The Covent-Garden Journal/Number 7

by Henry Fielding

SATURDAY, JANUARY 25, 1752. Numb. 7.

Quis non invenit turbâ quod amaret in illâ.

Ovid de Arte Amand.

Who is there so stupid as not to find a fa-

vorite Letter in the following Collection?

To Sir ALEXANDER HUMBUG, Censurer of Grate Britan.

YOU, Sir Sawnny. I must not Kritichize, must I -- D--n me but I will tho in Spit of you and all your hadearents. Who the Divil are you, Mun, that you ant to be Kritichized upon. But I can til you I have Kritichized upon you, and so have seferal of my Frinds; and we d--ned all your Papers tother Day in a Coffi House, and cursed Stuff they are, there, my boy, theres a Stuff your puzling Pat never thot off. I wish wee had you upon the Stage, my Dear, wed showe you a Trik worth two othat, I warrant you; but Garrak knows better than to acte such Stuff as you can write. You put me into Grubstreet -- You kiss -- Da-n me I have 2000 l. a Year, that is, I shall have when I com from my Travels two Years hence, and shall bee of Age, but perhaps I shant travl at all but stay at home and d--n such Felows as you.

TIM. BUCK.

• * * * *

To the CENSOR.

SIR,

IN your Remarks on the many Encomiums made on Brides in the public News-Papers, I suppose you intend to ridicule the Vanity of our Sex in publishing their own Qualifications to the World; but you will excuse me, if I have a better Opinion of the Female Part of the Species than to imagine they are ever privy to such pompous Exhibitions of themselves, and am well convinced that all these Compliments are inserted by the Bridegroom only; and they are, sometimes, I fear, the last Compliments, which he pays his Mistress.

This Matter, I own, appears to me in a very different Light from that in which it is seen by others. It raises my Indignation to read Beauty, Sense, Merit, and all Qualifications necessary to render the married State happy, at the End of every married Woman's Name, while a profound Silence is always preserved with regard to the Merits of the Husband. Good Mr. Censor, are we to understand by this that all Men are possessed of those Qualifications which can render the married State happy, or that there are really no Qualifications necessary on the Part of the Man; or lastly, that his Happiness alone, and not that of the Woman, is to be considered?

None of these I apprehend to be true; I submit, therefore, to your Judgment, whether it would not be decent for the future, either to pass over the great Endowments of the Woman, or to insert likewise those of the Man. For Instance, Yesterday A B, Esq; a Gentlemen of Sense, Honour, and Good-nature, of a comely Person, and a suitable Age, was married to Miss C D, a Lady of great Beauty, Etc. as usual: For every one of these Articles on the Man's Side are absolutely necessary to the Happiness of the Woman.

This, Sir, would be fair on both Sides; but as the matter now stands, may we not justly apprehend that many a Lady possessed of every Virtue and good Quality is thrown away either upon a Rake or a Fool, a Sot or a Clown, a Coxcomb or a R-scal; or, perhaps, on a Husband who possesses all those amiable Qualities together?

To conclude with a plain Truth, I sincerely believe the Qualifications necessary to married Happiness are much more common in Women than in Men, and may, therefore, better be understood, in general, to belong to our Sex than to yours. I am,

SIR,

Grosvenor-

Your humble Servant,

Street.

DOROTHY SINGLE.

Saturday.

• * * * *

To the CENSOR.

SIR,

LOOKING lately into that Volume of the Spectators, in which is inserted the humbled Petition of WHO and WHICH, I could not help reflecting on many other discarded Words which might claim an equal Right of being restored to Use, or rather of being suffered, sometimes at least, to enter into the human Mind.

The Words, I at present mean are WHY and WHEREFORE; which, if permitted to present themselves before Mankind, how many vain Pursuits would they stop in the very Beginning; and how many Scenes of Ruin and Destruction would a due Attention to them be able to prevent.

Give me Leave, therefore, to suppose these two Words, setting forth their unhappy Fate, and begging for better Quarter, in the following Complaint, addressed to you, Sir, as Censor of Great Britain. I am,

SIR,

Your humble Servant,

SOPHIA.

The humble Complaint of WHY and WHEREFORE.

Sheweth,

That your Petitioners knowing of what great Use and Service we might be to all Societies, as well as to every Individual, and having a benevolent Intention of doing all the Good in our Power, are heartily grieved we so very seldom can find a Hearing.

If we can present ourselves before a Fox-hunter in his Chace, he swiftly rides over us.

If we attempt to engage one Moment's attention from the Hero marching at the Head of his Army to destroy his Fellow-Creatures, instead of listening to us, he immediately orders his Drums, and Trumpets, to strike up; in the Noise of which 'tis impossible our Voice should be distinguished.

