THE UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY V 4 (oYro Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2017 with funding from University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign Alternates https://archive.org/details/essayonlifegeniu00murp_0 ✓ * ======= A N E S S A O N T H E LIFE and GEN O F HENRY FIELDING, Efq; T O Rand diRinguiflied from the common race of mankind, and by the efforts of extraordinary virtues breaking out into adts of magnanimity and public fpirit, or by a vigorous exertion of the faculties of the mind, enriching human life with the invention of arts, or the graces of elegant compofition, to attain that point of eminence, to which fucceeding times fhall look back with gratitude and admiration, is a lot afligned but to very few. The generality of people feem to be called into this world for no higher purpofes, than to breathe, to gaze at the fun, to eat and drink, to deep and expire. When little more than a century has rolled away, and a whole generation of men have pafled from nature to eternity, as the poet folemnly exprefles it, how few names, out of that wonderful multitude, Rand recorded to poRerity for any memorable performances, or any remarkable ufe made of their exiflefce ! Xerxes wept when he furveyed his millions round him, and reflected that in the courfe of a few years not one of them fhould remain upon the face of the earth ; but the reflection grows Rill more gloomy, when it is confidered, how few of them were ever to be heard of again ! It is a melancholy curiofity to caR an eye through the columns of chronology, where the princes, heroes, patriots, legis- lators. Y I u s 6 An ESSAY oil the LIFE and GENIUS lators, philofophers, poets, hiftorians, and artifts, who have figured in the world fince the creation almoft to the prefent day, arc all carefully preferv- ed, and like Egyptian kings embalmed for the notice of mankind : I low fcanty the number ! What a thrifty lift does it afford us, when we compare it with thofe prodigious bills of mortality which the perifhing generations, of whom we only know that they lived and they died, have furnifhed forth for the fpace of fix thoufand years ! It calls to our minds the battles recorded of Cyrus, Semiramis, and other eaftern fovereigns, in which we only know that they led an aftoniftiing number of millions to the field, and, almoft all, funk together into one undiftinguiftied ftate of oblivion. Nor fhould this obfervation c^rry with it a fatire upon the inadivity of mankind in general ; for many, no doubt, who have not, to ufe Lord Verulam’s expreffion, furvived the weathers of time, employ- ed themfelves in a courfe of laudable induftry, and ufed ftrenuous endeavours not to wear away their lives in filence, like the beafts of the field, prone to the earth, and fubfervient only to the excitements of appetite : But the fmall returns . I may ufe a modern military phrafe) of good and ferviceable men, muff: not only be owing to the viciflitudes of human affairs, and the devaluations of wars civil and religious, but alio to the arduous difficulty of ferving mankind by public condud, or performing any thing in the arts either elegant or ufeful, and fo bequeathing to pofterity a lading legacy. To the number of thofe, who by the vigour of their talents, and the vivacity of their wit, feem to have enlarged the bounds preferibed, in the common courfe of things, to the memory of man, and gained a pafs-port to future ages, may be added the late Henry Fielding, whofe Works will be admired, while a tafte for true humour remains in this country. The materials of his own monument he has left behind him, fcattered indeed without arrangement, and difperfed about the world : Thefe, in juftice to fo eminent an author, Mr. Millar has determined to colled: together, that the public may have, in one body, a good and valuable edition of writings, whofe merit is fo univerfally ac- knowledged. In the progrefs of this defign it naturally occurred, that our author would be followed by the fame kind of curiofity, which ever attends on thofe, who have made themfelves confpicuous in their time; which, with folicitude and an at- tachment to their memories, loves to inform itfelf of the minuteft circumftan- ces relating to them, where they were born, of what ftature they were, of what temper of mind, what difficulties they met with in life, and with what difpo- fition they met thofe difficulties, whether with defpondency or fortitude, wuth gaiety or morofenefs, what fort of companions they were, with other anecdotes of the fame nature. That the generality of readers, even though our author’s memory is ftill recent in the minds of many, would exped to be gratified in thefe ^particulars, was a very obvious remark ; and therefore it w r as refolved to prefix t.o this edition an Effay on the Life and Genius of Henry rielding. Of HENRY FIELDING, Efq; 7 In complying with this ufual demand of the curious, it is not the intention of the prefent writer to difturb the manes of the dead, as has been praCtifed by certain biographers ; to infult his memory with an unneceflary detail of his diftreflfes, and the actions which refulted from them ; to infer the character of his heart from the overflowings of fudden and momentary paflions j to tear off ungeneroufly the (hroud from his remains, and purfue him with a cruelty of narrative, till the reader’s fenfe is (hocked, and is forced to exprefs his horror, like Virgil’s TEneas, when he meets in the regions of the dead the (hade of his mangled friend, Deiphobe armipotens , genus alto a fanguine Teucri, §>uis tam crudeles optavit fumere pcenas ? Cui tantum de te licait l It will, it is hoped, be fufficient for the reader’s curiofity if the principal fea- tures of his mind are here delineated ; if his temper is (hewn, as much of it, at lead;, as he transfufed into his writings ; if fome account be given of his fa- mily, and of the various (ituations in life which his fortune allotted him. For more than this the author of this little trad has determined not to ranfack ; for it is not the entire hiftory of the man, but the memoirs of an author, which he propofes to offer to the public. Henry Fielding was born at Sharpham Park in Somerfetlhire near Glaf- tonbury, April 22, 1707. His father, Edmund Fielding, ferved in the wars under the Duke of Marlborough, and arrived to the rank of Lieutenant Gene- ral at the latter- end of George I. or the beginning of George II. He was grandfon to an earl of Denbigh ; nearly related to the Duke of Kingfton, and many other noble and refpedable families. His mother was the daughter of Judge Gold, the grandfather of the prefent Sir Henry Gold, one of the Barons of the Exchequer. By thefe his parents he had four Afters, Catharine, Urfula, Sarah and Beatrice ; and one brother, Edmund, who was an officer in the ma- rine fervice. Sarah Fielding, his third After, is well known to the literary world by the proofs (lie has given of a lively and penetrating genius in many elegant performances, particularly David Simple, and the letters, which (he after- wards publifhed, between the characters introduced into that work. The rea- der will fee a very juft criticifm on thefe performances at the end of the fecond Volume of thefe Works; where, though the affeCtion of the brother appears, yet the author (hews himfelf the friend of truth as well as his After. Our author’s mother having paid her debt to nature, Lieutenant General Fielding married a fecond time, and the ifliie of that marriage were Ax fons, George, James, Charles, John, William, and BaAl, all dead, excepting John, who is at prefent in the commiflion of the peace for the counties of Middlefex, Surry, Eflex, and the Liberties of Weftminfter, and has lately been raifed to the honour of knighthood 8 An E S S A Y on the LIFE and GENIUS knighthood by his Majcfty, in reward of that zeal and fpirited afliduity with which he ■ ferves his country as a public magiftrate. Henry Fielding received the firft rudiments of his education at home, under the care of the Rev. Mr. Oliver, to whom, we may judge, he was not under any confiderable obligations from the very humorous and ftriking portrait given of him afterwards under, the name of parfon Trulliber, in Jofcpb Andrews . From Mr. Oliver’s care our authoi was removed to Eton School, where he had the advantage of being early known to many of the firft people in the kingdom, namely Lord Lyttelton, Mr. Fox, Mr. Pitt, Sir Charles Hanbury Williams, and the late Mr. Winnington, &c. At this great feminary of edu- cation, Henry Fielding gave diftinguiffiing proofs of ftrong and peculiar parts ; and when he left the place, he was faid to be uncommonly verfed in the Greek authors, and an early mafter of the Latin claftics ; for both which he retained a ftrong admiration in all the fubfequent paflages of his life. Thus accomplished he went from Eton to Leyden, and there continued to Shew an eager third; for knowledge, and to ftudy the civilians with a remarkable application for about two years, when, remittances iailing, he was obliged to return to London, not then quite twenty years old. It is to be lamented that an excellent courfe of education was thus inter- rupted, as there is ?o manner of doubt but with fuch excellent endowments from nature, as he certainly poffefled, he might, by a continuance at a feat of learning, have laid in a much ampler (tore of knowledge, and have given fuch a complete improvement to his talents, as might afterwards have (hone forth with ftill greater luftre in his writings ; not to mention that in a longer and more regular courfe of ftudy, he might have imbibed fuch deep impreffions of an early virtue, as would have made him lefs acceflible afterwards tothofe allure- ments of pleafure, which, though they could not fupprefs the exertion of his genius, yet retarded its true vigour, and, like clouds around the fun, made it feem to ftruggle with oppofing difficulties, inftead of throwing out at once a warm, an equal, and an intenfe heat. At this period however our author had provided himfelf with a fund of more folid learning than ufuallyisthe portion of perfons of his age, and his mind was at leaft fo feafoned with literature, that amidft his wildeft diffipations afterwards, nothing could fubdue the love of reading which he had fo early contracted. It appears from a preface to one of his plays, that he had conceived an early inclination lor dramatic compofition ; the comedy called Don Quixote in England, having made partof his literary amufement at Leyden ; though, by h i 5 own account, it Should feem that what he executed Oi it theie, was little more than his caqvafs in a more advanced age, when he gave it to the ftage with additional frrokes of humour, and higher colourings than his inexperience had beftowed upon it at firft. The play contains a true vein of good fenfe and fa- tire, though his ufual hurrv in the production of his pieces did not afford him lei lure, Of Ii E N R Y FIELDING, Efq; 9 leifure, when he once determined to offer it to the public, to give it all the dramatic finifhings requifite in a complete piece. Mr. Fielding’s cafe was ge- nerally the fame with that of the poet defcribed by Juvenal-, w'ith a great genius he muft have ftarved, if he had not fold his performance to a favourite ador. Efurit, intattam Paridi nifi vcndit Agaven. To the fame motive we muft afcribe the multiplicity of his plays, and the great rapidity with which they were produced ; for we find that tho’ fuch a writer as Mr. Congreve was content in his whole life to produce four comedies and one tra- gedy, yet the exigence of our author’s affairs required at his hand no lefs than eight entire plays, befides fifteen farces, or pieces of a fubordinate nature. It has been often a matter of wonder that he, who moft undoubtedly poffeffed a vein of true and genuine humour, fhould not have proved more fuccefsful in his theatrical produ&ions, that is to fay, fhould not in fome legitimate comedy have difcovered the future father of Joseph Andrews, Tom Jones, and Amelia. This how- ever, from what has been premifed, feems pretty fairly accounted for ; but yet for the real caufe of this inequality we muft ftill go fomewhat deeper than this remark, which lies too palpable upon the furface of things. The enquiry may perhaps not be incurious, and it fhall be purfued in its due place, when we come to analyfe his genius, and determine its nature and quality. At the age of twenty years, or thereabout, Henry Fielding returned from Leyden to London ; in the fulleft vigour of conftitution, which was remarkably ftrong, and patient of fatigue ; ftill unfhaken by excefles of pleafure, and un- conquered by midnight watchings, till frequent returns of the gout attacked him with a feverity, that made him, in the latter part of his days, a melancholy repentant for the too free indulgencies of his youth, and drove him at length to Lifbon in the hopes of lingering a little longer in life. From the account of his voyage to that place we may judge of the adivity of his mind, and the ftre- nuous flow of his fpirits, which, under a complication of infirmities, could yet prompt him to the exercife of his wit and the fallies of his imagination. What then muft have been the gaiety and quicknefs of his fancy, when his ftrength was yet unimpaired by illnefs, and when young in life curiofity was eager to know the world, and his paflions were ready to catch at every hook pleafure had baited for them ? It is no wonder that, thus formed and difpoled for enjoy- ment, he launched wildly into a career of diflipation. Though under age, he found himfelf his own mafter, and in London: Hoc fonte derivata clades ! From that fource flowed all the inconveniencies that attended him throughout the remainder of his life. The brilliancy of his wit, the vivacity of his hu- mour, and his high relift) of locial enjoyment, foon brought him into high re- queft with the men of tafte and literature, and with the voluptuous of all ranks ; to the former he was ever attentive, and gladly embraced alb opportunities of aflociating with them if the latter often enfnared him, and won from him too Vol. I. a great lo An ESSAY on the LIFE and GENIUS great a portion of his time, it cannot be wondered at, confidcring the grccnncts of his years, the fenfibility of his temper, and the warmth of his imagination. His finances were not anfwerable to the frequent draughts made upon him by the extravagance which naturally followed. He was allowed two hundred pounds a-year by his father, which, as he himfelf ufed to fay, “ any body might pay that would.” The fa< 5 t was, General Fielding, with very good inclinations to fupport his fon in the handfomefl: manner, very foon found it impra&icablc to make fuch appointments for him, as he could have wifhed. He had married again foon after the death of our author’s mother, and had fo large an increafe of