A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P R S T U V W X Z

Amelia (Complete)

H >> Henry Fielding >> Amelia (Complete)



Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.





THE WORKS OF HENRY FIELDING

EDITED BY
GEORGE SAINTSBURY

IN TWELVE VOLUMES


AMELIA

VOL. I.




AMELIA
BY
HENRY FIELDING ESQ.
[Illustration]

VOL. I.

EDITED BY GEORGE
SAINTSBURY WITH
ILLUSTRATIONS BY
HERBERT RAILTON
& E. J. WHEELER.

MDCCCXCIII



[Illustration]



CONTENTS OF VOL. I.


INTRODUCTION

DEDICATION TO RALPH ALLEN, ESQ


BOOK I.


CHAPTER I.
Containing the exordium, &c.

CHAPTER II.
The history sets out. Observations on the excellency of the English
constitution and curious examinations before a justice of peace

CHAPTER III.
Containing the inside of a prison

CHAPTER IV.
Disclosing further secrets of the prison-house

CHAPTER V.
Containing certain adventures which befel Mr. Booth in the
prison

CHAPTER VI.
Containing the extraordinary behaviour of Miss Matthews on her
meeting with Booth, and some endeavours to prove, by reason and
authority, that it is possible for a woman to appear to be what she
really is not

CHAPTER VII.
In which Miss Matthews begins her history

CHAPTER VIII.
The history of Miss Matthews continued

CHAPTER IX.
In which Miss Matthews concludes her relation

CHAPTER X.
Table-talk, consisting of a facetious discourse that passed in
the prison



BOOK II.


CHAPTER I.
In which Captain Booth begins to relate his history

CHAPTER II.
Mr. Booth continues his story. In this chapter there are some
passages that may serve as a kind of touchstone by which a young lady
may examine the heart of her lover. I would advise, therefore, that
every lover be obliged to read it over in the presence of his
mistress, and that she carefully watch his emotions while he is
reading

CHAPTER III.
The narrative continued. More of the touchstone

CHAPTER IV.
The story of Mr. Booth continued. In this chapter the reader will
perceive a glimpse of the character of a very good divine, with some
matters of a very tender kind

CHAPTER V.
Containing strange revolutions of fortune

CHAPTER VI.
Containing many surprising adventures

CHAPTER VII.
The story of Booth continued--More surprising adventures

CHAPTER VIII.
In which our readers will probably be divided in their opinion of
Mr. Booth's conduct

CHAPTER IX.
Containing a scene of a different kind from any of the preceding



BOOK III.


CHAPTER I.
In which Mr. Booth resumes his story

CHAPTER II.
Containing a scene of the tender kind

CHAPTER III.
In which Mr. Booth sets forward on his journey

CHAPTER IV
A sea piece

CHAPTER V.
The arrival of Booth at Gibraltar, with what there befel him

CHAPTER VI.
Containing matters which will please some readers

CHAPTER VII.
The captain, continuing his story, recounts some particulars which,
we doubt not, to many good people, will appear unnatural

CHAPTER VIII.
The story of Booth continued

CHAPTER IX.
Containing very extraordinary matters

CHAPTER X.
Containing a letter of a very curious kind

CHAPTER XI.
In which Mr. Booth relates his return to England

CHAPTER XII.
In which Mr. Booth concludes his story



BOOK IV.


CHAPTER I.
Containing very mysterious matter

CHAPTER II.
The latter part of which we expect will please our reader better
than the former

CHAPTER III.
Containing wise observations of the author, and other matters

CHAPTER IV.
In which Amelia appears in no unamiable light

CHAPTER V.
Containing an eulogium upon innocence, and other grave matters

CHAPTER VI.
In which may appear that violence is sometimes done to the name of
love

CHAPTER VII.
Containing a very extraordinary and pleasant incident

CHAPTER VIII.
Containing various matters

CHAPTER IX.
In which Amelia, with her friend, goes to the oratorio



BOOK V.


CHAPTER I.
In which the reader will meet with an old acquaintance

CHAPTER I.
Containing a brace of doctors and much physical matter

CHAPTER II.
In which Booth pays a visit to the noble lord

CHAPTER III.
Relating principally to the affairs of serjeant Atkinson

CHAPTER IV.
Containing matters that require no preface

CHAPTER V.
Containing much heroic matter

CHAPTER VI.
In which the reader will find matter worthy his consideration

CHAPTER VII.
Containing various matters

CHAPTER VIII.
The heroic behaviour of Colonel Bath

CHAPTER IX.
Being the last chapter of the fifth book



BOOK VI.


CHAPTER I.
Panegyrics on beauty, with other grave matters

CHAPTER II.
Which will not appear, we presume, unnatural to all married readers

CHAPTER III.
In which the history looks a little backwards

CHAPTER IV.
Containing a very extraordinary incident

CHAPTER V.
Containing some matters not very unnatural

CHAPTER VI.
A scene in which some ladies will possibly think Amelia's conduct
exceptionable

CHAPTER VII.
A chapter in which there is much learning

CHAPTER VIII.
Containing some unaccountable behaviour in Mrs.. Ellison

CHAPTER IX.
Containing a very strange incident



BOOK VII.


