Page:The English humourists of the eighteenth century. A series of lectures, delivered in England, Scotland, and the United States of America (IA englishhumourist00thacrich).pdf/266

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ENGLISH HUMOURISTS.

pardon. He was living up to the last days of his life, and his spirit never gave in. His vital power must have been immensely strong. Lady Mary Wortley Montagu[1] prettily characterises Fielding and this capacity for happiness which he possessed, in a little notice of his death, when she compares him


    After recounting the circumstances of the apology, he characteristically adds:—
    "And here, that I may not be thought the sly trumpeter of my own praises, I do utterly disclaim all praise on the occasion. Neither did the greatness of my mind dictate, nor the force of my Christianity exact this forgiveness. To speak truth, I forgave him from a motive which make men much more forgiving, if they were much wiser than they are; because it was convenient for me so to do."

  1. Lady Mary was his second cousin—their respective grandfathers being sons of George Fielding, Earl of Desmond, son of William, Earl of Denbigh.
    In a letter dated just a week before his death, she says,—
    "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. . . . 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. . . .Since I was born no original has appeared excepting Congreve, and Fielding, who would, I believe, have approached nearer to his excellencies, if not forced by his necessities to publish without correction, and throw many productions into the world he would have thrown into the five, if meat could have been got without money, or money without scribbling. . . . I am sorry not to see any more of Peregrine Pickle's performances; I wish you would tell me his name."—Letters and Works (Lord Wharncliffe's Ed.) vol iii. p. 93, 94.