family, and that too fo quick, that, with the neceflary demands of his ftation for a genteel and fuitable expencc, he could not fpare out of his income any confi- derable dilburfements for the maintenance of his eldeft fon. Of this truth Henry Fielding was fenfible, and he was therefore, in whatever difficulties he might be involved, never wanting in filial piety, which, his neareft relations agree, was a fhining part of his character. By difficulties his refolution was never fubdued ; on the contrary, they only rouzed him to ftruggle through them with a peculiar fpirit and magnanimity. When he advanced a little more in life, and his commerce with mankind became enlarged, difappointments were obferved by his acquaintance to provoke him into an occafional peevifhnefs, and feverity of animadverfion. This however had not a tendency to embitter his mind, or to give a tinge to his general temper ; which was remarkably gay, and for the mofl part overflowing into wit, mirth, and good humour. As he difdained all littlenefs of fpirit, wherever he met with it in his dealings with the world, his indignation was apt to rife ; and as he was of a penetrating dif- cernment, he could always develope felfiffinefs, miftruft, pride, avarice, interefted friendfliip, the ungenerous, and the unfeeling temper, however plaufibly difguifed ; and as he could read them to the bottom, fo he could likewife aflault them with the keeneft ftrokes of fpirited and manly fatire. Amongft the many fine traits of defeription in that character, which Tacitus has left us of Agricola, there is a very delicate touch, which occurs to me at prefent, and feems applicable to the temper of our author; his reproof was fometimes thought to carry with it a degree of afperity ; as to the good and amiable, he was polite, to the un- worthy he was rather harfh ; but his anger once vented, there remained no trace of it ; from his fecrecy and filence you had nothing to apprehend. Apud quof- dam acerbior in conviciis narrabatur ; ut bonis, comis , it a adverfus malos injneundus. Ceterum ex iracundia nihil fupererat : fecretum & JHentium ejns non t ilneres. Oil- agreeable impreflions never continued long upon his mind; his imagination was fond of feizing every gay prolpedt, and in his word adverfities filled him with fanguine hopes of abetter fituation. To obtain this, he flattered himfelf that he flhould find his refources in his wit and invention ; and accordingly he com- menced a writer for the ftage in the year 1727, being then about twenty years of age. 3 His Of IIENRY FIELDING, Efq; 1 1 Ills flirffc dramatic piece foon after adventured into the world, and was cal- led Love in fever a l Mafques. It immediately fucceeded the Provoked Hufband , a play, which, as our author obferves, for the continued fpace of twenty-eight nights received as great and as juft applaufes, as ever were beftowed on the Englifti ftage. “ Thefe, fays Mr. Fielding, were difficulties, which feemed rather to require the fuperior force of a IVycherley or a Congreve than a raw and unexpe- rienced pen (for I believe 1 7nay boa (l that none ever appeared fo early upon the ftage” ) Notwithftanding thefe obitacles, the play, we find, was favourably re- ceived : and confidering that it was his firft attempt, it had, no doubt, the marks of a promifing genius. His fecond play, the Temple Beau , appeared the year after, and contains a great deal of fpirit and real humour. Perhaps in thofe days, when audiences were in the aera of delicate and higher comedy, the fuc- cels of this piece was not very remarkable ; but furely pieces of no very fu- perior merit have drawn crowded houles within our own memory, and have been attended with a brilliancy of fuccefs ; not but it mull be acknowledged that the picture of a Temple Rake fince exhibited by the late Dr. Hoadly in the Sufpicious Hulband, has more of what the Italians cA\ Fortunato, than can be allowed to the carelefs and hafty pencil of Mr. Fielding. It would lead a great way from the intention of this effay fhould we attempt to analyfe the feveral drama- tic compofitions of this author ; and indeed, as he confeffedly did not attain to pre-eminence in this branch of writing, at leaft was unequal to his other productions, it may be fufficient to obferve that from the year 1727 to the end of 1736, almoft all his plays and farces were written, not above two or three having appeared fince that time j fo that he produced about eighteen theatrical performances, plays and farces included, before he was quite thirty years old. No feleCtion has been made of thofe pieces, but they are all printed together in this edition, that the public might have the entire theatre of Henry Fielding. For though it muft be acknowledged that in the whole collection there are few plays likely to make any confiderable figure on the ftage hereafter, yet they are worthy of being preserved, being the works of a genius, who in his wildeft and moll inaccurate productions, yet occafionally difplays the talent of a mafter. Though in the plan of his pieces he is not always regular, yet is he often happy in his diCtion and ftile j and in every groupe, that he has exhibited, there are to be feen particular delineations that will amply recompence the attention beftowed upon them. The comedy of the Mifer, which he has moftly taken from Moliere, has maintained its ground upon the ftage ever fince it was firft performed, and has the value of a copy from a great painter by an eminent hand. If the comedy of Pafquin were reftored to the ftage, it would perhaps be a more favourite entertainment with our audiences than the much admired Rehearfal -, a more rational one it certainly would be, as it would undoubt- edly be better underftood. The Rehearfal at prefent feems to be received ra- ther from prefeription than any real delight it affords : it was the work of a noble wit, and the objeCt of its fatire was one of the greateft geniufes of this nation, the immortal Dryden. Thefe two circumftances gave the play a won- a 2 derful 12 An ESSAY on the LIFE and GENIUS derful eclat on its firft appearance » and the wit and humour of the parodies were undoubtedly very high-flavoured. But has it not loft its relifli at prefent ? and does not the whole appear a wild caricatura which very few can refer to any original objedts ? However, its traditional fame ftill procures for it a fafhion- able prejudice in its favour; and for the fake of having the favourite adtor, who performs the part of Bayes, continually before the eye, we crowd to it ftill, whenever it is adted, and we laugh, and applaud, and roar and “ wonder with “ a foolifh face of praife.” What Mr. Dryden has faid concerning this celebrated performance, is but a mild judgment from one, who might have ul'ed more exafperated language. “ I have anfwered not the Rehearfal,” fays he, “ becaufe “ I knew the author fat to himfelf, when he drew the pidture, and was the “ very Bayes of his own farce. Becaufe alfo I know that my betters were more “ concerned than I was in that fatire; and, laftly, becaufe Mr. Smith and Mr. “ Johnfon, the main pillars of it, were two fuch languifhing gentlemen in their “ converfation, that I could liken them to nothing, but their own relations, “ thofe noble characters of men of wit and pleafure about the town.” But fenfe furvhed when merry jejis were pajl , as his generous rival has fung fince ; and Dryden is now the admiration of his country. The Pafquin of Fielding came from the pen of an author in indigence, or, as the late Colly Cibber has contumelioufly called him, a broken wit ; and therefore, though its fuccefs was confiderable, it never fhone forth with a luftre equal to its merit ; and yet it is a compofition that would have done honour to the Athenian ftage, when the Middle Comedy, under the authority of the laws, made ufe of fictitious names to fatyrife vice and folly, however dignified by honours and employ- ments. But the middle comedy did not flourifh long at Athens; the archnefs of its aim, and the poignancy of its fatire foon became offenfive to the officers of ftate ; a law was made to prohibit thofe oblique ftrokes of wit, and the co- mic mufe was reftrained from all indulgences of perfonal fatire, however hu- mouroufly drawn, under the appearance of imaginary characters; The fame fate attended the ufe of the middle comedy in England ; and it is faid that the wit and humour of our modern Arijlcp banes, Mr. Fielding, whofe quarry in fome of his pieces, particularly the Hijlorical Rcgijlcr, was higher game than in pru- dence he fhould have chofen, were principal inftruments in provoking that law, under which the Britiffi theatre has groaned ever lince. But the minifter was fore, and in his refentment he ftruck too deep a blow. Had he conlidered that by the bill, which afterwards paffied into a law, he was entailing fhivery on the mufes, and that a time might come, when all dramatic genius fhould there- by be led a vafial in the train of the managers of the theatre, to be gracioufly foftered, or haughtily opprefled, according to their caprice and prejudice ; per- haps then, as he was himfelf of a large and comprehenfive underflanding, and poffefifed befides the virtues of humanity, he might have been contented with milder reftriCtions, and not have made the remedy almoft worfe than the difeafe. But licentioufnefs was to be retrenched, and liberty received a ftab in the ope- ration : Of H E N R Y FIELDING, Efq; 13 ration : luxuriant branches, that were extravagant in their growth were to be lopped away, and to make fliort work of it, the woodman in a fit of anger ap- plied his ax to the root of the tree. The tree, it is true, is not quite fallen to the ground] but it is grown faplefs, withered and unproductive ; its annual fruits want the high flavour, which they might have in a more generous nurfe- ry ; no wood- notes wild are heard from its branches, and it is exaCtly in the- ftate defcribed by Lucan ; Lrunco, non frondibus efficit umbratn. But it may be afked, are the players to be judges of the king’s minifters ? Shall grimace and mimickry attack the moft exalted characters ; and muft the great officers of ftate be, at the mercy of the aCtors, exhibited on a public ftage ? Why no; — except in a coronation, I think, his Majefty’s fervants fhould not- be made ridiculous j and the dangerous tendency of this buffooning kind of humour is ftrongly marked by a learned writer *, when he obferves that “ this “ weapon, in the diffolute times of Charles II. completed the ruin of the beft “ minifter of that age. The hiflorians telb us, that Chancellor Hyde was “ brought into his Majefty’s contempt by this court argument. They mi- “ micked his walk and gefture, with a fire fhovel and bellows for the mace “ and purfe. Thus it being the reprefentation, and not the objeCt reprefented, ; “ which ftrikes the fancy, vice and virtue muft fall indifferently before it.” If fuch were the effects of private mimickry, public drolls would undoubtedly' be found of more pernicious confequence. Away with them therefore ; they are illiberal, they are unworthy ; let licentioufnefs be banifhed from the theatres, but let the liberty of the free-born mufe be immortal ! The true idea of li- berty confifts in the free and unlimited power of doing whatever fhall not in- jure the civil and religious inftitutions of the ftate, nor be deemed invafive of' the peace and welfare of our fellow-fubjeCts ; but dramatic authors are fo cir-- cumftanced at prefent, that this invaluable bleffing is withdrawn from them ; the mufes are enflaved in a land of liberty, and this at leaft fhould excufe the poets of the age for not rifing to nobler heights, till the weight is taken off,- which now depreffes their ftrongeft efforts. It muft be allowed, that in re-- ftraining the licentioufnefs of the theatre our legiflature very wifely imitated the good fenfe of the Athenian magiftracy, Vvho by law interdicted the freedoms of the Middle Comedy; but it is to be wilhed that they had alfo imitated the moderation of the Greek lawgivers, who, when they refolved to give a check to indecorum, yet left a free and unbounded fcope to the New Comedy , which confifted in agreeable and lively reprefentations of manners, paflions, virtues,- vices, and follies from the general volume of nature, without giving to any part of the tranfcript the peculiar marks or Angularities of any individual. Thus poets were only hindered from being libellers, but were left in full ppffeffion of * The author cf the Divine Legation of Mofes, ufeful i 4 An ESSAY on the LIFE and GENIUS uleful and general fatire, and all avenues of accefs to the public were generoufly thrown open to them. As we have at prefent the happinefs of living in a reign, when majedy condefcends to look with a favourable afped on the liberal arts, many are fanguine enough to entertain hopes that the mufe may be rr- leafed from her fetters, and redored to the free exercife of the amiable part of her province. When a bee has been deprived of its noxious fling, it may be fafely permitted to rove at large among all the flowers of a garden ; and it will be no inconfiderable addition to the luflre of the crown, if with an Au- gustan Reign of equity, moderation, vidory, and wifdom, which every Briton promifes himfelf, there be alfo revived an Augustan Age of Letters. Though the foregoing obfervations may appear digreflivc from the main de- fign of this eflay, yet as the fubjed is important, and took its rife in a great meafure from the writings of Mr. Fielding, to advert awhile to the confequcncc' which flowed to the community from his adions, cannot be deemed altogether impertinent. It is only like going out of the way a little to trace a rivulet in its progrefs, to mark its windings, to obferve whether it bellows fertility on the neighbouring meadows, and then returning to the flraight road, to purfue the regular trad of the journey. In the comedy called Rape upon Rape , or the Coffee- houfe Politician , we have .an admirable draught of a charader very common in this country, namely, a man who is fmitten with an infatiable third for news, and concerns himfelf more about the balance of power than of his books. The folly of thefe datef- men out of place is there exhibited with a maflerly ridicule; and indeed in all the plays of our author, however in fome refpeds deficient, there are flrokes of humour and half-length paintings not excelled by fome of the ablefl artifls. The farces written by Mr. Fielding were almofl all of them very fuccefsful, and many of them are dill aded every winter with a continuance of approbation. They were generally the produdion of two or three mornings, fo great was his facility in writing ; and to this day, they bear frequent repetition, at lead as well as any other pieces of the kind. It need not be obferved, in judification of their being preferved in this colledion of more important works, that farce