CHAPTER I.
A very short chapter, and consequently requiring no preface

CHAPTER II.
The beginning of Mrs. Bennet's history

CHAPTER III.
Continuation of Mrs. Bennet's story

CHAPTER IV.
Farther continuation

CHAPTER V.
The story of Mrs. Bennet continued

CHAPTER VI.
Farther continued

CHAPTER VII.
The story farther continued

CHAPTER VIII.
Farther continuation

CHAPTER IX.
The conclusion of Mrs. Bennet's history

CHAPTER X.
Being the last chapter of the seventh book



BOOK VIII.


CHAPTER I.
Being the first chapter of the eighth book

CHAPTER II.
Containing an account of Mr. Booth's fellow-sufferers

CHAPTER III.
Containing some extraordinary behaviour in Mrs. Ellison

CHAPTER IV.
Containing, among many matters, the exemplary behaviour of Colonel
James

CHAPTER V.
Comments upon authors

CHAPTER VI.
Which inclines rather to satire than panegyric

CHAPTER VII.
Worthy a very serious perusal

CHAPTER VIII.
Consisting of grave matters

CHAPTER IX.
A curious chapter, from which a curious reader may draw sundry
observations

CHAPTER X.
In which are many profound secrets of philosophy



BOOK IX.


CHAPTER I
In which the history looks backwards

CHAPTER II.
In which the history goes forward

CHAPTER III.
A conversation between Dr Harrison and others

CHAPTER IV.
A dialogue between Booth and Amelia

CHAPTER V.
A conversation between Amelia and Dr Harrison, with the result

CHAPTER VI.
Containing as surprising an accident as is perhaps recorded in history

CHAPTER VII.
In which the author appears to be master of that profound learning
called the knowledge of the town

CHAPTER VIII.
In which two strangers make their appearance

CHAPTER IX.
A scene of modern wit and humour

CHAPTER X.
A curious conversation between the doctor, the young clergyman, and
the young clergyman's father



BOOK X.


CHAPTER I.
To which we will prefix no preface

CHAPTER II.
What happened at the masquerade

CHAPTER III.
Consequences of the masqtierade, not uncommon nor surprizing

CHAPTER IV.
Consequences of the masquerade

CHAPTER V.
In which Colonel Bath appears in great glory

CHAPTER VI.
Read, gamester, and observe

CHAPTER VII.
In which Booth receives a visit from Captain Trent

CHAPTER VIII.
Contains a letter and other matters

CHAPTER IX.
Containing some things worthy observation



BOOK XI


CHAPTER I.
Containing a very polite scene

CHAPTER II.
Matters political

CHAPTER III.
The history of Mr. Trent

CHAPTER IV.
Containing some distress

CHAPTER V.
Containing more wormwood and other ingredients

CHAPTER VI.
A scene of the tragic kind

CHAPTER VII.
In which Mr. Booth meets with more than one adventure

CHAPTER VIII.
In which Amelia appears in a light more amiable than gay

CHAPTER IX.
A very tragic scene



BOOK XII.


CHAPTER I.
The book begins with polite history

CHAPTER II.
In which Amelia visits her husband

CHAPTER III.
Containing matter pertinent to the history

CHAPTER IV.
In which Dr Harrison visits Colonel James

CHAPTER V.
What passed at the bailiff's house

CHAPTER VI.
What passed between the doctor and the sick man

CHAPTER VII.
In which the history draws towards a conclusion

CHAPTER VIII.
Thus this history draws nearer to a conclusion

CHAPTER IX.
In which the history is concluded




LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.


FIELDING'S BIRTHPLACE, SHARPHAM PARK

SHE THEN GAVE A LOOSE TO HER PASSION

THEY OPENED THE HAMPER

HE SEIZED HIM BY THE COLLAR

AMELIA AND HER CHILDREN

COLONEL BATH

LAWYER MURPHY

LEANING BOTH HIS ELBOWS ON THE TABLE, FIXED HIS EYES ON HER

BOOTH BETWEEN A BLUE DOMINO AND A SHEPHERDESS

DR HARRISON







INTRODUCTION.


