THE

AUTHOR'S JEWEL,

NUMBER XVII.

Fielding's Novels.

"AMELIA" AND " JONATHAN WILD."

"Wisest men

"Have err'd, and by bad women been deceiv'd; "And shall again, pretend they ne'er so wise." Samson Agonistes.

Of all the productions of this fascinating writer, "Amelia" appears to me the most finished, entertaining, and complete, though not the most laboured, or voluminous. What is produced with pain, seldom yields pleasure and delight; but rather proves as disagreeable to the reader, as it was irksome and operose to the author. The contrary of this proposition obtains with still greater force, that what we beget with pleasure, is most apt to impart joy and satisfaction.

Yet the lover of merriment and humour, will find le'ss in this work, to gratify his laughter-loving appetite, than either Tom Jones, or Joseph Andrews affords. The whole fable of Amelia is tender and pathetic; replete with incidents of disaster, and strokes of affliction; exhibiting an unvaried change of misfortune, and perplexity of distress, which melts our

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sympathy, enchains attention, and excites the utmost greediness of curiosity.

The calamities which befal Amelia and her husband, of course form the subject of the story, and like all the Novels of our author, the plot, incidents, sentiments, and manners, breathe all the glowing freshness of life, nature, and reality. Probability is never violated, for convenience or embellishment; mortals are never enrobed in the pure attributes of spirits of another world, and foolishly exalted above human frailties and wants. Mingled virtues and vices form all his characters, except that of Amelia; who in place of being darkened by crime, is only shaded by the want of wisdom and learning, and by the possession of amiable weaknesses. Fielding was with reason, strongly averse to the pedantry of learned women; and while he was careful to make his heroine, a sensible, handsome, and good wife, he was equally careful not to endue her with the glitter of feminine erudition, against which he directs the strokes of his satire with biting acrimony. In the character of Mrs. Bennet, he has introduced a classical scholar, as a half, or three-quarters wit; who is successively, the wife of a parson, the victim of a Lord, and the legacy of a Sergeant.

The professed object of this author, is to promote the cause of virtue, and expose "some of the most glaring evils, as well public as private," that afflicted his country at the period he wrote. In the ac. complishment of the first object he has more particularly traced and depicted, the baneful consequences that flow from the indulgence of a favourite and

predominant passion; and in the elucidation of the second, he has shewn by practical examples the utter folly of many laws, which appeared in themselves to be perfect and beneficial: while the instruments employed to execute them, were the most ignorant, stupid, and hard-hearted of monsters.

It is not our object to regularly detail the progress of the story, and analyze all its parts; which would exceed the limits assigned to this essay. Our chief purpose, is to point out those errors and blemishes, that have denied our author the trophy of perfection; and condemned him to the reluctant objections of criticism. Among these, we must certainly class the ludicrous accident, that for a time deformed the beauty of Amelia, and brought Booth to her feet, as a compassionate lover. Who can avoid viewing in a very ridiculous light, a heroine, whose lovely nose was beat all to pieces, and who is obliged to receive company in a mask? I cannot but deem this a great blemish in the novel of Amelia; yet at the same time it is the only one of much importance.

Such defects are perceived with pain, and censured with reluctance, in an author who is universally allowed to be a master of Nature. What is more painful, than the occasional aberrations of Shakspeare, in this respect; and yet who can produce such a host of beauties, to palliate and excuse his errors?-And it is a happy circumstance, that those only commit such mistakes, who copy after nature; and that their great success more than compensates for their par tial failure. An equable writer, regular, correct,

and dull, is denied the felicity of a bold miscarriage ; he dare not venture, he has not the soaring energy sublime, to tempt the skies with flights above the common wing; he plays at a secure distance, upon the sun-beams of fancy; and is happy if he sometimes sparkles and shines in the prettyness of graceful motions, and the harmony of common strains. But Fielding, and Shakspeare, in their respective regions, soar like the Eagle into higher spheres, and deride the puny flutter of inferior bards.

A singular contradiction occurs, in Booth's relation of his story to Miss Mathews, where he takes the letter of Amelia's sister from his pocket, to read it; and we are previously told, that the Methodist, while discoursing with Booth upon the efficacy of grace, had picked his pocket of his snuff-box, and rifled it of all he could find. This, however, is a very trivial inconsistency; and though he sometimes lost sight of trifles, yet he was always quick in the production of new and splendid beauties.

In the character of Colonel Bath, there may appear to the transitory reader, rather too vivid a colour of burlesque; and indeed we soon perceive, that the writer has quitted the reality of life, for the satirical aggravations of a restless fancy. But Fielding intended it as a travesty; and it is this which forms the beauty of the picture.

A fastidious purity may perhaps see some fault in the prison scene, where Booth becomes the prey of a methodist parson, a finished sharper, an expert gamester, and an abandoned trull. But where vul. garity and turpitude are painted in colours so abhor