is deemed by our bed critics an appendage of the theatre as well as pieces of a higher nature. A learned and excellent * critic has given it a full confideration in his Differtation on the feveral Provinces of the Drama. “ The reprefentations,” fays he, “ of common nature may either be taken accurately, fo as to refled a faith- <« ful and exatt image of their original, which alone is that I would call Co- “ medy ; or they may be forced and overcharged above the Ample and jud u proportions of nature ; as when the excefles of a few are given for funding ft charaders, when not the Man (in general) but the paffion is deferibed ; or u when, in the draught of the man, the leading feature is extended beyond * The Rev. Mr. Hurd. €€ meafure ; Of HENRY FIELDING, Efq; i 5 <* meafure ; and in thefe cafes the reprefentation holds of the province of “ farce.” These remarks, from the penoffo accurate and fen fible a writer, will evince that our author’s farces very juflly make a part of this edition. The mock tragedy of Tom Thumb is replete with as fine parody as, perhaps, has ever been written: the Lottery, the Intriguing Chambermaid, and the Virgin Unmasked, befides the real entertainment they afford, had on their firfl appearance this additional 'merit, that they ferved to make early difcoveries of that true comic genius which was then dawning forth in Mrs. Clive, which has fince unfolded itfelf to a fullnefs of perfection, and continues to this day to be one of the trued; ornaments of the ilagc. As this excellent adtrefs re- ceived great advantages from the opportunities Mr. Fielding’s pen afforded her, l'o he, in his turn, reaped the fruits of fuccefs from her abilities, and accord- ingly we find him acknowledging it in a very handfome letter addrelfed to her, and prefixed to the Intriguing Chambermaid: fuch a teflimony of her merit, as it conduced to advance her progrefs, fo it now will ferve to perpe- tuate her fame, being enrolled in the records of a genius, whofe works will be long admired. “ I cannot help reflecting, fays our author, that the town has one “ obligation to me, who made the firfl difcovery of your great capacity ■, and brought “ you earlier forward on the theatre , than the ignorance of J'ome , and the envy of “ others would have otherwife permitted. I fhall not here dwell on any thing fo “ well known as your theatrical merit, which one of the finefl judges, and the “ great efl man of his age, hath acknowledged to exceed in humour that of any of your “ predeceffors in his time.” If this remark was true thirty years ago, it may be added, to her honour, that fhe hath not been eclipfed by any, who have entered- into the fervice of the comic mufe fince that time. As this effay promifes to treat of the genius, as well as the life of Henry Field- ing, it may not be improper to paufe here for an enquiry into his talents, though we are not arrived at that period of his life, when they difplayed them- felves in their full warmth and fplendor. And here it is necelTary to caution, the reader not to confine his idea of what is intended by the word genius to any one fingle faculty of the mind; becaufe it is obfervable that many miflakes have arifen, even among writers of penetrating judgment, and well verfed in cri- tical learning, by haflily attaching themfelves to an imperfect notion of this term fo common in literary differtations. That invention is the firfl gre3t lead- ing talent of a poet has been a point long fince determined, becaufe it is princi- pally owing to that faculty of the mind that he is able to create, and be as it were a Maker, which is implied in his original title given to him by the con- fent of Greece. But furely there are many other powers of the mind as fully eflential to conflitute a fine poet, and therefore, in order to give the true cha- racter of any author’s abilities, it fhould feem neceffary to come to a right un- derflanding of what is meant by Genius, and to analyle and arrange its leve- ral • i6 An ESSAY on the LIFE and GENIUS ral qualities. This once adjufted, it might prove no unpleafing talk to examine what are the fpecific qualities of any poet in particular, to point out the talents of which he feems to have the freeft command, or in the ufe of which he feems, as it were, to be left-handed. In this plain fair-dealing way the true and j-eal value of an author will be eafily afeertained ; whereas in the more confined method of inveftigation, which eftablifhes, at the outlet, one giant- quality, and finding the objedt of the enquiry deficient in that, immediately proceeds to undervalue him in the whole, there feems to be danger of not try- ing his caufe upon a full and equitable hearing. Thus, I think, a late cele- brated poet is likely to fufFer an unjuft fentence from a gentleman, who has al- ready obliged the public with the firft volume of an Eflay on his Life and Ge- nius. The common aflertion which has been in every half-critic’s mouth, namely, that Mr. Pope had little invention, and therefore has but a bad claim to the name of poet, feems to be unguardedly adopted in the very beginning of that ingenious and entertaining work ; and from that principle the conclu- sion will probably decide againft our Englilh Homer. From the elegant, and, in general, true fpirit of criticifm, which the Eflayift on Mr. Pope’s Life and -writings is acknowledged to poflefs, it was reafonably to be expedted that he would have taken a comprehenfive view of what Invention is, and then exa- mined how far the want of it can be charged upon his author. But in that point, -does he not feem to think him defencelefs, when he aflerts that it is upon the merit of the Rape of the Lock that he will rank as a poet with pofterity ? The introduction of machinery into this beautiful poem, Mr. Wharton feems to think fhews more invention than any other compofition of the Twickenham bard; tho’ even in this point he deals out to him the reputation of a Maker with a fparing and a thrifty hand. As the book is near me, I will tranferibe his words : “ It is in this compofition Pope principally appears a poet, in ** which he has difplayed more imagination than in all his other works taken « together: It fhould however be remembered that he was not the first *< former and creator of thofe beautiful machines the Sylphs, on which his “ claim to imagination is chiefly founded. He found them exifting ready to his *» hand, but has indeed employed them with Angular judgment and artifice.” But furely in the ufe made of the Sylphs and Gnomes , and the various employ- ments afiigned to thofe imaginary beings, the Britifh author is as much a Poet, as manifeftly a Maker, as the great father of the epic fable. Homer invented not the gods and goddefles which he has interwoven in his immortal Rhapfody. He took up the fyftem of theology which he found received in Greece. “He “ rofe,” fays Mr. Pope, “ with the fineft turn imaginable for poetry, and, de- n figning to inftrudt mankind in the manner for which he was moft adapted, “ made ufe of the miniftry of the gods to give the higheft air of veneration to “ his writings. Nor was it his bufinefs, when he undertook the province of a ** poet (not of a mere philofopher) to be the firft who fliould difeard that, s* which furnilhes poetry with its moft beautiful appearance. Whatever there - i* fore he might think of his gods, he took them as he found them ; he “ brought Of H E N R Y FIELDING, Efq ; 17 “ brought them into a&ion according to the notions which were then enter- “ tained, and in fuch ftcries as were then believed.” In the fame manner, the author of the Rape of the Lock availed himfelf of the Roficrucian fyftem, as he found it fet forth in a French book, called, “ Le Comte de Gabalis,” and to thofe ideal beings he has given fuch a miniftry, fuch interefts, affedtions, and employments as carried with them fufficient poetical probability, and made a very beautiful machinery in his poem, enlarging the main adtion, and ennobling the trifles, which it celebrates ; not to mention that the fuperintendency of thofe imaginary agents was as new in poetry, as the Minijleria Deorum in the Iliad or Odyfley. Perhaps, if the matter could be traced with accuracy, and a full know- ledge of the ftate of learning, the various fyftems of theology, and all the doc- trines, opinions, and fables, which exifted in Homer’s days, could be attained, we ftiould find that the invention of the father of epic poetry, did not fo much conlift in creating new exiftencies, and ftriking out new ideas, as in making a poetic ufe of the fabulous deities which previoufly exifted in the imagina- tions of mankind, and in forming new combinations of thofe ideas, which had been conceived before, but had never been arranged in thofe complexities into which his fancy was able to difpofe them. Thus we find that Homer’s cele- brated defeription of the ftate of the dead, is an abfolute copy of the rites, cu- ftoms, and ceremonies obferved by the Egyptians at their funerals. The di- ftribution of rewards and punifhments, the refidence of the blefied in the Ely- fian fields, and the fhadows of the deceafed, correfpond exactly, fays Diodorus Si- culus, with the funerals of the Egyptians. The Grecian Mercury was founded upon the cuftom of a man’s delivering a dead body to be conveyed or carried by an- other, who wore a malk with three heads refembling the fiction of Cerberus. The Ocean was no other than the Nile, and was even fo called by the Egyptians ; the gates of the fun, meant the town of Heliopolis; and the manfions of the happy, the delightful country about the lake Acherufia, near Memphis, where the dead were depofited in fubterraneous vaults. Many other circumftances alfo agree with the folemnities of Egypt, as they w r ere praftifed in the time of Diodorus; as the boat in which the deceafed were carried ; the ferryman, who was called Charon in the language of the country ; the temple of Hecate, placed by the poets at the entrance of the infernal regions ; the gates of Cocytus and Lethe fliut with bars of brafs, and the gates of Truth, where there was an image of Juftice. Minos and Rhadamanthus were indeed names taken from Crete, but the ideas were derived from the Egyptian cuftom of fitting in judgment upon the life, manners, and conduct of the dead, before they were allowed the rites of lepulture. And even ftrong traces of the puniftiment of Tityos , Tantalus, and Sifyphus, appear in the antiquities of Egypt ; not to mention that the allotment of the daughters of Danaus , is a manifeft allufion to the ceremony of three hundred and twenty priefts pouring water from the Nile into a veflel with holes in the bottom, at a city not far from Memphis. The Greek traveller and hi- ftorian enumerates many other myftic traditions, fables, and religious ceremo- nies, from which the poet made palpable infertions into his work : Sir ]ohn ^ oe. I. b Mariham i8 An ESSAY on the LIFE and GENIUS Matfliam alfo, elaborate in his refearches into antiquity, has pointed out, in the Canon /Egypt iacus, a confiderablc number of thofe transfufions from the cuftoms and theology of Egypt. 13ut it would lead too far from the fcopc of this cflay, fhould we enter into a detail of thefe matters ; the curious reader may, if he pleafes, lee this enquiry purfued with great tafte and accuracy by the ingenious author of the Enquiry into the Life and Writings of Homer j who makes it fufti- ciently evident that Egypt, like its own Nile upon the adjacent country, over- flowed with all the fertility of fcience, fable, and mythology, to enrich the vTfl and capacious imagination of the Grecian bard. It will be proper however to add one'obfervation more in this place, namely, that Homer was not the full who faw that the Aliatic cuftoms, manners, and learning were capable of being perpetuated with that venerable air, with which they have come down to po- fterity : a very ill uilrious ornament both of the republic of letters and the church *, in a mod admirable diflertation on the fixth book of the /Encid, has obferved that “ in the Mysteries, the defeription of the pajj'agc into the “ other world was borrowed” by the Egyptians themfelves, “ as was natural, “ from the circumfiances of their funeral rites : and it might eajily be proved , •“ if there were occajion , that they themfelves transferred thefe realities into the “ MT0OI, and not the Greeks, as later writers generally imagine.” The fame learned enquirer into antiquity has remarked in another part of the fame trad, that if “ an old poem , under the name of Orpheus, intit led, a Defcent into Hell, had “ been now extant, it would, perhaps , have fhewn us that no more was meant “ than Orpheus's initiation.” Now as it is a fettled point that Orpheus preceded Homer, what lhall we fay of that invention which all fucceeding ages have agreed to call the very origin and fountain of poetry ? Shall we, in the ftile of the ancient or the modern Zoilus, illiberally call his immortal Rhapfodies mere patch-work plundered from the fopperies of /Egypt ? Shall we not rather admire and venerate the vigour of that mind, which, in an age of general darknefs and ignorance, could, by unabating induftry, by indefatigable travels, and a conflant purfuit of knowledge, fo replenifh itfelf with the ftores of morality, hiflory, politics, geography, fable, and theology, as to import them all into Greece from the various Afiatic climes, which he had vifited, and interweave them into the texture of two poems, adorned and dignified with all the graces of the molt fruitful imagination ? If Homer did not originally form and create thofe pro- digious images which abound in his work; if he was not the Maker of many of thofe fables, particularly the Defcent into Hell, which mankind have fo much admired, he at leaft found out the ufe and application of them ; the combination of thofe ideas was his own ; the fcheme was his which aflembled them all into that wonderful union ; in other words, the general fable was Homer’s, and it required no lefs a genius to give uniformity amidft fuch an exuberance of variety, intricacy and complication, with fuch a noble perfpicuity, fuch a ccnfent of parts fo uniting, as the painters exprefs it, into harmony, and rifing gradually into fuch a wonderful whole, that, as Mr. Pope exprefies it. * The author of the Divine Legation of Mofes. it Of HENRY FIELDING, Efq ; j 9 it /hall always f and at the top of the fublime char artery to he gazed at by rea- ders with an admiration of its perfection , and by writers with a defpair that it ft: outd ever be emulated with fuccefs. There can be no manner of doubt but Ho- mer, from the fecundity of his own fancy, enriched his poetry with many noble deferiptions and beautiful epifodes which had never prefented themlelveft to any of his predeceffors : but as the models of many pafiages are ftill extant in the records of antiquity, it muft be allowed that he polfelied