you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed
  to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has
  agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project
  Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid
  within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are
  legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty
  payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project
  Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in
  Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg
  Literary Archive Foundation."

* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
  you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
  does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
  License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all
  copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue
  all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm
  works.

* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of
  any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
  electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of
  receipt of the work.

* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
  distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.

1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than
are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing
from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The
Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm
trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.

1.F.

1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project
Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may
contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate
or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or
other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or
cannot be read by your equipment.

1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
DAMAGE.

1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you
received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium
with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you
with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in
lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person
or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second
opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If
the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing
without further opportunities to fix the problem.

1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO
OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT
LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.

1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of
damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement
violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the
agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or
limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or
unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the
remaining provisions.

1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in
accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the
production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses,
including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of
the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this
or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or
additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any
Defect you cause.

Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm

Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of
computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It
exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations
from people in all walks of life.

Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future
generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary
Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see
Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at
www.gutenberg.org



Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation

The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary
Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by
U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.

The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the
mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its
volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous
locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt
Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to
date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and
official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact

For additional contact information:

    Dr. Gregory B. Newby
    Chief Executive and Director
    gbnewby@pglaf.org

Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation

Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations
($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
status with the IRS.

The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations
where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND
DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular
state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate

While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
approach us with offers to donate.

International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.

Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other
ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To
donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate

Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works.

Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project
Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be
freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and
distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of
volunteer support.

Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in
the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not
necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper
edition.

Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search
facility: www.gutenberg.org

This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.



</pre>

</body>
</html>
generated by cgit v1.2.3 (git 2.25.1) at 2026-02-09 05:36:15 +0000