Part 19 (1/2)
”I think _Joseph Andrews_ better than his _Foundling._[13] I believe I was the more struck with it, having at present a f.a.n.n.y in my own house, not only by the name, which happens to be the same, but the extraordinary beauty, joined with an understanding yet more extraordinary at her age, which is but few months past sixteen: she is in the post of my chambermaid. I fancy you will tax my discretion for taking a servant thus qualified; but my woman, who is also my housekeeper, was always teasing me with her having too much work, and complaining of ill-health, which determined me to take her a deputy; and when I was at Lovere, where I drank the waters, one of the most considerable merchants there pressed me to take this daughter of his: her mother has an uncommon good character, and the girl has had a better education than is usual for those of her rank; she writes a good hand, and has been brought up to keep accounts, which she does to great perfection; and had herself such a violent desire to serve me, that I was persuaded to take her: I do not yet repent it from any part of her behaviour. But there has been no peace in the family ever since she came into it; I might say the parish, all the women in it having declared open war with her, and the men endeavouring at treaties of a different sort: my own woman puts herself at the head of the first party, and her spleen is increased by having no reason for it, the young creature never stirring from my apartment, always at needle, and never complaining of anything.”
[Footnote 13: _The History of Tom Jones, A Foundling_.]
Later Lady Mary has more to say about Fielding's books:
”H. Fielding has given a true picture of himself and his first wife, in the characters of Mr. and Mrs. Booth, some compliments to his own figure excepted; and, I am persuaded, several of the incidents he mentions are real matters of fact. I wonder he does not perceive Tom Jones and Mr.
Booth are sorry scoundrels. All these sort of books have the same fault, which I cannot easily pardon, being very mischievous. They place a merit in extravagant pa.s.sions, and encourage young people to hope for impossible events, to draw them out of the misery they chose to plunge themselves into, expecting legacies from unknown relations, and generous benefactors to distressed virtue, as much out of nature as fairy treasures. Fielding has really a fund of true humour, and was to be pitied at his first entrance into the world, having no choice, as he said himself, but to be a hackney writer, or a hackney coachman. His genius deserved a better fate; but I cannot help blaming that continued indiscretion, to give it the softest name, that has run through his life, and I am afraid still remains. I guessed _Random_ to be his though without his name. I cannot think _Ferdinand Count Fathom_ wrote by the same hand, it is every way so much below it.”
Adventures of Roderick Random_ (1748) and _The Adventures of Ferdinand Count Fathom_ (1753) were published anonymously. Lady Mary was not the only one to attribute _Roderick Random_ to Fielding, and it was actually translated into French in his name.
When Lady Mary heard of Fielding's death, she expressed deep regret:
”I am sorry for H. Fielding's death, not only as I shall read no more of his writings, but I believe he lost more than others, as no man enjoyed life more than he did, though few had less reason to do so, the highest of his preferment being raking in the lowest sinks of vice and misery. I should think it a n.o.bler and less nauseous employment to be one of the staff-officers that conduct the nocturnal weddings. His happy const.i.tution (even when he had, with great pains, half demolished it) made him forget everything when he was before a venison pasty, or over a flask of champagne; and I am persuaded he has known more happy moments than any prince upon earth. His natural spirits gave him rapture with his cook-maid, and cheerfulness when he was fluxing in a garret. There was a great similitude between his character and that of Sir Richard Steele. He had the advantage both in learning and, in my opinion, genius: they both agreed in wanting money in spite of all their friends, and would have wanted it, if their hereditary lands had been as extensive as their imagination; yet each of them was so formed for happiness; it is a pity he was not immortal.”
Writing of imaginative prose literature generally, Lady Mary wrote:
”The general want of invention which reigns among our writers, inclines me to think it is not the natural growth of our island, which has not sun enough to warm the imagination. The press is loaded by the servile flock of imitators. Lord B. [Bolingbroke] would have quoted Horace in this place. Since I was born, no original has appeared excepting Congreve and Fielding, who would, I believe, have approached nearer to his excellences, if not forced by necessity to publish without correction, and throw many productions into the world he would have thrown into the fire if meat could have been got without money, or money without scribbling. The greatest virtue, justice, and the most distinguis.h.i.+ng prerogative of mankind, writing, when duly executed, do honour to human nature; but when degenerated into trades, are the most contemptible ways of getting bread. I am sorry not to see any more of Peregrine Pickle's performances: I wish you would tell me his name.”