two forts of invention ; one, primary and original, which could alTociate images never be- fore combined ; the other, fecondary and fubordinate, which could find out for tnofe ideas, which had been aflembled before, a new place, a new order, and arrangement, with new embellifhments of the moft harmonious and exalted language. From this obfervation arifes the true idea of Invention; and whether a poet is hurried away into the defeription of a fictitious battle, or a grand council of gods or men, or employs hirnfelf in giving poetic colourings to a real fyftem of Myferies , (as Virgil has done in the fixth fEneid) there is invention in both cafes ; and though the former may aftonifh more, the latter will always have its rational admirers, and from fuch a commentary as the Bifhop of Gloucefter’s, inflead of lofing from its influence, will appear with a truer and more venerable fublime, than when it was confidercd as the mere vifionary fcheme of a poetic imagination. Thus then we fee the two provinces of In- vention ; at one time it is employed in opening a new vein of thought ; at an- other, in placing ideas, that have been pre-occupied, in a new light, and lend- ing them the advantages of novelty by the force of a fublimer diction, or the turn of delicate compofition. There is a poetic touch that changes whatever it lights upon to gold ; and furely he who calls forth from any objeCt in nature, or any image of the mind, appearances that have not been obferved before, is the Inventor, the Maker of thofe additional beauties. There is reafon to be- lieve, that of what we have called Primary, or Original Invention, there has not been fo much in any one poet (not even excepting Homer) as has been - generally imagined ; and indeed, from the many fine deferiptions in the Iliad and the Odyfley, which can fairly be proved to be copies, but the copies of a mafter- poet, there feems room to think, that of the fecond fort he held a very confiderable portion. Norfhould this remark be thought derogatory from the high character of the bard, becaufe it only tends to fhew that he availed hirnfelf of all the knowledge, religion, and mythology, that in his time were fcattered over the. different regions of Afia and Greece. What is here alferted concerning Homer, may alfo with truth be aflerted of Mr. Pope. Determining to acquire the ex- alted character of a poet, he enriched his mind with all the knowledge that fublifted in his time ; all that could be furniflied by the valuable remains of an- tiquity, all the improvements in fcience which modern application has brought to light, the pure morality and fublime theology which revelation has de- livered down to us, together with the various fyflems of philofophy, which fpeculative men have formed ; and of all thefe he has made as noble an ufe as a fine imagination could fuggeft. The fcheme of thought which introduces his b 2 acquired 20 An ESSAY on the LIFE and GENIUS •acquired ideas into any of his poems, was finely his own j theViRTUE and Vf.nus of Order, which he has given to them, was his own; the apt allulion which illuftrates, the metaphor which railes his language into dignity, the general fplendor of his didtion, the harmony of his numbers, and in fhort, the poetic turn of his pieces, were all his own ; and all thefe furely were the work of In- vention. And as this Invention glows equally through all his poetry, it is not eafy to conceive upon what principle it can be faid, that upon the liriglc ftrength of the Rape of the Lock he will rank as a poet with pofterity. Can it be faid that Invention folely coniifts in deferibing imaginary beings? or that where there is not what the critics call a Fable, that is to fay, an unity of adtion, with all the various perplexities and incidents which retard or accele- rate the progrefs of that adtion, together with a proper degree of marvellous machinery. Invention mull be proferibed, and declared to have no hand in the work ? Even in this way of reafoning, the Dunciad will be an everlafting inftance of Mr. Pope’s Invention,, and will, perhaps, conftitute him a poet in a degree fuperior to the Rape of the Lock , however exquifite it be in its kind. But thefe two pieces (if we except the latter part of the fourth Dunciad, which is in its fubjedt important, and in its execution fublime) feem to be but the fpor- tive exercife of the poet’s fancy ; or as he himfelf, talking of the Batrachomy- omachia , has exprefted it, they are “ a beautiful raillery, in which a great writer might delight to unbend himfelf ; an inftance of that agreeable trilling, which *« generally accompanies the charadter of a rich imagination ; like a vein of «* mercury running mingled with a mine of gold.” The Eflay on Man will always ftand at the top of the fublime char after : a noble work indeed, where wc find the thorny reafonings of philofophy blooming and fhooting forth into all the flowers of poetry ; feret & rubus afper amomum ! To give to a fubjedt of this kind fiich beautiful embellifhments, required, in Lord Shaftfbury’s language, a Mufe- like apprehenfon ; and I cannot fee why the treating of effential truths in a poetic manner fhould not be allowed as cogent an inftance of Invention, as the ornamented difplay of an Egyptian theology. The Georgies would have gain- ed Virgil the name of poet, though the JEneid had never been written ; and Mr. Pope muft ever be considered by pofterity as a Christian Lucretius. It was perhaps harder to give a poetic air and grace to the following ideas, than to deferibe the imaginary beings of the Roficrucian philofophy, or the fa- bulous deities of Greece. Say what the ufe, were finer optics given ? T’ infpedt a mite, not comprehend the heaven 1 The touch, if tremblingly alive all o’er. To fmart and agonize at ev’ry pore ? Or, quick effluvia darting thro’ the brain. Die of a rofe in aromatic pain ? If nature thunder’d in his op’ning ears. And ftunn’d him with the mufick of the fpheres. How 21 Of HENRY FIELDING, Efq ; How would he wiffi that heav’n had left him ftill The whifp'ring Zephir, and the purling rill ? An entire piece written in this true vein of poetry, requires as fine an imagina- tion to give grace, elegance, and harmony to the compofition, as any other fubjeCt whatever; and though fable, including various incidents, pafiions, and characters, be wanting, yet he who forms a plan fuch as the nature of his materials require, and in a barren field finds the moft beautiful flowers to adorn his defign, can never in reafon be charged with a want of Invention. The three great primary branches of compofition are finely united in the writings of Pope ; the imagination is delighted, the pafiions are awakened, and reafon receives conviction ; there is poetry to charm, rhetoric to perfuade, and ar- gument to demonflrate : and perhaps i f Empedocles, whom Ariftotle pronounces a phijiologifl, rather than a poet, had been thus excellent in the graces of ftile, the great critic would have paffed upon him a lefs fevere fentence. It may be obferved by the reader, that in purfuing the foregoing train of re- flections, fight has been loft of Henry Fielding : but it never was intended, in this little traCt, to obferve the rules of ftriCt biography. Befides, men of genius, like the arts they praCtife, have a connection with each other, and are in a manner linked together by certain ties of affinity : habent quoddam commune vinculum , & quaji cognatione quadam inter fe continentur. Moreover, it was expe- dient, for the true delineation of an eminent writer’s character, to remove difficulties out of the way, and to explain the terms of art which critics make ufe of. And thus having ffiewn the different provinces of Invention, we may now arrive at a jufter idea of what is meant, when we talk of an author’s Genius. He may be truly faid to be a Genius, who poffeffes the leading faculties of the mind in their vigour, and can exercife them with warmth and fpirit upon whatever fubjeCt he chufes. The imagination (in order to form a writer of eminence) mull:, in particular, be very quick and fufceptible, or, as a fine poet has expreffed it, it mull be feelingly alive all o'er, that it may receive the ftrongeft impreflions either from the objeCts of nature, the works of art, or the actions and manners of men ; for it is in proportion as this power of the mind is wrought upon, that the author feels in his own breaft thofe fine fen- fations, which it is his bulinefs to impart to others, and that he is able to de- fcribe things in fo lively a manner, as to make them, as it were, prefent to us, and of confiequence to give what turn he pleafes to our affeCtions. The Judg- ment alfo mull be clear and ftrong, that the proper parts of a ftory or de- fcription may be feleCted, that the difpolition of the various members of a work may be fuch, as to give a lucid order to the whole, and that fuch exprefiion may be made ufe of as fhall not only ferve to convey the intended ideas, but fhall convey them forcibly, and with that decorum of ftile which the art of o - compofition _ 22 An ESSAY on the LIFE and GENIUS compofition requires; fo that fimplicity Shall not be impoveriihed into mern- nefs, nor dignity be incumbered with a load of finery, and afl’o&cd orna- ment. Invention muft alfo concur, that new feenery may be opened to the ' fancy, or at leaft that new lights may be thrown upon the profpcCts of nature ; that the fphere of our ideas may be enlarged, or a new aSTemblagc may be formed of them, either in the way of fable or illustration, fo that if the author does not difclofe original traces of thinking, by prefenting to us objects unfeen ' before, he may at leaft delight by the novelty of their combination, and the points of view in which he offers them. The power of the mind, moreover, which exerts itfelf in what Mr. Locke calls the aflociation of ideas, muft be quick, vigorous, and warm, becaufe it is from thence that language receives its animated figures, its bold translation of phrafes from one idea to another, the Verbwn ardens , the glowing metaphorical exprefiion, which conftitutes the rich- nefs and boldnefs of his imagery ; and from thence likewife fprings the readi- nefs of ennobling a fentiment or defeription with the pomp of fublime compa- nion, or Striking it deeper on the mind by the aptnefs of witty allufion. Per- haps what we call genius, might be ftill more minutely analyfed ; but thefc are its principal efficient qualities; and in proportion as thefe, or any of thefe, iliall be found deficient in an author, fo many degrees Shall he be removed from the firft rank and character of a writer. To bring thefe remarks home to the late Mr. Fielding, an eftimate of him may be juftly formed, by enquiring how i'ar thele various talents may be attributed to him ; or if he failed in any, what that faculty was, and what difeount he muft Suffer for it. But tho’ it will ap- pear, perhaps, that when he attained that period of life, in which his mind was come to its full growth, he enjoyed every one of thefe qualifications, in great Strength and vigour; yet in order to give the true character of his talents, to mark the distinguishing fpecific qualities of his genius, we muft look into the temper of the man, and fee what byafs it gave to his understanding ; for when abilities are poffeifed in an eminent degree by feveral men, it is the pe- culiarity of habit that muft diferiminate them from each other. A love of imitation very foon prevailed in Mr. Fielding’s mind. By Imi- tation the reader will not understand that illegitimate kind, which confifts in mimicking Angularities of perfon, feature, voice or manner ; but that higher fpecies of reprefentation, which delights in juft and faithful copies of human life. So early as when he was at Leyden, a propenfity this way began to exert its emotions, and even made fome efforts towards a comedy in the Sketch of Don Quixote in England. When he left that place, and fettled in London, a variety of characters could not fail to attraCt his notice, and of courfe to Strengthen his favourite inclination. It has been already obferved in this elfay, that diftrefs and disappointments betrayed him into occalional fits of pecviSh- nefs, and fatyric humour. The eagernefs of creditors, and the fallacy of dil- feinbling friends, would for a while Sower his temper ; his feelings were acute, and naturally fixed his attention to thofe objeCts from whence his unCafinefs Sprung ; Of HENRY FIELDING, Efq; 2^ fprung; of courfc he became, very early in life, an obferver of men and man- ners. Shrewd and piercing in his dilcernment, he faw the latent fources of hu- man adtions, and he could trace the various incongruities of condudt ariiing from them. As the ftudy of man is delightful in itfclf, affording a variety of difeoveries, and particularly interefting to the heart, it is no wonder that he fhould feel delight from it ; and what v/e delight in foon grows into an habit. The various ruling paffions of men, their foibles, their oddities, and their hu- mours, engaged his attention; and from thefe principles he loved to account for the confequences which appeared in their behaviour. The inconfiftencies that flow from vanity, from affectation, from hypocrify, from pretended friend- fhip, and in fliort, all the diflonant qualities, which are often whimfically blend- ed together by the folly of men, could not fail to ftrike a perfon who had fo fine afenfe of ridicule. A quick perception in this way, perhaps, affords as much real pleafure as the exercife of any other faculty of the mind ; and accordingly we find that the ridiculous is predominant through all our author’s writings, and he never feems fo happy, as when he is developing a character made up of motley and repugnant properties, and thews you a man of fpecious pretences, turning out in the end the very reverfe of what he would appear. To fearch out and to deferibe objeCts of this kind, feems to have been the favourite bent of Mr. Fielding’s mind, as indeedit was of Theophraftus, Moliere, and others; like a vortex it drew in all his faculties,, which were fo happily employed in deferiptions of the manners, that upon the whole he muft be pronounced an admirable Comic Genius. When I call our author a Comic Genius, I would be underftood in the largeft acceptation of the phrafe, implying humorous and pleafant imitation of men and manners, whether it be in the way of fabulous narration, or dra- matic compofition. In the former fpecies of writing, lay the excellence of Mr. Fielding : but in dramatic imitation he muft be allowed to fall fhort of the great mailers in that art; and how this hath happened to a Comic Genius, to one eminently pofleifed of the talents requifite in the humorous provinces of the drama, will appear at the firft bluih of the queflion fomething unaccount- able. But feveral caufes concurred to produce this effieCt. In the firft place, without a tinCture of