"MADAM, "I have presumed to send your ladyship a copy of the play which you did me the honour of reading three acts of last spring, and hope it may meet as light a censure from your ladyship's judgment as then; for which your goodness permits me (what I esteem the greatest, and indeed the only happiness of my life), to offer my unworthy performances to your perusal, it will be entirely from your sentence that they will be regarded or disesteemed by me. I shall do myself the honour of calling at your ladyship's door to-morrow at eleven, which, if it be an improper hour, I beg to know from your servant what other time will be more convenient. I am, with the greatest respect and gratitude, madam, "Your ladyship's most obedient, "To the Right Honourable "I hope your ladyship will honour the scenes which I presume to lay before you with your perusal. As they are written on a model I never yet attempted, I am exceedingly anxious lest they should find less mercy from you than my lighter productions. It will be a slight compensation to The Modern Husband' that your ladyship's censure of him will defend him from the possibility of any other reproof, since your least approbation will always give me pleasure, infinitely superior to the loudest applauses of a theatre. For whatever has passed your judgment may, I think, without any imputation of immodesty, refer want of success to want of judgment in an audience. I shall do myself the honour of waiting on your ladyship at Twickenham, next Monday, to receive my sentence; and am, madam, "Your ladyship's most obedient servant, "HENRY FIELDING."1 "London, September 4, 1731." When published, the comedy of "The Modern Husband" was dedicated by its author to Sir Robert Walpole. Fielding seems, for some time, to have laboured under the impression that this all-powerful minister might be induced by importunity to take an interest in the fortunes of a struggling man of letters, who was in want of a patron, and who had wit, youth, a handsome person, and good family to recommend him. Hence the poetical epistle of the former year, and hence also another similar copy (1) Letters and Works of Lady Mary Wortley Montague. Edited by Lord Wharncliffe. Vol. i., p. lv. Lady Mary was Fielding's second cousin. of verses, in which the poet compared his own levée of creditors to the minister's levée of courtiers. But of these strong hints no notice was taken, and Fielding cooled his heels in the minister's antechamber in vain. Having, however, now produced a literary performance of some pretensions, for a five-act comedy was then thought something of,-he seized the opportunity of laying it at Sir Robert's feet, and of addressing in pompous prose the august dispenser of patronage :-"Nations and the Muses," he wrote, "have generally enjoyed the same protectors. When the little artifices of your enemies, which you have surmounted, shall be forgotten,-when envy shall cease to misrepresent your actions, and ignorance to misapprehend them, the Muses shall remember their protector, the wise statesman and the generous patron, the steady friend and the true patriot; but above all, that humanity and sweetness of temper, which shine through all your actions, shall render the name of Sir Robert Walpole dear to his no longer ungrateful country." It cannot be denied that these terms of praise were judiciously chosen but literature was not in Walpole's way, and Fielding's elaborate prose eulogium was not more successful than his poetical panegyric. In the summer of 1732, Fielding attempted to satisfy the public craving for novelty by the production of a new burlesque, and a three-act comedy levelled at the Jesuits, which were both acted at Drury Lane on the same evening. The burlesque was entitled "The Covent Garden Tragedy," and was intended as a satire on "The Distressed Mother" of Ambrose Phillips. Phillips's tragedy (which is a very stiff and formal version of Racine's stiff and formal play of " Andromaque"), on its first production in 1712, had been laboriously puffed and praised by the literary celebrities of the day. "Before the appearance of the play," says Johnson, "a whole Spectator'-none indeed of the best-was devoted to its praise; while it yet continued to be acted, another Spectator' was written, to tell what impression it made upon Sir Roger; and on the first night a select audience was called together to applaud it." Its success was further enhanced by an excellent prologue, ascribed to Eustace Budgel, but believed to be from the pen of Addison. Nor was this success merely transient. "The Distressed Mother" was regarded by managers as a stock-piece, and its dull and decorous scenes were frequently inflicted upon somnolent audiences. Mr. Dibdin, in his "History of the Stage," observes with reference to this tragedy, that "the perpetual see-saw of interest being divided between four characters, who relieve one another like sentinels, or buckets in a well, is intolerably tedious. I once," he adds, "saw it acted by four performers, each of whom had a different lisp." A glance at Fielding's burlesque will enable the reader to see how cleverly he has parodied this " see-saw of interest," which Dibdin describes. For the stately classical interlocutors of the tragedy, he substituted the lowest frequenters of the lowest haunts of London-bullies, thieves, and street-walkers. The humour of the burlesque, which is very considerable, is consequently deformed by unusual coarseness and indecency. It is enough to say that the