It appears strange that Lady Mary should have been ignorant, when she wrote the above pa.s.sage in July or August, 1755, of the authors.h.i.+p of _Roderick Random_, for in January of that year she had evinced an interest in Smollett: ”I am sorry my friend Smollett loses his time in translations; he has certainly a talent for invention, though I think it flags a little in his last work. _Don Quixote_ is a difficult undertaking: I shall never desire to read any attempt to redress him.
Though I am a mere piddler in the Spanish language, I had rather take pains to understand him in the original than sleep over a stupid translation.”
_Peregrine Pickle_, however, Lady Mary had read shortly after its appearance in 1751:
”I began by your direction with _Peregrine Pickle_. I think Lady Vane's _Memoirs_[14] contain more truth and less malice than any I ever read in my life. When she speaks of her own being disinterested, I am apt to believe she really thinks herself so, as many highwaymen, after having no possibility of retrieving the character of honesty, please themselves with that of being generous, because, whatever they get on the road, they always spend at the next ale-house, and are still as beggarly as ever. Her history, rightly considered, would be more instructive to young women than any sermon I know. They may see there what mortifications and variety of misery are the unavoidable consequences of gallantries. I think there is no rational creature that would not prefer the life of the strictest Carmelite to the round of hurry and misfortune she has gone through. Her style is clear and concise, with some strokes of humour, which appear to me so much above her, I can't help being of opinion the whole has been modelled by the author of the book in which it is inserted, who is some subaltern admirer of hers. I may judge wrong, she being no acquaintance of mine, though she has married two of my relations. Her first wedding was attended with circ.u.mstances that made me think a visit not at all necessary, though I disobliged Lady Susan by neglecting it; and the second, which happened soon after, made her so near a neighbour, that I rather choose to stay the whole summer in town than partake of her b.a.l.l.s and parties of pleasure, to which I did not think it proper to introduce you; and had no other way of avoiding it, without incurring the censure of a most unnatural mother for denying you diversions that the pious Lady Ferrers permitted to her exemplary daughters. Mr. s.h.i.+rley has had uncommon fortune in making the conquest of two such extraordinary ladies, equal in their heroic contempt of shame, and eminent above their s.e.x, the one for beauty, and the other wealth, both which attract the pursuit of all mankind, and have been thrown into his arms with the same unlimited fondness. He appeared to me gentile [_sic_], well bred, well shaped and sensible; but the charms of his face and eyes, which Lady Vane describes with so much warmth, were, I confess, always invisible to me, and the artificial part of his character very glaring, which I think her story shows in a strong light.”
[Footnote 14: Frances Anne Hawes (1713-1788) married Lord William Douglas in 1731, and after his death, William, second Viscount Vane, in 1735. She was notorious for profligacy and extravagance of all kinds.
She was responsible for the scandalous _Memoirs of a Lady of Quality_ which she paid Smollett to insert in _Peregrine Pickle_.]
Of minor novelists Lady Mary had also something to say from time to time.
”Sally [Fielding] has mended her style in her last volume of _David Simple_, which conveys a useful moral, though she does not seem to have intended it: I mean, shows the ill consequences of not providing against casual losses, which happen to almost everybody. Mrs. Orgueil's character is well drawn, and is frequently to be met with. The _Art of Tormenting_, the _Female Quixote_[15] and _Sir C. Goodville_ are all sale work. I suppose they proceed from her pen, and heartily pity her, constrained by her circ.u.mstances to seek her bread by a method, I do not doubt, she despises. Tell me who is that accomplished countess she celebrates. I left no such person in London; nor can I imagine who is meant by the English Sappho mentioned in Betsy Thoughtless, whose adventures and those of Jenny Jessamy, gave me some amus.e.m.e.nt.”
[Footnote 15: By Charlotte Lennox.]
”I have read _The Cry_[16] and if I would write in the style to be admired by good Lord Orrery, I would tell you _The Cry_ made me ready to cry, and the _Art of Tormenting_ tormented me very much. I take them to be Sally Fielding's, and also the _Female Quixote_; the plan of that is pretty, but ill executed: on the contrary, the fable of _The Cry_ is the most absurd I ever saw, but the sentiments generally just; and I think, if well dressed, would make a better body of ethics than Bolingbroke's.
Her inventing new words, that are neither more harmonious or significant than those already in use, is intolerable.
[Footnote 16: By Sarah Fielding and Miss Collier.]
”The next book I laid my hand on was _The Parish Girl_ which interested me enough not to be able to quit it till it was read over, though the author has fallen into the common mistake of romance-writers; intending a virtuous character, and not knowing how to draw it; the first step of his heroine (leaving her patroness's house) being altogether absurd and ridiculous, justly ent.i.tling her to all the misfortunes she met with.