delicacy running through an entire piece, and giving to good fenfe an air of urbanity and politenefs, it appears to me that no comedy will ever be of that kind, which Horace lays, will be particularly defired, and feen, will be advertifed again. I know that the influence of a favourite per- former may for a time uphold a middling production ; but when a Wilks leaves the ftage, even a Sir Harry V/ildair will be thrown by negleCted. The idea of delicacy in writing, I find fo well explained in an ingenious effay on that fubjeCt now on the table before me, that I (hall tranferibe the paflage. “ Delicacy ,” fays this polite author, “ is good fenfe ; but good fenfe refined - } which produces an “ inviolable attachment to decorum , and fanblity as well as elegance oj manners , with a clear difeernraent and warm ferfibility of whatever is pure , regular , “ and (< 24 An ESSAY on the LIFE and GENIUS “ and polite ; and, at the fame time, an abhorrence of whatever is grofs, ruftic, or “ impure ; of unnatural, effeminate , and overwrought ornaments of every kind. It is, “ in fort , the graceful and the beautiful added to the juft and the good.” By {hatching the grace here defined and defcribed, the late Colly Cibber has been able in a few of his plays to vie with, and almoft outftrip, the greateft wits of this country; and by not adverting to this embellilhment, this liberal air of exprefiion, if I may fo call it, Mr. Fielding, with ftrong obfervation upon life, and excellent difcernment of the humorous and the ridiculous, in Ihort, with a great Co- mic Genius, has been rather unfuccefsful in Comedy. There feems to me little or no room to doubt but that this want of refinement, which we here com- plain of, was principally owing to the woundings which every frelh dil'appoint- ment gave him, before he was yet well difciplined in the fchool of life, and hackney’d in the ways of men ; for in a more advanced period, when he did not write recentibus odiis, with his uneafinefs juft beginning to feller, but with a calmer and more difpaflionate temper, we perceive him giving all the graces of defcription to incidents and paflions, which in his youth he would have dalhed out with a rougher hand. An ingenious writer *, to whom we have already referred, has paffed a judgment upon Ben fonfon, which, though Fielding did not attain the fame dramatic eminence, may be juftly applied to him. “ His tafte for ridicule was ftrong, but indelicate, which made him «* not over-curious in the choice of his topicks. Andlaftly, his Jlyle in piCtur- “ ing his chambers, tho’ mafterly, was without that elegance of hand, which is “ required to correct and allay the force of lo bold a colouring. Thus the byafs of « his nature leading him to Plautus, rather than Terence, for his model, it is not “ to be wondered that his wit is too frequently cauftic ; his raillery coarfe ; ** and his humour exceftive.” Perhaps the afperity of Fielding s mufe was not a little encouraged by the practice of two great wits, who had fallen into the fame vein before him ; I mean Wycherley and Congreve , who were in general painters of harfh features, attached more to fubjeCts of deformity than grace ; whole drawings of women are ever a fort of Harlot s Progrefs, and whofe men for the moft part lay violent hands upon deeds and fettlements, and generally deferve informations in the king’s bench. Thefe two celebrated writers were not fond of copying the amiable part of human life; they had not learned the fe- cret of giving the lofter graces of compolition to their tablatuie, by contrafting the fair and beautiful in characters and manners to the vicious and irregular, and thereby rendering their pieces more exaCt imitations of nature. By mak- ing Congreve his model, it is no wonder that our author contracted this vicious turn, and became faulty in that part of his art, which the painters would call Design. In his ftyle, he derived an error from the fame fource : he fometimes forgot that humour and ridicule were the two principal ingredients of comedy ; and, like his mafter, he frequently aimed at decorations of wit, which do not ap- pear to make part of the ground, but feeni rather to be embroidered upon it. It has been obferved •'j', that the plays of Congreve appear not to be legitimate co~ * Mr. Hurd. t See the Adventurer. medics, Of HENRY FIELDING, Efq; 25 medics, , but firings of repartees and /allies of wit, the mofi poignant and polite in- deed, but unnatural and ill-placed. If we except the Old Batchelor, Forefight * and Sir Sampfon Legend, there will hardly, perhaps, be found a character in this lively writer exempt from this general cenfure. The frequent furprizes of allufion, and the quicknefs and vivacity of thofe hidden turns, which abound in Mr. Congreve, breaking out where you leaft expected them, as if a train of wit had been laid all around, put one in mind of thofe fire-works in a water- piece, which ufed formerly to be played off" at Cupers Gardens ; no fooner one tube, charged with powder, raifed itfelf above the furface, and vented itfelf in, various forms and evolutions of fire, but inftantly another and another was lighted up ; and the pleafure of the fpeCtators arofe from feeing fecret artificial mines blazing out of an element, in which fuch a machinery could not be ex- pected. The fame kind of entertainment our author aimed at, too frequently* in his comedies ; and as in this he bore a fimilitude to Wycherley and Congreve , fo he alfo frequently refembled them in the indelicacy, and Sometimes the down- right obfeenity of his raillery ; a vice introduced, or, at leaff, pampered by the wits of Charles II. the dregs of it, till very lately, not being quite purged away. There is another circumftance refpeCting the drama, in which Fielding s judg- ment feems to have failed him : the Strength of his genius certainly lay in fa- bulous narration, and he did not fufficiently confider that fome incidents of a Story, which, when related, may be worked up into a deal of pleafantry and humour, are apt, when thrown into action, to excite fenfations incompatible with humour and ridicule. I will venture to fay, that if he had refolved to Ihape the bufinefs and characters of his laft comedy (the Wedding Day) into the form of a novel, there is not one Scene in the piece, which, in his hands, would not have been very fufceptible of ornament : but as they are arranged at prefent in dramatic order, there are few of them from which the tafte and good fenfe of an audience ought not, with propriety, to revolt. When Virgil is prepar- ing the cataflrophe of his Dido, the critics have never objected to him that he deferibes the nurfe with a motherly and officious care tottering along the apartments: Ilia gradum Jludio celerabat anilu . ' But woe to the tragic poet, that Should offer to prefent the fame circumftance to the eye of an audience ! The Tom Jones of our author, and the Gil Bias of Le Sage, ftill continue to yield univerfal delight to their refpeCtive readers but two late attempts to dramatize them, if I may fo call it, have demonstrated that the characters and incidents of thofe applauded performances, which, when figured to us by the imagination only, are found fo agreeable and interesting, lofe much of their comic force and beauty, when they are attempted to be re^ alifed to us on the ftage. There are objeCts and parts of nature, which the rules of compofition will allow to be deferibed, but not actually to be produced on the fcene, becaufe they are attended with fome concomitant circumstances, ^’ol. I. c which 26 . An E S S A Y on the L I F E and GENIUS which in the narrative are overlooked, but, when lhewn to view, prefs too hardly on the mind, and become indelicate. Segnius irritant amnios demiffa per aurem §>uam qua funt oculis Jubjcth Jidehbus, £r qua Jibi tradit Jpebiator. To thete caufes of our author’s failure in the province of the drama, may be added that fovereign contempt he always entertained for the underftandings of the generality of mankind. It was in vain to tell him that a particular fccnc was dangerous on account of its coarfenefs, or becatife it retarded the general bufmefs with feeble efforts of wit ; he doubted the difeernment of his auditors, and fo thought himfelf fecuredby their ftupidity, if not by his own humour and vivacity. A very remarkable inffanceof this dil'poiition appeared, when the co- medy of the Wedding Day was put into rehearfal. An aCtor, who was princi- pally concerned in the piece, and, though young, was then, by the advantage ol happy requifites, an early favourite of the public, told Mr. Fielding he was ap- p rehen five that the audience would make free with him in a particular paflage ; adding, that a repulfe might fo flurry his fpiritsas to difconcert him for the reft of the night, and therefore begged that it might be omitted. “ No, d-mn “ ’em," replied the bard, “ if the fccne is not a good one, let them find that “ out.” Accordingly the play was brought on without alteration, and, juft as had been forefeen, the difapprobation of the houfe was provoked at the paflage before objected to; and the performer, alarmed and uneafy at the hifles he had met with, retired into the green-room, where the author was indulging his genius, and folacing himfelf with a bottle of champain. He had by this time drank pretty plentifully; and cocking his eye at the aCtor, while ftieams of tobacco trickled down from the corner of his mouth, “ What's the matter , Garrick ? fays he, what are they biffing now? Why the fee ne that I begged you to retrench ; I knew it would not do, and they have fo frightened me, that I fliall not be able to colleCt myfelf again the whole night. Oh ! d—mn 'em , re- plies the author, they have found it out ; have they ?” — If we add to the foregoing remarks an oblervation of his own, namely, that he left off writing for the ftage, when he ought to have begun ; and together with this conflder his extreme hurry and difpatch, we (hall be able fully to account for his not bearing a more diftinguifhed place in the rank of dramatic writers. It is apparent, that in the frame and conftitution of his genius there was no defeCt, but fome faculty or other was fuffered to lie dormant, and the reft of courfe were exerted with lefs efficacy : at onetime we fee his wit fupercedmg all his other talents ; at another his invention runs riot, and multiplies incidents and characters in a manner repugnant to all the received laws of the drama. Generally his judgment was very little confulted. And indeed, how could it be ©therwife ? When he had contracted to bring on a play, or a farce, it is well 1 known Of HENRY FIELDING, Efq; 27 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 fcene to the players written upon the papers, which had wrapped the tobacco, in which he fo much delighted. Notwithstanding the inaccuracies, which have arifen from this me- thod of proceeding, there is not a play in the whole collection which is not remarkable for fomc degree of merit very ftriking in its kind ; in general, there prevails a fine idea of character ; occafionallv, we lee the true comic both of fi- xation and fentiment ; and always, we find a ftrong knowledge of life, deliver- ed indeed with a cauftic wit, but often zefted with fine infufions of the ridicu- lous : fo that, upon the whole, the plays and farces of our author are well wor- thy of a place in this general edition of his works ; and the reader, who perules them attentively, will not only carry away with him many ufeful difcoveries of the foibles, affectations, and humours of mankind, but will alfo agree with me that inferior productions are now fuccefsful upon the Rage. As it was the lot of Henry Fielding to write always with a view to profit, it cannot but mortify a benevolent mind to perceive, from our author’s own ac- count (for he is generally honefi enough to tell the reception his pieces met with) that he derived but fmall aids towards his fubfiftence from the treaiurer of the play- houfe. One of his farces he has printed as it was damned at the theatre royal in Drury-lane; and that he might be more generous to his enemies than they were willing to be to him , he informs them, in thegeneral preface to hisMifcellanies, that for the Wedding Day , though aCted fix nights, his profits from the houfe did not exceed fifty pounds. A fate not much better attended him in his earlier productions ; but the feverity of the public, and the malice of his enemies met with a noble alleviation from the patronage of the late Duke of Richmond, John Duke of Argyle, the late Duke of lloxborough,and manyperfonsof diRinguiflied rank and character; among whom may be numbered the prefent Lord Lyttelton, whofe friendlhip to our author foftened the rigour of his misfortunes, while he lived, and exerted itfelf towards his memory, when he was no more, by taking pains to clear up impu- tations of a particular kind, which had been thrown out againR his character. Mr. Fielding had not been long a writer for the Rage, when he married Mifs Craddock, a beauty from Salilbury. About that time his mother dying, a moderate efiate at Stower in Dorfetfliire devolved to him. To that place he retired with his wife, on whom he doated, with a refolution to bid adieu to all the follies and intemperancies to which he had addicted himl'elf in the career of a town-life. But unfortunately a kind of family-pride here gained an af- cendant over him, and he began immediately to vie in iplendor with the neigh- bouring country fiquires. With an eltate not much above two hundred pounds a-year, and his wife’s fortune, which did not exceed fifteen hundred pounds, he encumbered himfelf with a large retinue of fervants all clad in cofily yellow liveries. For their mailer’s honour, thefe people could not delccnd fo low as to c 2 be 28 An ESSAY on the LIFE and GENIUS be careful in their apparel, hut in a month or two were unfit to be fecn ; the Iquirc’s dignity required that they fhould be new-equipped *, and his chid plcal'ure confuting in lbciety and convivial mirth, hofpitality threw open his doors, and, in lets than three years, entertainments, hounds and horfes entirely devoured a little patrimony, which, had it been managed with ceconomy, might have fe- cured to him a ftate of independence for the reft of his life ; and, with inde- pendence, a thing ftill more valuable, a character free from thofc interpreta- tions, which the feverity of mankind generally puts upon the actions of a man, whofe imprudencies have led him into difficulties : for when once it is the fa- ftiion to condemn a character in thegrofs, few are willing to diftinguilh between the impulfes of necefiity, and the inclinations of the heart. Senfible of the dis- agreeable fituation he had now reduced himfelf to, our author immediately de- termined to exert his belt endeavours to recover, what he had wantonly thrown away, a decent competence j and being then