In 1746 he was made Knight of the Bath, and soon afterwards was appointed envoy to Dresden, where he displayed great and unexpected talents in negotiation.

This was the beginning of a regular diplomatic career, in which his old friend and schoolfellow, Henry Fox, procured him various important appointments, in which his success was by no means uniform. At length, a failure, in 1757, on a mission to St. Petersburgh, to detach the Empress from a coalition with Austria and France, completely broke his spirits. His health failed, and the powers of his mind were obviously affected. He determined to return to England. An accidental fall on shipboard aggravated the painful symptoms of cerebral disease under which he was suffering; and after a brief rally on his return, his powers, both bodily and mental, entirely failed, and he died on the 2nd of November, 1759, at the age of fifty years. (Chalmers's Biog. Dict. -Life, prefixed to edition of his Works, 1822.)

HENRY FIELDING.

AMONG the schoolfellows of the five Etonian statesmen whose lives we have just been contemplating, was one, whose career in life was far less brilliant, but whose fame is spread more widely than theirs, and is likely to endure as long. I mean our great novelist, Henry Fielding, whom Byron has truly termed "The prose Homer of human nature."

Henry Fielding was born at Sharpham Park, near Glastonbury, in Somersetshire, April 22nd, 1707. His father, Edmund Fielding, had served in the wars of Marlborough, and rose to the rank of Lieutenant-General. He was nearly related to several noble families. He was twice married, and had a large family by each marriage.

Henry Fielding received the earliest part of his education at home, under the Rev. Mr. Oliver, of whose capacity and character we may judge, from the fact that he was the original of Parson Trulliber, in Joseph Andrews. From his superintendence Henry was released, by being sent to Eton, where he remained till he was nearly eighteen.

Fielding's high abilities, and his natural love for the classics, obtained him great distinction at Eton; and from the circum

stances of his subsequent life, it is evident that he must have acquired principally at Eton that solid and accurate knowledge of the Greek and Latin authors, which is displayed (though never paraded) in all his varied compositions. To judge from the frequency of his allusions to the Odyssey, Homer must have been his favourite author, and the Odyssey his favourite poem. Indeed, there could be no study better calculated to train up such a novelist as Fielding afterwards became, than the constant perusal of this most entertaining, as well as most beautiful poem, in which characters of every class of life are drawn with such liveliness and skill,-in which the descriptions are so minute and picturesque, and in which the various threads of the narrative are so skilfully woven together.

Fielding's generous and manly character won for him, among his schoolfellows, many friendships that were retained through life, and of which he often felt the substantial advantage in his frequent difficulties and distresses. In the dedication of Tom Jones to Lord Lyttelton, he feelingly acknowledges that nobleman's friendly generosity, to which both the book and its author were indebted for existence.

On leaving Eton, Fielding went to the University of Leyden, where he remained for two years, engaged in studying the civil law. He is said to have been a diligent student at Leyden; and if the means had been afforded him of completing his education as a civilian, there can be little doubt but that he would have acquired wealth and distinction in those courts of this country, which do not follow the rules and principles of the ordinary common law. But, unfortunately, he had not a fair chance given him, of qualifying himself for a profession. General Fielding's increasing family and moderate fortune prevented him from being regular in his remittances to his son. Henry's allowance was nominally 2007. a year; but, as he used to remark, "anybody might pay it that would." Unwilling, therefore, to harass his father, or to run in debt abroad, he found it expedient to return to London before the termination of his twenty-first year.

It appears, from the preface to one of his plays, that he had very early formed a taste for dramatic composition. His "Don Quixote in England," a comedy which he finished and produced some time after his return to London, was projected and partly written by him while he was at Leyden. Writing for the stage seemed to

offer him, when he found himself thrown on the world, the readiest and the most pleasant means of getting a livelihood; and he accordingly composed play upon play, and farce upon farce, with a rapidity which did not allow him to do himself justice, or to take that high station among the dramatic writers of England which he undoubtedly would have acquired, if he could have paused to correct one drama before he projected half-a-dozen more.

Those who remember the late Theodore Hook, or who have read the saddening biographical memoir of him which has lately appeared, can appreciate the temptations and the difficulties of the position, in which Henry Fielding found himself on his return to England, without a profession, without the means of studying for one, without any certain income from his relatives; but with a fresh and creative imagination, a ready pen, high animal spirits, brilliant wit, with a keen relish for social enjoyments, and with powers of shining in conversation, which made his society courted by the high-born and the wealthy, and by men of literary talent in every rank. It cannot be wondered at that, in such circumstances, he ran an early career of dissipation and folly; but it is rather to be wondered at and admired in him that his heart never became hardened, nor was his disposition soured. He was never wanting in filial affection and respect, though it cannot be said that the father, to whom he was dutiful, had fully performed a father's duty to him. His friend and biographer, Murphy, says of him, "By difficulties his resolution was never subdued; on the contrary, they only roused him to struggle through them with a peculiar spirit and magnanimity. When he advanced a little more in life, and his commerce with mankind became enlarged, disappointments were observed by his acquaintances to provoke him into an occasional peevishness and severity of animadversion. 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 most part overflowing with wit, mirth, and good humour."

