anonymous books or pamphlets; his sister wished to keep her authorship concealed; and Millar, of course, equally wished to retain the shadowy influence of Fielding's name on the sales. The knot was untied by their bringing out another impression of the novel with a title-page enlarged to include "The Second Edition, Revised and Corrected. With a Preface by Henry Fielding Esq." Suppressing his sister's Advertisement, Fielding informed the public in his preface that the author was "a young woman. nearly and dearly allied to me, in the highest friendship as well as relation," who needed in the composition of a novel no assistance from him or from anyone else. It appears, however, though his statement is vague, that he did render her considerable aid in the matter of details and the general conduct of the story; and for the second impression he certainly reread much of the novel, correcting "grammatical and other errors in style," and occasionally inserting a piquant phrase, especially in the chapter headings. But all the original lapses of his sister in diction, he declared, amounted to little when set against the beauties of the book and its noble thoughts. His love for his sister is ample excuse for his opinion that "the merit of this work consists in a vast penetration into human nature, a deep and profound discernment of all the mazes, windings and labyrinths, which perplex the heart of man to such a degree, that he is himself often incapable of seeing through them.” In this high estimate of Sarah's novel, Richardson for once agreed with his rival. After Fielding's death, Richardson wrote to her, in line with a remark of Dr. Johnson's, that her late brother's knowledge of the human heart was but as "the knowledge of the outside of a clock-work machine," while hers was "that of all the finer springs and movements of the inside. To be suspected as the author of "David Simple," said Fielding, was an honour that * Barbauld, "Correspondence," II, 104.

should displease no one. What grieved him was that the public refused to take him at his word, really accused him of duplicity, in breaking a promise which he had solemnly made in print the previous year and had so far strictly kept, "of never publishing, even a pamphlet, without setting my name to it." The honour thrust upon him involved grave dishonour.

"David Simple" aside, Fielding believed that his enemies were engaged in a conspiracy to smirch his good name; they would disgrace him both as a lawyer and as a man of letters. With great vehemence, he denounced them and their "Causidicade," revoked his promise, and bade farewell to literature:

"A second Reason which induces me to refute this Untruth [his writing 'David Simple'], is, that it may have a Tendency to injure me in a Profession, to which I have applied with so arduous and intent a Diligence, that I have had no Leisure, if I had Inclination, to compose any thing of this kind. Indeed I am very far from entertaining such an Inclination; I know the Value of the Reward, which Fame confers on Authors, too well, to endeavour any longer to obtain it; nor was the World ever more unwilling to bestow the glorious, envied Prize of the Laurel or Bays, than I should now be to receive any such Garland or Fool's Cap. There is not, I believe, (and it is bold to affirm) a single Free Briton in this Kingdom, who hates his Wife more heartily than I detest the Muses. They have indeed behaved to me like the most infamous Harlots, and have laid many a spurious, as well as deformed Production at my Door: In all which, my good Friends the Critics have, in their profound Discernment, discovered some Resemblance of the Parent; and thus I have been reputed and reported the Author of half the Scurrility, Bawdy, Treason and Blasphemy, which these few last Years have produced.

"Among all the Scurrilities with which I have been accused, (tho' equally and totally innocent of every one) none ever raised my Indignation so much as the Causidicade; this accused me not only of being a bad Writer, and a bad Man, but with downright Idiotism, in flying in the Face of the greatest Men of my Profession. I take therefore this Opportunity to protest, that I never saw that infamous, paultry Libel, till long after it had been in Print; nor can any Man hold it in greater Contempt and Abhorrence than myself.

"The Reader will pardon my dwelling so long on this Subject, as I have suffered so cruelly by these Aspersions in my own Ease, in my Reputation, and in my Interest. I shall however henceforth treat such Censure with the Contempt it deserves; and do here revoke the Promise I formerly made; so that I shall now look upon myself at full Liberty to publish an anonymous Work, without any Breach of Faith. For tho' probably I shall never make any use of this Liberty, there is no reason why I should be under a Restraint, for which I have not enjoyed the purposed Recompence."