In our Address to the Miser, the Chinking of his Gold sounds as loudly in his Ears, and as effectually prevents our being heard, as the more noisy Instruments of War made use of by the Soldier.

When the ambitious Man is sitting alone, and revolving in his Mind all his various Schemes for raising himself to the highest Pinnacle of Greatness, we know that he is too much wrapped up in his own Thoughts to give Attention to any outward Sound. We therefore secretly endeavour to creep into his Breast; and though we, by this Means, gain Admittance, yet is it generally our Fate to be there smothered in a confused Croud of Images, such as Honours, Titles, -- Command, --- Adoration, --- Fame, &c. &c. &c. But if, by Accident, this great Man falls from all his Glory, and comes into Disgrace, the large Company which before hid, and almost stifled, us, instantly vanish, and he then wonders he had not before seen us, and harkened to our Voice.

The Lover, whenever we apply to him, puffs us away with his Sighs; the Sot drowns our Voice with a merry Catch; nor could we ever obtain a satisfactory Answer from any Author, unless it was from some poor Wretch who was writing for a Dinner.

If we durst, Great Sir, we should put a Question to your Worship, on your attacking a Set of Wretches so much beneath your Notice as the present Race of Scribblers; but we do not expect you should do us so great an Honour, as ever to answer,

Your very good Friends,

WHY and WHEREFORE.

• * * * *

George's Coffee House, Jan. 14, 1752.

SIR,

BY a short Conversation which I had the other Day with an ingenious Friend of your's, at his Office in the Strand, he told me he could supply me with every Kind of useful Person, and give me Information in every Sort of Business -- A Proposal which I own, had greatly the Air of Extravagance; but Experience soon taught me it was true: And though, as Censor, you may be highly serviceable to Society, I think your Friend is no less usefully employed than yourself, being engaged in a Design, which the more I examine, the more I approve.

For your Part, Sir Alexander, I look upon your Office, as Censor, as a Universal Register Office too, but of a different Kind; for while your Friend is placing every Man in the Sphere for which his Capacity and Education qualify him, you instruct the Wise, and furnish Entertainment for those of true Taste. In your Office are registered just Sentiments on every Occasion: you regulate the Minds of one Part of the World, whilst he employs the Bodies of the other. You give Information in Points of Knowledge; whilst he deals out Intelligence to Men of Business. To your Register Office, Mr. Censor, I now apply for the Meaning of a Word much used in the present Age, which, I own, conveys no distinct Idea to my Mind, nor do I believe it does to the Minds of those who make use of it. In your last Paper, in which you so ingeniously handled the Abuse of Words, you have, to my great Disappointment, omitted the Word Town, of which I should be glad to know the Meaning. For being in an eminent Coffee House, some few Days ago, a grave Gentleman, with much Dignity of Wig and Person, who seemed to be the Mouth and Oracle of the Assembly, made frequent Use of the Word Town, in his Harangues, which were not a little oratorical; and, speaking of some theatrical Performances he said, the Town would not bear it; the Town did not like it; the town was offended; the Town damn'd it; the Town was the best Judge; the Town was out of Humour. In a Word, the Town did every Thing; the Town knew every Thing; and to succeed in any Thing, a Man must please the Town.

Now, Sir, what I want to know of you, is, who, or what, is meant by this Word Town; What Sort of Animal it is. And what one is to understand by it. Your Information, in this Particular, shall be gratefully acknowledged, by

Your humble Servant, and Admirer,

P.W.

P.S. Quære, Whether the Town does not signify the idle, silly, and illiterate Part of Society?

• * * * *

Worshipful Sir,

SINCE the Publication of your Paper, such an immense Quantity of Filth and Nastiness has been brought from Grub-Street and Bilingsgate, and emptied in Covent-Garden, that unless your Worship, out of your great Wisdom, will contrive some Method of raising a new Tax for the Payment of the Scavenger, it will be impossible for me, had I treble the Number of Carts I have, to keep that Place tolerably decent.

I am, Sir,

Your humble Servant,

W. T. Master Scavenger.

P. S. Pray let Grub-Street alone, for the more you stir the more it will stink. M.

• * * * *

Proceedings at the Court of Censorial Enquiry, Etc.

(Amelia was set to the Bar.)

COUNSELLOR TOWN. May it please you, Mr. Censor, I am of Council in this Case, on the side of the Prosecution. The Book at the Bar is indicted upon the Statute of Dulness, a very antient Law, and too well known to need much expatiating upon. But it may be necessary to observe, that that that is Dulness in one Age, is not so in another, and what says that antient Sage, and Lawgiver, Horace;

Ætatis cujusque notandi sunt tibi mores.