dramatis persona have sentiments and expressions put into their mouths which are quite compatible with their characters and position. "The Debauchee; or, the Jesuit Caught," was a skilful (1) Covent Garden is reported by Macklin to have been a scene of much dissipation at this period (from the year 1730 to 1735), being surrounded with taverns, night-houses, &c. Here and in Clare Market congregated most of the theatrical wits. "The ordinaries of that day," he adds, "were from 6d. to 1s. per head; at the latter there were two courses, and a great deal of what the world calls good company in the mixed way. There were private rooms for the higher order of wits and noblemen, where much drinking was occasionally used. The butchers of Clare Market, then very numerous, were stanch friends to the players; and on every dread of a riot or disturbance in the house, the early appearance of these formidable critics made an awful impression." attack on that powerful order, at this time (1732) the object of public detestation throughout Protestant Europe. The shocking and melancholy story of Father Girard and Catherine Cadière was now the talk of the town. Girard was a Jesuit, and the confessor of the unhappy lady, whose dishonour he had accomplished by artfully taking advantage of his priestly office and character. Detected and exposed, he was tried for the offence, and condemned to be burnt alive; but the Jesuits interfered in his behalf, and he was enabled to make his escape. Whilst this tale was fresh in the public recollection, no one could paint a Jesuit black enough to satisfy the popular taste; and Fielding accordingly tried his hand, and produced a finished portrait of clerical perfidy and hypocrisy. His Jesuit (Martin) was, however, undistinguished by any marked individuality. One scoundrel who assumes the cloak of religion for the better gratification of his unhallowed passions is pretty much like another: Jesuit or Puritan-Martin, Tartuffe, or Cantwell-the features are about the same; and consequently Fielding's Popish monster is only the old stagehypocrite after all. When compared with dramas of the same description, this comedy is, however, entitled to favourable consideration. Its language and incidents, it is true, are too gross and indelicate to be tolerated in these days:1 but this is a fault which it shares. not only with most contemporary comedies, but also with many more recent plays of the class to which it belongs. In the autumn of this year, Fielding resorted to a practice which was not so common amongst the dramatists of that age as of ours. Instead of relying on his own powers (1) Both "The Covent Garden Tragedy" and "The Debauchee" were freely censured at the time for their flagrant indecency. In the "Grub Street Journal" of July, 1732, copious extracts are given from the burlesque, and it is stated that both plays "have met with the universal detestation of the town." If this were so, it is strange that they should have been tolerated on the stage so long as they were. The truth is, Fielding too faithfully consulted the taste of the age. of invention, he borrowed a few scenes from the theatre of the French. With the comedies of Molière he had been familiar from his earliest youth, and of the genius of that great dramatist he was a profound admirer. With a thorough appreciation of his author, what could he do better than adapt his matchless humour to the English stage? Accordingly, under the title of "The Mock Doctor; or, the Dumb Lady Cured," he produced at Drury Lane a very farcical and amusing version of "Le Médecin malgré lui.”1 The genial hearty humour of this little piece comes upon us quite as a relief after the vapid and indecent trash which the thoughtless dramatist had, during the previous twelvemonth, inflicted on the town. Large audiences were charmed with and applauded it; and its merits were rewarded by a more permanent popularity than was conceded to most of Fielding's dramatic efforts. In the preface to the "Mock Doctor"-(Fielding published this trifle with a dedication to Dr. John Misaubin3) -the dramatist takes occasion to state that the success of his experiment would stimulate him to further exertion in the same field. "One pleasure I enjoy," he says, "from the success of this piece is a prospect of transplanting successfully some others of Molière of great value." This promise he redeemed at the close of the year by his (1) "Le Médecin malgré lui" had been previously adapted to the English stage by Lacy (1672), in a comedy called "The Dumb Lady;" and by Mrs. Centlivre, in "Love's Contrivances" (1703). (2) In the fifth book of "Tom Jones" a characteristic anecdote is narrated of this gentleman: "Nay, sometimes," says the novelist, "by gaining time, the disease applies to the French military politics, and corrupts nature over to his side, and then all the powers of physic must arrive too late. Agreeable to these observations was, I remember, the complaint of the great Doctor Misaubin, who used very pathetically to lament the late applications which were made to his skill; saying, 'Bygar, me believe my pation take me for de undertaker : for dey never send for me till de physicion have kill dem.'" And in the thirteenth book of the novel, chap. ii., reference is again made to this professor of the healing art: "The learned Dr. Misaubin used to say that the proper direction to him was, 'To Dr. Misaubin, in the World; intimating that there were few people in it to whom his great reputation was not known." |