about thirty years of age, lie betook himfelf to the ftudy of the law. The friendships he met with in the courfc of his ftudies, and indeed through the remainder of his life, from the gentlemen of that profeftion in general, and particularly from fome, who have fince rifen to be the firft ornaments of the law, will for ever do honour to his memory. His application, while he was a ftudent in the Temple, was remarkably intenfe ; and though it happened that the early tafte he had taken of pleafure would oc- cafionally return upon him, and confpire with his fpirits and vivacity to carry him into the wild enjoyments of the town, yet it was particular in him that amidft all his diffipations nothing could fupprefs the thirft he had for knowledge, and the delight he felt in reading ; and this prevailed in him to fuch 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 extra&s from the moll abftrufe au- thors, for feveral hours before he went to bed ; fo powerful were the vigour of his conflitution and the activity of his mind. A parody on what Paterculus fays of Scipio might juftly be applied to Henry Fielding : always over a focial bottle or a book, he enured his body to the dangers of intemperance, and ex- ercifed his mind with ftudies : femperque inter arma ac Jludia verfatus , aut cor- pus periculis, aut animum difeiplinis exercuit. After the cuftomary time of pro- bation at the Temple, he was called to the bar, and was allowed to have car- ried with him to Weftminfter Hall no incompetent (hare of learning. He at- tended with punctual afliduity both in term-time and on the Weftern circuit, as long as his health permitted him; but the gout foon began to make fuch af- faults upon him, as rendered it impoftible for him to be as conftant at the bar as the laborioufnefs of his profeffion required : he could only now follow the law by fnatches, at fuch intervals as were free from indifpofition ; which could not but be a difpiriting circumftance, as he faw himfelf at once difabled from ever riling to the eminence he alpired to. However, under the feverities of pain and want, he ftill purfued his refearches with an eagernefs of curiofity peculiar to him ; and, though it is wittily remarked by Wycherley, that Apollo and Littleton feldom meet in the fame brain, yet Mr. Fielding is allowed to have acquired Of H E N R Y FIELDING, Efq; 29 acquired a refpettablc fhare of jurifprudence, and in fome particular branches he is laid to have arifen to a great degree of eminence, more efpecially in crown- law, as may be judged from his leaving two volumes in folio upon that fubjedt. This work ftill remains unpublifhed in the hands of his brother, Sir John Fielding ; and by him I am informed that it is deemed perfect in fome parts. It w iH ferve to give us an idea of the great force and vigour of his mind, if we con- lider him purluing fo arduous aftudy under the exigencies of family-diftrefs, with a w 7 ife and children, whom he tenderly loved, looking up to hrm for fubfift- ence, with a body lacerated by the acuteft pains, and with a mind diftradted by a thoufand avocations, and obliged for immediate fupply to produce almoft ex- tempore a play, a farce, a pamphlet, or a news-paper. A large number of fu- gitive political tradls, which had their value when the incidents were actually paffing on the great fcene of bufinefs, came from his pen : the periodical paper, called the Champion, owed its chief fupport to his abilities ; and tho’ hiseflaysin that collection cannot now be fo afcertained, as to perpetuate them in this edition of his works, yet the reputation ariling to him at the time of publication was not inconliderable. It does not appear that he ever wrote much poetry : with fuch talents as he polfelfed, it cannot be fuppofed that he was unqualified to ac- quit himfelf handfomely in that art ; but corredt verification probably required - more pains and time than his exigencies would allow. In the preface to his Mifcellanies he tells us, that his poetical pieces were moftly written when he was very young, and were produdtions of the heart rather than of the head. He adds, that this branch of writing is what he very little pretended to, and was very little his purfuit. Accordingly, out of this edition, which is intended to confift entirely of pieces more highly finilhed than works of mere amufement generally are, his verfes are all difcarded : but as a fpecimen of his ability in this way, it is judged proper to preferve, in this Efiay on his Life and Genius, one fhort piece, which the reader will not find unentertaining. An EPISTLE To the Right Honourable Sir Robert Walpole, TT 7 HILE at the helm of Hate you ride, * ' Our nation’s envy and its pride ; While foreign courts with wonder gaze. And curfe thofe councils, which they praile •, Would you not wonder. Sir, to view Your bard a greater man than you ? Which that he is, you cannot doubt. When you have read the fequel out. You An ESSAY on the LIFE and GENIUS . You know, great Sir, that ancient fellows, Philofophers, and fuch folks, tell us, No great analogy between Greatnefs and happinefs is feen. If then, as it might follow ftreight. Wretched to be, is to be great ; Forbid it, Gods, that you fhould try What 'tis to be fo great as I. The family that dines the lateft, Is in our ftreet efteem’d the greateft ; But lateft hours muft furely fall ’Fore him, who never dines at all. Your tafte in architect, you know, Hath been admir’d by friend and foe ; But can your earthly domes compare With all my caftles — in the air ? We're often taught, it doth behove us To think thofe greater, who’ re above us; Another inftance of my glory. Who live above you, twice two ftory ; And from my garret can look down On the whole ltreet of Arlington *. Greatness by poets ftill is painted With many followers acquainted : This too doth in my favour fpeak ; Tour levee is but twice a week ; From mine I can exclude but one day. My door is quiet on a Sunday. Nor in the manner of attendance Doth your great bard claim lefs afcendance ; Familiar you to admiration May be approach’d by all the nation ; While I, like the Mogul in Indo, Am never feen but at my window. If with my greatnefs you’re offended. The fault is eafily amended ; For I’ll come down with wondrous eafe. Into whatever place you pleale. * Where Sir Robert lived. 3 * Of HENRY FIELDING, Efq; I’m not ambitious ; little matters Will ferve us great, but humble creatures. Suppofe a Secretary o’ this ifle [ud to be doing with a while ; Admiral, gen’ral, judge, or bidiop : Or I can foreign treaties difli up. If the good genius of the nation ■* Should call me to negociation, T ufcan and French are in my head, Latin I write, and Greek — I read. If you fhould afk, what pleafes bed ? To get the mod, and do the lead. What fitted for ? — You know. I’m fure. I’m fitted for a Jine-cure. This piece, it appears, was written in the year 1730, and it fhews at once our author’s early acquaintance with didrefs, and the firmnefs of mind, which he fupported under it. Of his other works (I mean fuch as were written before his genius was come to its full growth) an account will naturally be expected in this place ; and fortunately he has fpoken of them himfelf in the diicourfe pre- fixed to his Mifcellanies (which is not reprinted in the body of this edition) in terms fo moded and fenfible that I am fure the reader will difpenie with any other criticifm or analyfis of them. “ The Eflay on Converfation,” fays Mr. Fielding, “ was defigned to ridicule out of fociety, one of the mod pernicious evils which attends it, viz. pamper- ing the grofs appetites of felfidinefs and ill-nature, with the diame and dis- quietude of others ; whereas true good-breeding confids in contributing to the fatisfadtion and happinefs of all about us.” © “ The Efiay on the Knowledge of the Ghar afters of Men expofes a fecond great evil, namely hypocrify ; the bane of all virtue, morality and goodnefs ; and may lerveto arm the honed, undefigning, open-hearted man, who is generally the prey of this monder, againd it.” The Journey from this World to the Next, it fliould feem, provoked the dull, Ihort-fighted, and malignant enemies of our author to charge him with an in- tention to fubvert the fettled notions of mankind in philofophy and religion : for he adures us, in form, that he did not intend, in this allegorical piece, “ to oppofe any prevailing fydem, or to eredt anew one of his own. With greater judice,” he adds, “ that he might be arraigned of ignorance, for having, in the “ relation which he has put into the mouth of Julian, whom they call the “ Apodate, done many violences to hidory, and mixed truth and falfehood <£ ,with 3*. An ESSAY on the LIFE and GENIUS “ with much freedom. But he profeffcd fidlion, and though he chofc fomc “ fa^ts out of hidory, to embellHh his work, and fix a chronology to it, he ** ^ as no *» however, confined himfelf to nice exadtnefs, having often ante- " dated, and fometimes pod-dated the matter, which he found in the Spanifli “ hidory, and tranfplanted into his work.” The reader will find a great deal of true humour in many pafiages of this produdtion ; and the furprize with which he has made Mr. Addifon hear of the Eleujiman Myjleries , in the fixtli A^neid, is a well turned compliment to the learned author who has, with fo much elegance and ability, traced out tile analogy between Virgil’s fydem and thofe memorable rites. With regard to the Hidorv of "Jonathan Wild , his defign, he tells us, was not “ to enter the lids with tnat excellent hidorian, who, from authentic pa- “ pers and records, &c. hath given fo fatisfadtory an account of this great man; “ nor yet to contend with the memoirs of the ordinary of Newgate, which ge- “ nerally contain a more particular relation of what the heroes are to fuffer in ** the next world, than of what they did in this. The hidory of Jonathan 41 Wild is rather a narrative of fuch adtions, as he might have performed, or *■* “ would, or fhould have performed, than what he really did ; and may in rea- “ jity as well fuit any other fuch great man, as the perfon himfelf, whofe name “ it bears. As it is not a very faithful portrait of Jonathan Wild ’, fo neither is 44 it intended to reprefent the features of any other perfon ; roguery, and 44 not a rogue, is the fubjedt ; fo that any particular application will be un- “ fair in the reader, efpecially if he knows much of the great world, fince he “ m «d then be acquainted with more than one, on whom he can fix the re- 44 femblance.” Our author proceeds to give a further account of this work in a drain, which rtiews, however converfant he might be in the charadlers of men, that he did not fuffer a gloomy mifanthropy to take fuch poffeflion of him, as to make him en- tertain depreciating ideas of mankind in general, without exceptions in favour of a great part of the fpecies. Though the paffage be long, I fhall here trail feribe it, as it will prove fubfervient to two purpofes : it will throw a proper light upon the Hidory of Jonathan Wild y and it will do honour to Mr. Fielding’s fen- timents. 44 I folemnly proted,” fays he, 44 that I do by no means intend, in the “ charadter of my hero, to reprefent human nature in general. Such infinua- 44 tions mud be attended with very dreadful conclufions ; nor do I fee any other 44 tendency they can naturally have, but to, encourage and footh men in their 44 villanies, and to make every well-difpofed man difclaim his own fpecies, 44 and curfe the hour of his birth into fuch a fociety. For my part, I under- “ dand thofe writers, who deferibe human nature in this depraved charadter, 44 as fpeaking only of fuch perfons as Wild and his gang ; and, 1 think, it may ** be judly inferred, that they do not find in their own bofoms any deviation 4i from the general rule. Indeed it would be an infufferable vanity in them “ to Of H E N R Y FIELDING, Efq; 33 “ to conceive themfelves as the only exception to it. Bui without confulering “ Newgate as no other than human nature with its maflt off, which fome very “ fhamelefs writers have done, I think we may be excufed for fufpedting, that “ the fplendid palaces of the great are often no other than Newgate with the “ mafk on ; nor do I know any thing which can raife an honeft man’s indig- “ nation higher, than that the fame morals fhould be in one place attended “ with all imaginable mifery and infamy, and in the other, with the higheft “ luxury and honour. Let any impartial man in his fenfes be afked, for which “ of thefe two places a compofition of cruelty, luft, avarice, rapine, infolence, “ hypocrify, fraud and treachery, is beft fitted ? Surely his anfwer mud be cer- “ tain and immediate ; and yet I am afraid all thefe ingredients, gloffed over “ with wealth and a title, have been treated with the higheft refpedt and ve- “ neration in the one, while one or two of them have been condemned to the “ gallows in the other. If there are then any men of fuch morals, who dare call “ themfelves great, and are fo reputed, or called at leaft, by the deceived mul- “ titude, furely a little private cenfure by the few is a very moderate tax for “ them to pay, provided no more was to be demanded : but however the glare of “ riches and awe of title may dazzle and terrify the vulgar ; nay, however hy- “ pocrify may deceive the more difeerning, there is ftill a judge in every man’s “ breaft, which none can cheat or corrupt, tho’ perhaps it is the only uncor- “ rupt thing about him. And yet, inflexible and honeft as this judge is (how- “ ever polluted the bench be on which he fits) no man can, in my opinion, en- “ joy any applaule, which is not adjudged to be his due. Nothing feems to “ me more prepofterous than that, while the way to true honour lies fo open “ and plain, men fhould feek falfe by fuch perverfe and ruggedpaths; that “ while it is fo eafy and fafe, and truly honourable to be good, men fhould “ wade through difficulty and danger, and real infamy, to be greats or to ufe “ a fynonimous word, villains. Nor hath goodnefs lefs advantage in the article “ of pleafure, than of honour, over this kind of greatnefs. The fame righteous “ judge always annexes a bitter anxiety to the purchafes of guilt, whilft it adds “ double dweetnefs to the enjoyments of innocence and virtue ; for fear, which, “ all the wife agree, is the moft wretched of human evils, is, in fome degree, v always attending the former, and never can in any manner moleft the happi- “ nefs of the latter. This is the dodtrine, which I have endeavoured to incul- M cate in this hiftory, confining myfelf at the fame time within the rules of *- probability : for, except in one chapter, which is meant as a burlefque on “ the extravagant accounts of travellers, I believe I have not exceeded it. And though perhaps it fometimes happens, contrary to the inftances I have given, that the villain fucceeds in his purfuit, and acquires fome tranfitory imper- “ fedt