Every Writer is to observe the Manners of the Age.

I know the Word ætatis is, in this Place, by some Lawyers, understood in another Sense; but what I content for, is, that it may very well be understood in that Sense that I have here given to it: and, accordingly, the same Horace lays it down as a Rule,

Et prodesse volunt, et delectare, poetæ.

Poets desire to get Money, and to please their Readers.

For so I read the Law, and so I render it. A very good Law it is, and very wholesome to the Writers themselves.

Now the Humour, or Manners, of this Age are to laugh at every Thing, and the only Way to please them is to make them laugh; nor hath the Prisoner any Excuse, since it was so very easy to have done this in the present Case; what, indeed, more was necessary, than to have turned the Ridicule the other Way, and, in the Characters of Dr. Harrison, and Amelia herself, to have made a Jest of Religion, and the Clergy, of Virtue, and Innocence?

Here the Council was hastily stopt by the Censor, and desired to proceed to his Proofs.

TOWN. We shall prove then, to you, Sir, that the Book now at the Bar, is very sad Stuff; that Amelia herself is a low Character, a Fool, and a Milksop; that she is very apt to faint, and apt to drink Water, to prevent it. That she once taps a Bottle of Wine, and drinks two Glasses. That she shews too much Kindness for her Children, and is too apt to forgive the Faults of her Husband. That she exerts no Manner of Spirit, unless, perhaps, in supporting Afflictions. That her concealing the Knowledge of her Husband's Amour, when she knew he had discontinued it, was low and poor. That her not abusing him, for having lost his Money at Play, when she saw his Heart was already almost broke by it, was contemptible Meanness. That she dresses her Husband's Supper; dresses her Children; and submits to the Thoughts of every servile Office. That she once mentions THE DEVIL, and as often swears BY HER SOUL. Lastly, that she is a Beauty WITHOUT A NOSE, I say again, WITHOUT A NOSE. All this we shall prove by many Witnesses.

We shall likewise prove that Dr. Harrison is a very low, dull, unnatural, Character, and that his arresting Booth, only because he had all imaginable Reason to think he was a Villain, is unpardonable.

That Colonel Bath is a foolish Character, very low, and ill-drawn.

That the Scene of the Gaol is low and unmeaning, and brought in by Head and Shoulders, without any Reason, or Design.

That the Abbé is supposed to wear a Sword; in short, not to descend to too many Particulars, which you will hear from the Mouths of the Witnesses, that the whole Book is a Heap of sad Stuff, Dulness, and Nonsense; that it contains no Wit, Humour, Knowledge of human Nature, or of the World; indeed, that the Fable, moral Character, Manners, Sentiments, and Diction, are all alike bad and contemptible.

All these Matters, Sir, we doubt not to prove to your Satisfaction, and then we doubt not but that you will do exemplary Justice to such intolerable sad Stuff, and, will pass such a Sentence as may be a dreadful Example to all future Books, how they dare stand up in Opposition to the Humour of the Age.

A great Noise was now heard in the Court, and much female Vociferation; when the Censor was informed, that it was a married Lady, one of the Witnesses against Amelia, who was scolding at her Husband for not making her Way through the Crowd.

Mr. TOWN then moved, that, as there were several Persons of great Fashion, who were to be Witnesses in this Cause, Room might be made for them by the Officers, which was ordered accordingly.

C. TOWN. Call Lady Dilly Dally. -- (She appeared) Mr. Censor, we call this young Lady to the Character of Amelia, and she will give you an Account of all the low Behaviour I have opened. --Lady Dilly, your Ladyship knows the Prisoner at the Bar?

L. DILLY. I cannot say I ever saw the Creature before. (At which there was a great Laugh)

C. TOWN. I thought your Ladyship said that Amelia was sad Stuff from Beginning to End.

L. DILLY. I believe I might say so. --Eh! I don't always remember what I say; but if I did say so, I was told it. -- Oh! yes, now I remember very well, I did say so, and Dr. Dosewell, my Physician, told me so. -- The Doctor said, in a great deal of Company, that the Book, I forget the Name of it, was a sad stupid Book, and that the Author had not a Bit of Wit, or Learning, or Sense, or any Thing else.

COURT. Mr. Town, you know this is only Hearsay, and not Evidence.--

C. TOWN. I do not contend for it. We shall call the Doctor himself by and by. -- We will give your Ladyship no further Trouble.

L. DILLY. --I am heartily glad of it.-- Mr. Censor, if you are the Judge, I beg, as you have brought me into this odious Place, you will see me safe out again.

Orders were then given to clear away the Crowd, which was very great, and Lady Dilly got safe to her Chair.

The Residue of this Trial will be in our next.