This passage, so lacking in sanity, came from a mind distraught. Fielding's practice doubtless was not increasing as rapidly as he hoped, and "The Causidicade," so long as it was considered his, must have cooled his legal brethren towards him; but above all else he saw approaching the greatest affliction of his life. Since the death of their first daughter, Mrs. Fielding had never recovered from her illness and grief. The Bath waters would not do their work. "To see her daily languishing and wearing away before his eyes," says Murphy, "was too much for a man of his strong sensations; the fortitude of mind, with which he met all the other calamities of life, deserted him on this most trying occasion." In 1744, Fielding took her to Bath for the last time. Few details are known of the final scene.

Mrs. Fielding caught a fever, it is said, and died there in her husband's arms. Her body was brought to London and buried, on November 14, 1744, in the chancel vault at St. Martin's in the Fields by the side of her daughter Charlotte. An account of the last honours paid to her may be read in the sexton's book, along with the expenses, amounting to eleven pounds, seventeen shillings, and twopence for the tolling of the great bell, for lighted candles, for blacks, and for all the ceremonial accorded to noble families. This fine and beautiful spirit that broke under hardships and misfortunes which could not be averted, was to win certain immortality in the memorial that her husband raised for her under the names of Sophia Western and Amelia Booth.

Fielding's grief at the loss of his wife was so vehement, says Murphy, that his friends thought him "in danger of losing his reason.' But "when the first emotions of his sorrow were abated, philosophy administered her aid; his resolution returned, and he began again to struggle with his fortune." In the same tenor wrote Lady Louisa Stuart, who repeated what she had heard said by her mother, the daughter of Fielding's cousin, Lady Mary Wortley Montagu. This period of intense grief, which at first "approached to frenzy,"* lasted for nearly a year, during which we have no public utterance from or about Fielding. But soon after the death of his wife, he took a house, Mr. de Castro has discovered, in Old Boswell Court, lying between Carey Street and Butcher Row and now forming a part of the site of the Royal Courts of Justice. Within easy reach of all the great Inns, it was a favourite place of residence for lawyers. Of Fielding's neighbours, Mr. Justice Wright and Serjeant Wynne (whose house was next to his) had subscribed to his "Miscellanies," Serjeant Leeds enjoyed a large practice, and Mr. Thomas Lane, whom Fielding afterwards mentioned in a letter, was Chair* "Letters and Works of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu,'' 1861, I, 106.

man of the Middlesex Quarter Sessions. As revealed by the account of the overseers of the parish of St. Clement Danes, Fielding regularly paid the rates levied against the house he occupied in Old Boswell Court, from the last quarter of 1744 to the end of the third quarter in 1747.* During this period his sister Sarah probably lived with him; there was a daughter Harriot; and his wife's maid, Mary Daniel, stayed on as housekeeper. The little group, as time went on, was perhaps augmented by the presence of Miss Margaret Collier of Salisbury, coming for long visits. Miss Collier was a daughter of Arthur Collier, the metaphysician, who like Berkeley demonstrated the nonexistence of an external world. He died in poverty, leaving two daughters, Jane and Margaret, at the mercy of this non-existent world. The Collier and Fielding children had grown up together at Salisbury. Jane later collaborated with Sarah on "The Cry"; but it was Margaret who eventually became almost a member of the new Fielding household. That there was room for them all may be inferred from the fact that Fielding's parochial taxes amounted, on the average, to six pounds and fifteen shillings a year, next to the largest sum paid by any tenant in Old Boswell Court. As ever, we find him living here, not in the traditional garret, but in a commodious house such as was expected of a gentleman.

Fielding clearly chose his residence in accordance with his previous determination to give undivided attention to the law. But again affairs, public and private, would not permit him to live the life which he had planned. He broke silence in the autumn of 1745, on the invasion of England by Charles Edward, the young Stuart Pretender. The year before, the Ministry which had been formed after the defeat of Walpole went to pieces, and was succeeded by the Broad * Mr. J. Paul de Castro, "Notes and Queries," 12 S. I, 264-265 (April 1, 1916).