Fielding's plays were not very successful on the stage; and the nature of their subjects, and the frequent coarseness of their style, prevent them now from having many readers. Fielding's genius, however, sparkles frequently even through the worst of them; and I strongly suspect some modern writers of resorting to these plays for a little safe pilfering. Fielding's own qualities of carelessness and independence prevented his dramatic productions from

obtaining their fair share of applause from the audiences before whom they were represented. He would never trouble himself about stage effect. Murphy, his commentator, who was himself a successful dramatist, considered that these plays were defrauded of much of their due fame by the obstinacy of the author, who showed an undue self-reliance and contempt of public opinion in a branch of literature which, beyond all others, must be swayed by the temper of the multitude. He tells us that Garrick had once attempted in vain to remove a passage, which he saw the author himself was quite conscious was ill-adapted for the stage; the answer was, "If the scene is not a good one, let them find that out." In the midst of the disapprobation of the house, Garrick retreated to the green-room, where he found the author was indulging himself with champagne and tobacco. What's the matter now, Garrick?" he said; "what are they hissing now?" "Why, the scene I begged you to retrench," observed Garrick; "I knew it would not do; and they have so frightened me, that I shall not be able to recollect myself again the whole night." "Oh!" replied the author, "they have found it out, have they?" As another specimen of the same careless spirit, he chose to present the world with the farce of "Eurydice"" as it was damned at the theatre-royal Drury Lane."

There are two of Fielding's dramatic works which must not be passed over unnoticed. These are his two burlesques of “Pasquin” and "Tom Thumb." The first of these was avowedly written in imitation of the "Rehearsal," and in its turn served Sheridan with a model for his "Critic." "Pasquin," however, had not the success of its predecessor, nor did it receive the admiration which has been justly awarded to its successor. In "Pasquin," Fielding satirised every thing and every body. In particular, he made the three great peaceful professions (if it be not a bull to apply that epithet to law) the objects of his special satire. "The three black Graces, Law, Physic, and Divinity" (as another burlesque writer has called them), united in indignant complaint against this modern Aristophanes. The assumed licence, and the undeniable personality of "Pasquin," were put forward as two main reasons for the celebrated Bill, whereby all dramatic compositions were made subject to the veto of the Chamberlain before they may be represented on the stage.

Notwithstanding the ill fate which attended "Pasquin," I

venture to pronounce it a work of the highest talent, if genius be not the more appropriate word. The humour is excellent; nor do I think that the satire at all oversteps the fair bounds of comic writing.

Fielding's other burlesque, "Tom Thumb," had better fortune, and still keeps possession of the stage. It is, however, the barbaric version of Kane O'Hara which is represented; and they who wish to appreciate this genuine specimen of good-humoured ridicule, must look to Fielding's pages, and not to the theatre. Indeed, in any form, "Tom Thumb" is a play rather to be read than to be seen. Tom Thumb and Glumdalca ought to be left to our imagination, and not to the Property-man. If the popularity of this work of Fielding's pen is to be ascertained by a common test, the number of quotations from it, that are universally current, it will be rated very high indeed.

About the year 1733, Fielding married Charlotte, the daughter of Mr. Cradock of Salisbury, a lady of great personal beauty, and possessed of a small fortune of about 15007. Very nearly at the same time his mother's death made him the proprietor of an estate of 2001. a year. His marriage was one entirely of affection; he loved his wife dearly, and he resolved to bid adieu to the pleasures of the town, and enjoy the comforts of his moderate income in retirement. But the unexpected possession of so large a sum in hard cash, was a temptation which Fielding was unable to resist. Whatever speculative views he might have indulged in on the subject of domestic retirement and limited income, he never seems to have once practically formed a plan for maintaining the integrity of his capital. He plunged instantaneously and deeply into every rustic extravagance; and it may afford a good instance to those who are fond of noting the variety of the courses adopted by the reason and the passions in the same man, to recollect that the describer of Squire Western was fired with the ambition of excelling among fox-hunting squires. He kept a retinue of servants, bought horses and hounds, and threw open his gates to convivial hospitality. When in three years his fortune had completely vanished, he stopped a little to consider his situation; and then his naturally strong mind, never overcome by difficulties, though it might yield to prosperity, boldly seized on the arduous profession of the law as a resource. He brought to his attendance at the Temple a settled determination to devote himself