honour or pleafure to himfelf for his iniquity ; yet, I believe, he oftener fh ares the fate of Jonathan Wild , and fuffers the punifhment, without ob- “ taining the reward. As I believe it is not eafy to teach a more ufeful leflon “ than this, if I have been able to add the pleafant to it, I might flatter my- felf with having carried every point. But, perhaps, fome apology may be Vol. I. d “ required An ESSAY on the LIFE and GENIUS 3 + “ required of me, for having ufed the word greatnefs , to which the world «« have annexed fuch honourable ideas, in fo difgraceful and contemptuous a •* light. Now if the fad: be, that the greatnefs which is commonly worfliip- ped, is really of that kind which I have here reprefented, the fault feems «« rather to lie in thofe who have aferibed to it thofc honours, to which it hath “ not in reality the leaf: claim. The truth, I apprehend, is, we often con- *< found the ideas of goodnefs and greatnefs together, or rather include the «« former in our idea of the latter. If this be fo, it is furely a great error, and “ no lefs than a miftake of the capacity for the will. In reality, no qualities can «« be more diftind : for as it cannot be doubted but that benevolence, honour, «« honelty, and charity, make a good man ; and that parts and courage arc the « efficient qualities of a great man ; fo it muft be confefled, that the ingredients « which compofe the former of thefe charaders bear no analogy to, nor depend- « ence on thofe, which conftitute the latter. A man mdy therefore be great with- *< out being good, or good without being great. However, though the one bear «« no neceffary dependence on the other, neither is there any abfolute repugnancy «« among them, which may totally prevent their union ; fo that they may, “ though not of neceffity, aflemble in the fame mind, as they adually did, “ and all in the higheft degree, in thofe of Socrates and Brutus ; and perhaps « in fome among us. I at leaf!: know one, to whom nature could have added «« no one great or good quality, more than (he hath bellowed on him. Here «« then appear three diftind charaders ; the great, the good, and the great and « good. The laft of thefe is the true fublime in human nature ; that eleva- “ tion, by which the foul of man, raffing and extending itfelf above the order « of this creation, and brightened with a certain ray of divinity, looks down « on the condition of mortals. This is indeed a glorious objed, on which we «* can never gaze with too much praife and admiration. A perfed work ! the ** Iliad of nature ! raviffiing, and aftoniffiing, and which at once fills us with «< love, with wonder, and delight. The fecond falls greatly ffiort of thisperfedion, «« and yet hath its merit. Our wonder ceafes ; our delight is leffened ; but our «* love remains; of which paffion goodnefs hath always appeared to me the “ only true and proper objed. On this head, it may be proper to obferve, “ that I do not conceive my good man to be abfolutely a fool or a coward ; but “ that he often partakes too little of parts or courage to have any pretenfion to *« greatnefs. Now as to that greatnefs, which is totally devoid of goodnefs, “ it feems to me in nature to refemble the falfe fublime in poetry, where bom- “ baft is, by the ignorant and ill-judging vulgar, often miftaken for folid wit “ and eloquence, whilft it is in effed the very reverfe. Thus pride, oftenta- “ tion, infolence, cruelty, and every kind of villany, are often conftrued into “ true greatnefs of mind, in which we always include an idea of goodnefs. (t This bombaft greatnefs then is the charader I intend to expofe j and the more ** this prevails in and deceives the world, taking to itfelf not only riches and k pov/er, but often honour, or at lead: the fhadow of it, the more neceflary it is “ to ftrip the mo^er of thefe falfe colours, and Ihew it in its native defor- “ mity $ Of HENRY FIELDING, Efq ; 35 " mity ; for by fuffcring vice to poflefs the reward of virtue, we do a double “ injury to fociety, by encouraging the former, and taking away the chief in- “ centivc to the latter. Nay, though it is, I believe, impoffible to give vice “ a true relifh of honour and glory, or though we give it riches and power, to “ give it the enjoyment of them ; yet it contaminates the food it cannot tafle, “ and fullies the robe, which neither fits nor becomes it, till virtue dil'dains “ them both.” Thus hath our author developed the defign/ with which he wrote the hifiory of Jonathan Wild ; a noble purpofe furely, and of the highefl importance tofocietv. A fatire like this, which at once ftrips off the fpurious ornaments of hypocrify, and (hews the genuine beauty of the moral character, will be always worthy of the attention ol the reader, who delires to rife wifer or better from the book he perufes ; not to mention that this performance hath in many places fuch fea- fonings of humour, that it cannot fail to be a very high entertainment to all, who have a tafte for exhibitions of the abiurd and ridiculous in human life. But though the merit of the Life of Jonathan Wild be very confiderable, yet it mull be allowed to be very fhort of that higher order of compofition which our au- thor attained in his other pieces of invention. Hitherto he feems but prelud- ing, as it were, to fome great work, in which all the component parts of his genius were to be feen in their full and vigorous exertion ; in which his imagi- nation was to flrike us by the mofl lively and juft colouring, his wit to enliven by the happieft allufions, his invention to enrich with the greateft variety of character and incident, and his judgment to charm not only by the propriety and grace of particular parts, but by the order, harmony, and congruity of the whole : to this high excellence he made ftrong approaches in the Jofeph Andrews ; and in the Tom Jones he has fairly bore away the palm. In the progrefs of Henry Fielding’s talents there feem to have been three re- markable periods; one, when his genius broke forth at once with an effulgence lupeiior to all the rays of light it had before emitted, like the fun in his morn- ing glory, without the ardor and the blaze which afterwards attend him ; the fecond, when it was difplayed with colledled force, and a fullnefs of perfedlion, like the fun in meridian majefly, with all his higheil warmth and fplendor • and the third, when the fame genius, grown more cool and temperate, ftill con- tinued to cheer and enliven, but fhewed at the fame time thgit it was tendin'* to its decline, like the fame fun, abating from his ardor, but fill femblage, without a rich invention, a fine imagination, an enlightened judg- ment, and a lively wit, we may fairly here decide his character, and pronounce him the English Cervantes. It may be added, that in many parts of the Tom Jones we find our author poffefled the fofter graces of charader-painting, and of defeription ; many fixa- tions and fentiments are touched with a delicate hand, and throughout the work he feems to feel as much delight in deferibing the amiable part of human nature, as in his early days he had in exaggerating the ftrong and harfh features of turpitude and deformity. This circumflance breathes an air of philanthropy through his work, and renders it an image of truth , as the Roman orator calls a comedy. And hence it arofe, from this truth oj character which prevails in Tom Jones, in conjundion with the other qualities of the writer, above fet forth, that the fuffrage of the moft learned critic * of this nation was given to our author, when he fays, Monf. de Marivaux, in France, and Mr. Fielding in “ England ftand the foremofl: among thofe, who have given a faithful and ** chaffe copy of life and manners , and by enriching their romance with, the bed t( part of the comic art, may be faid to have brought it to perfedion. Such a favourable decifion from fo able a judge, will do honour to Mr. Fielding with pofterity ; and the excellent genius of the perfon, with whom he has paralleled him, will refled the trued praife on the author, who was capable of being his illuflrious rival. Marivaux poffefled rare and fine talents; he was an attentive obferver of man- kind, and the tranferipts he made from thence are the image oj truth. At his reception into the French Academy, he was told in an elegant fpeech, made by the Archbifhop of Sens, that the celebrated La Bruyere feemed to be revived in him, and to retrace with his pencil thofe admirable portraits of men and manners, * Dr. Warburton. which Of HENRY FIELDING, Efq; 43. which formerly unmalked fo many characters, and expofed their vanity and af- fectation. Marivaux feems never fo happy as when he is reprobating the falfe pretences of affumed characters : the diffimulation of friends, the policy of the ambitious, the littlenefs and arrogance of the great, the infolenceof wealth, the arts of the courtezan, the impertinence of foppery, the refined foibles of the fair fex, the diffipation of youth, the gravity of falfe-importance, the fubtleties ofhypocrify and exterior religion, together with all the delicacies of real ho- nour, and the fentiments of true virtue, are delineated by him in a lively and link- ing manner. He was not contented merely to copy their appearances ; he went ftill deeper, and fearched for all the internal movements of their paffions, with a curiofity that is always penetrating, but fometimes appears over-folicitous, and, as the critic exprelfes it, ultra perfeftum trahi. It is not intended by this to infinuate that he exceeds the bounds of truth j but occafionally he feems to refine, till the traces grow minute and almoft imperceptible. He is a painter, who labours his portraits with a careful and a fcrupulous hand ; he attaches himfelf to them with affeCtion ; knows not when to give over, nefeivit quod bene cejjit , relinquere, but continues touching and retouching, till his traits become fo delicate, that they at length are without efficacy, and the attention of the con- noifl'eur is tired, before the diligence of the artift is wearied. But this refine- ment of Marivaux is apologized for by the remark of the ethic poet, who ob- ferves that this kind of enquiry is Like following life thro’ infedts we diftedt ; We lofe it in the moment we deteCl. If therefore he fometimes feems over-curious, it is the nature of his fubjedt that allures him, and, in general, he greatly recompenfes us for the unwillingnefs he ffiews to quit his work, by the valuable illuftrations he gives it, and the delicacy with which he marks all the finer features of the mind. His didtion, it muft not be diflembled, is fometimes, but not often, far-fetched and ftrained ; and it was even objedled to him in the fpeech, already mentioned of the Archbifnop of Sens, that his choice of words was not always pure and legitimate. Each phrafe, and often each word is a fentence ; but he was apt to be hazardous and daring in his metaphors, which was obferved to him, left his example and the connivance of the Academy, which fits in a kind of legiflative capacity upon works of tafte, fhould occafion a vicious imitation of the particulars in which he was deemed defedtive. This criticifm Marivaux has fomewhere attempted to anfwer, by obferving that he always writes more like a man than an author, and endeavours to convey his ideas to his readers in the fame light they ftruck his own imagination, which had great fecundity, warmth, and vivacity. The Payfan Parvenu feems to be the Jofeph Andrews of this author, and the Mari- anne his higher work, or his Pom Jones. They are both, in a very exquifite degree, amufing and inftru&ive. They are not written, indeed, upon any of the laws of compofition promulged by Arijlotle , and expounded by his fol- e 2 lowers : 44 An E S S A Y on the LIFE and GENIUS lowers: his romances begin regularly with the birth and parentage of the prin- cipal perfon, and proceed in a narrative of events, including indeed great va- riety, and artfully raifing and fufpending our expectation : they are rather to he called JiBitious biography , than a comic fable, confining of a beginning , a middle, and end, where one principal aCtion is offered to the imagination, in its pro- cefs is involved in difficulties, and rifes gradually into tumult and perplexity, till, in a manner unexpected, it works itfelf clear, and comes, by natural but unforefeen incidents, to a termination. In this laft mentioned particular. Fielding boafts a manifeft fuperiority over Marivaux. Uniformity amidft variety is juftly allowed in all works of inven- tion to be the prime fource of beauty, and it is the peculiar excellence of Tom Jones. The author, for the mofi part, is more readily fatisfied in his drawings of character than the French writer ; the ftrong fpecific qualities of his perfon - ages he fets forth with a few mafterly ftrokes, but the nicer and more fubtle workings of the mind he is not fo anxious to inveftigate ; when the paffions are agitated, he can give us their conflicts, and their various tranlitions, but he does not always point out the fecret caufe that fets them in motion, or in the poet’s language, “ the fmall pebble that ftirs the peaceful lake.” Fielding was more attached to the manners than to the heart : in deferiptions of the former he is admirable ; in unfolding the latter he is not equal to Marivaux. In the management of his ftory, he piques and awakens curiolity more ftrongly than his rival of France ; when he interefts and excites our affeCtions, he fometimes ope- rates more by the force of fituation, than by the tender pathetic of fentiment, for which the author of Marianne is remarkable; not that it muft be imagined that Fielding wanted thefe qualities ; we have already faid the reverfe of him ; but in thefe particulars Marivaux has the preference. In point of ftile, he is more unexceptionable than Marivaux , the critics never having objected to him that his figures are forced or unnatural ; and in humour the praife of pre-emi- nence is entirely his. Marivaux was determined to have an air of originality, and therefore difdained to form himfelf upon any eminent model of preceding writers ; Fielding confidered the rules of compofition as delivered by the great philofophic critic, and finding that Homer had written a work, intitled Mar- git es, which bore the fame relation to comedy, that the Iliad or OdyJJey does to tragedy, he meditated a plan * conformable to the principles of a well-arranged fable. Were the Margites ftill extant, it would perhaps be found to have the fame proportion to this work of our author, as the fublime epic has to the Tclemaque of Fenelon. This W3S a noble vehicle for humorous defeription ; and to en- fure his fuccefs in it, with great judgment, he fixed his eye upon the fide and manner of Cervantes, as Virgil had before done in refpect to Homer. To this excellent model, he added all the advantages he could deduce from Scarron and Swift ; few or no fprinklings of Rablais being to be found in him. His own ftrong dilcernment of the foibles of mankind, and his 'quick fenfe of the ridi- * Fide the Preface to Jofeoh Andrews. culous Of HENRY FIELDING, Efq ; 45 culous being thus improved, by a careful attention to the works of the gjeat matters of their art, it is no v/onder that he has been able to raife himfelf to the top of the comic character, to be admired by readers with the moft lively fen- fations of mirth, and by novel-writers with a dejpair that he fiould ever be emu- lated with J'uccefs. * Thus we have traced our author in his progrefs to the time when the vigour of his mind was in its full growth of perfection ; from this period it funk, but by flow degrees, into a decline : Amelia , which fucceeded Tom Jones in about four years, has indeed the marks of genius, but of a genius beginning to fall into its decay. The author’s invention in this performance does not appear to have loft its fertility ; his judgment too feems as ftrong as ever j but the warmth of imagination is abated ; and in his landfkips or his fcenes of life, Mr. Field- ing is no longer the colourift he was before. The perforrages of the piece delight too much in narrative, and their characters have not thofe touches of Angularity, thofe fpeciflc differences, which are fo beautifully marked in our author’s former works : of courfe the humour, which conflfts in happy deline- ations of the caprices and predominant foibles of the human mind, lofes here its high flavour and relifh. And yet Amelia holds the fame proportion to* Tom Jones , that the OdyJJ'ey of Homer bears, in the eftimation of Longinus , to the Iliad. A fine vein of morality runs through the whole ; many of the Atuations are affeCting and tender ; the fentiments are delicate ; and upon the whole, it is the Odyjjey , the moral and pathetic work of Henry Fielding *. While he was planning and executing this piece, it fhould be remembered, that he was diftraCted by that multiplicity of avocations, which furround a pub- lic magiftrate ; and his conftitution, now greatly impaired and enfeebled, was labouring under attacks of the gout, which were, of courfe, leverer than ever. However, the activity of his mind was not to be fubdued. One literary purfuit was no fooner over, than frefh game arofe. A periodical paper, under the title of The Covent Garden Journal , by Sir Alexander Drawcanfir , Knight, and CenJ'or General of Great Britain , was immediately fet on foot. It was publiftied twice in every week, viz. on Tuejday and Saturday, and conduced fo much to the en- tertainment of the public, for a twelvemonth together, that it was at length felt with a general regret that the author’s health did not enable him to perflft in the undertaking any longer. There are, in that collection, many effays of fuch good fenfe and Ane humour, that they would have been admired in the lucubrations of the Tatler or the Spectator ; and the reader will And them carefully feleCted and preferved in this edition. Soon after this work was dropt, our author’s • whole frame of body was fo entirely fhattered by continual inroads of complicate * It is proper the reader Jkould he informed that Amelia, in this ed tion, is pr'ritel from a coty c,r retted ly the aethers own hand. The exceptional le pajfages , which inadvertency had thrown out , are here re- trench, d 3 end tie work , upon the whole, will be found nearer perfection than it was ir, its original Jlalt. ed 46 An ESSAY on the LIFE and GENIUS ed diforders, and the inceflant fatigue of bufinefs in his office, that, by the ad- vice of his phyficians, he was obliged to fet out for Liffion, to try if there was any reftorative quality in the more genial air of that climate. Even in this di- ftrefsful condition, his imagination ftill continued making its ftrongeft efforts to difplay itfelf; and the laft gleams of his wit and humour faintly fparkled in the account he left behind him of his voyage to that place. In this his laft fkctch he puts us in mind of aperfon, under fentence of death, jetting on the fcaffold ; for his ftrength was now quite exhautted ; and in about two months after his arrival at Lifbon, he yielded his laft breath, in the year 1754, and in the forty- eighth year of his age. He left behind him (for he married a fecond time) a wife, and four children, three of which are ftill living, and are now training up in a handfome courfe of education under the care of their uncle, with the aid of a very generous dona- tion, given annually by Ralph Allen, Efq; for that purpofe. An inftance of humanity, which the reader did not want to learn of him, vvhofe life is a con- ftant effufion of munificence ; but for the fake of the writer, whofe works have afforded fuch exquifite entertainment, he will be glad to know that the gene- rous patron of the father is now the tender guardian of his orphans. Thus was clofed a courfe of difappointment, diftrefs, vexation, infirmity, and ftudy : for with each of thefe his life was varioufly checquered, and, perhaps, in ftronger proportions than has been the lot of many. Shall we now, after the manner of the Egyptian ritual, frame a public accufation againft his memory, or fhall we rather fuffer him to pafs by quietly, and reft in peace among the departed ? The former method would gratify malevolence, more efpecially if we ftated fadts with aggravation, or difcoloured them a little by mifreprefen- tation, and then, from premifes injurioufty eftablifhed, drew, with a pretended reluctance, a few conclufions to the utter deftruCtion of his moral character. But the candid reader will recolleCt that the charge of venality never ceafes to be exhibited againft abilities in diftrefs, which was our author’s lot in the firft part of his life, and that the firft magiftrate for Weftminfter is ever liable to impu- tations ; for an anfwer to which we refer to a pafiage in the Voyage to Lijbon , and a note annexed to it. Page 463, Vol. IV. “ A predecefi'or of mine ufed to “ boaft that he made one thoufand pounds a year in his office : but how he “ did this (if indeed he did it) is to me a fecret. His clerk, now mine, told me I had more bufinefs than he had ever known there I am fure I had as “ much as any man could do. The truth is, the fees are fo very low, when any “ are due, and fo much is done for nothing, that if a fingle juftice of peace had “ bufinefs enough to employ twenty clerks ; neither he nor they would get much “ ty their labour. The public will not therefore, I hope, think I betray a l'e- “ cret when I inform them, that I received from the government a yearly pen- “ fion out of the public fervice-money ; which I believe, indeed, would have “ been larger, had my great patron been convinced of an error, which I have 3 “ heard Of HENRY FIELDING, Efq; 47 “ heard him utter more than once, That he could not indeed lay, that the a<5t- ** ing as a principal juftice of peace in Wefttninfter was on all accounts very “ delirable, but that all the world knew it was a very lucrative office. Now to “ have ffiewn him plainly, that a man mull be a rogue to make a very little this “ way, and that he could not make much by being as great a rogue as he could “ be, would have required more confidence than, I believe, he had in me, and “ more of his converfation than he chofe to allow me ; I therefore refigned the “ office, and the farther execution of my plan to my brother, who had long “ been my affiftant. And now, left the cafe between me and the reader fhould “ be the fame in both inftances as it was between me and the great man, I will “ not add another word on the fubjedh” The indignation with which he throws the dishonour from him will plead in his behalf with every candid mind ; more particularly when it is conlidered as the declaration cf a dying man. It will therefore be the more humane and generous office, to fet down to the account of Hander and defamation a great part of that abufe which was difeharged againft him by his enemies, in his life-time ; deducing, however, from the whole this ufeful leffon, That quick and warm paffions fhould be early controuled, and that diffipation and extravagant pleafures are the moft dangerous palliatives that can be found for dilappointments and vexations in the firft ftages of life. We have feen how Mr. Fielding very foon fquandered away his fmall patrimony, which, with ceconomy, might have procured him inde_ endence ; we have feen how he ruined, into the bargain, a conftitution, which, in its original texture, feemed formed to laft much longer. When illnefs and indigence were once let in upon him, he no longer remained the mafter of his own adtions ; and that nice delicacy of condudt, which alone conftitutes and preferves a character, was occafion- ally obliged to give way. When he was not under the immediate urgency of want, they, who were intimate with him, are ready to aver that he had a mind greatly fuperior to any thing mean or little ; when his finances were exhaufted, he was not the moft -elegant in his choice of the means to redrefs himfelf, and he would inftantly exhibit a farce or a puppet-fhew in the Haymarket theatre, which was wholly inconfiftent with the profeffion he had embarked in. But his intimates can witnefs how much his pride buffered, when he was forced into meafures of this kind; no man having a jufter fenfe of propriety, or more honourable ideas of the employment of an author and a fcholar. Henry Fielding was in ftature rather rifing above fix feet; his frame of body large, and remarkably robuft, till the gout had broke the vigour of his confti- tution. Confidering the efteem he was in with all the artifts, it is fomewhat extraordinary that no portrait of him had ever been made. • He had often pro- mifed to fit to his friend Hogarth, for whofe good qualities and excellent genius he always entertained fo high an efteem, that he has left us in his writings many beautiful memorials of his affedfion : unluckily, however, it fo fell out that no pidture of him was ever drawn ; but yet, as if it w^as intended that fome traces of his countenance fhould be perpetuated, and that too by the very artift whom 48 An ESSAY on the LIFE and GENIUS whom our author preferred to all others, after Mr. Ilogarth had long laboured to try if he could bring out any likenefs of him from images exifting in his own fancy ; and juft as he was defpairing of fuccefs, for want of fome rule to go by in the dimenfions and outlines of the face, fortune threw the grand defidcratum in the way. A lady, with a pair of feiflars, had cut a profile, which gave the diftances and proportions of his face fufficiently to reftore his loft ideas of him. Glad of an opportunity of paying his laft tribute to the memory of an author whom he admired, Mr. Hogarth caught at this outline with pleafure, and worked with all the attachment of friendftiip till he finifhed that excellent draw- ing, which ftands at the head of this work, and recalls to all, who have feen the original, a correfponding image of the man. Had the writer of this Eftay the happy power of delineation which diftin- guifties the artift juft mentioned, he would here attempt a portrait of Mr. Fielding’s mind : of the principal features, fuch as they appear to him, he will at leaft endeavour to give a {ketch, however imperfeCt. His paftions, as the poet exprefles it, were tremblingly alive all o'er : whatever he defired, he defired ardently; he was alike impatient of difappointment, or ill-ufage, and the fame quicknefs of fenfibility rendered him elate in profperity, and overflowing with gratitude at every inftance of friendftiip or generality ; lleady in his private at- tachments, his afteCtion was warm, lincere, and vehement; in his refentments he was manly, but temperate, feldom breaking out in his writings into gratifi- cations of ill-humour, or perfonal fatire. It is to the honour of thofe whom he loved, that he had too much penetration to be deceived in their characters ; and it is to the advantage of his enemies, that he was above paflionate attacks upon them. Open, unbounded, and focial in his temper, he knew no love of money; but inclining to excefs even in his very virtues, he puftied his contempt of avarice into the oppofite extreme of imprudence and prodigality. When young in life he had a moderate eftate, he foon fuffered hofpitality to devour it ; and when in the latter end of his days he had an income of four or five hundred a-year, he knew no ufe of money, but to keep his table open to thofe who had been his friends when young, .and had impaired their own fortunes. Though difpofed to gallantry by his ftrong animal fpirits, and the vivacity of his paflions, he was remarkable for tendernefs and conftancy to his wife, and the ftrongeft afteCtion for his children. Of ficknefs and poverty he was Angularly patient, and under the preflure of thofe evils, he could quietly read Cicero de Confolatione ; but if either of them threatened his wife, he was impetuous for her relief: and thus often from his virtues arofe his imperfections. A fenfe of honour he had as lively and delicate as moft men, but fometimes his paflions were too turbulent for it, or rather his neceffities were too prefling ; in all cafes where delicacy was departed from, his friends know how his own feelings reprimanded him. The interefts of virtue and religion he never betrayed ; the former is amiably enforced in his works ; and, for the defence of the latter, he had projected a la- borious anfwer to the pofthumous philofophy of Bolingbrook ; and the prepara- tion Of HENRY FIELDING, Efqj 49 tion he had made for it of long extracts and arguments from the fathers and the mod: eminent writers of controverfy, is dill extant in the hands of his brother. Sir John Fielding. In fhort, our author was unhappy, but not vicious in his nature; in his underdanding lively, yet folid ; rich in invention, yet a lover of real fcience ; an obferver of mankind, yet a fcholar of enlarged reading ; a fpirited enemy, yet an indefatigable friend ; a fatirid of vice and evil man- ners, yet a lover of mankind ; an ufeful citizen, a polifhed and indrudtive wit ; and a magidrate zealous for the order and welfare of the community which he ferved. Such was the man, and fuch the author, whofe works we now offer to the public. Of this undertaking we fhall only fay, that the proprietor was above taking advantage of the author’s edablifhed reputation to enhance the price, but dudicd principally to fend it into the world at as cheap a purchafe as poffible ; and the editor, from the prodigious number of materials before him, was care- ful, after communicating with the abled and bed of the author’s friends, to re- print every thing worthy of a place' in this edition of his Works ; which is in- tended, and, no doubt, will prove, a lasting Monument of the Genius of Henry Fielding.. T.ineoln’s Inn, March 35, 1761, Arthur Murphy.. ( VoL. I. CONTE N T S