Fielding's third great novel has been the subject of much more
discordant judgments than either of its forerunners. If we take the
period since its appearance as covering four generations, we find the
greatest authority in the earliest, Johnson, speaking of it with
something more nearly approaching to enthusiasm than he allowed
himself in reference to any other work of an author, to whom he was on
the whole so unjust. The greatest man of letters of the next
generation, Scott (whose attitude to Fielding was rather undecided,
and seems to speak a mixture of intellectual admiration and moral
dislike, or at least failure in sympathy), pronounces it "on the whole
unpleasing," and regards it chiefly as a sequel to _Tom Jones_,
showing what is to be expected of a libertine and thoughtless husband.
But he too is enthusiastic over the heroine. Thackeray (whom in this
special connection at any rate it is scarcely too much to call the
greatest man of the third generation) overflows with predilection for
it, but chiefly, as it would seem, because of his affection for Amelia
herself, in which he practically agrees with Scott and Johnson. It
would be invidious, and is noways needful, to single out any critic of
our own time to place beside these great men. But it cannot be denied
that the book, now as always, has incurred a considerable amount of
hinted fault and hesitated dislike. Even Mr. Dobson notes some things
in it as "unsatisfactory;" Mr. Gosse, with evident consciousness of
temerity, ventures to ask whether it is not "a little dull." The very
absence of episodes (on the ground that Miss Matthews's story is too
closely connected with the main action to be fairly called an episode)
and of introductory dissertations has been brought against it, as the
presence of these things was brought against its forerunners.

I have sometimes wondered whether _Amelia_ pays the penalty of an
audacity which, _a priori_, its most unfavourable critics would
indignantly deny to be a fault. It begins instead of ending with the
marriage-bells; and though critic after critic of novels has exhausted
his indignation and his satire over the folly of insisting on these as
a finale, I doubt whether the demand is not too deeply rooted in the
English, nay, in the human mind, to be safely neglected. The essence
of all romance is a quest; the quest most perennially and universally
interesting to man is the quest of a wife or a mistress; and the
chapters dealing with what comes later have an inevitable flavour of
tameness, and of the day after the feast. It is not common now-a-days
to meet anybody who thinks Tommy Moore a great poet; one has to
encounter either a suspicion of Philistinism or a suspicion of paradox
if one tries to vindicate for him even his due place in the poetical
hierarchy. Yet I suspect that no poet ever put into words a more
universal criticism of life than he did when he wrote "I saw from the
beach," with its moral of--

"Give me back, give me back, the wild freshness of morning--Her smiles
and her tears are worth evening's best light."

If we discard this fallacy boldly, and ask ourselves whether _Amelia_
is or is not as good as _Joseph Andrews_ or _Tom Jones_, we shall I
think be inclined to answer rather in the affirmative than in the
negative. It is perhaps a little more easy to find fault with its
characters than with theirs; or rather, though no one of these
characters has the defects of Blifil or of Allworthy, it is easy to
say that no one of them has the charm of the best personages of the
earlier books. The idolaters of Amelia would of course exclaim at this
sentence as it regards that amiable lady; and I am myself by no means
disposed to rank amiability low in the scale of things excellent in
woman. But though she is by no means what her namesake and spiritual
grand-daughter. Miss Sedley, must, I fear, be pronounced to be, an
amiable fool, there is really too much of the milk of human kindness,
unrefreshed and unrelieved of its mawkishness by the rum or whisky of
human frailty, in her. One could have better pardoned her forgiveness
of her husband if she had in the first place been a little more
conscious of what there was to forgive; and in the second, a little
more romantic in her attachment to him. As it is, he was _son homme_;
he was handsome; he had broad shoulders; he had a sweet temper; he was
the father of her children, and that was enough. At least we are
allowed to see in Mr. Booth no qualities other than these, and in her
no imagination even of any other qualities. To put what I mean out of
reach of cavil, compare Imogen and Amelia, and the difference will be
felt.

But Fielding was a prose writer, writing in London in the eighteenth
century, while Shakespeare was a poet writing in all time and all
space, so that the comparison is luminous in more ways than one. I do
not think that in the special scheme which the novelist set himself
here he can be accused of any failure. The life is as vivid as ever;
the minor sketches may be even called a little more vivid. Dr Harrison
is not perfect. I do not mean that he has ethical faults, for that is
a merit, not a defect; but he is not quite perfect in art. His
alternate persecution and patronage of Booth, though useful to the
story, repeat the earlier fault of Allworthy, and are something of a
blot. But he is individually much more natural than Allworthy, and
indeed is something like what Dr Johnson would have been if he had
been rather better bred, less crotchety, and blessed with more health.
Miss Matthews in her earlier scenes has touches of greatness which a
thousand French novelists lavishing "candour" and reckless of
exaggeration have not equalled; and I believe that Fielding kept her
at a distance during the later scenes of the story, because he could
not trust himself not to make her more interesting than Amelia. Of the
peers, more wicked and less wicked, there is indeed not much good to
be said. The peer of the eighteenth-century writers (even when, as in
Fielding's case, there was no reason why they should "mention him with
_Kor_," as Policeman X. has it) is almost always a faint type of
goodness or wickedness dressed out with stars and ribbons and coaches-
and-six. Only Swift, by combination of experience and genius, has
given us live lords in Lord Sparkish and Lord Smart. But Mrs. Ellison
and Mrs. Atkinson are very women, and the serjeant, though the touch
of "sensibility" is on him, is excellent; and Dr Harrison's country
friend and his prig of a son are capital; and Bondum, and "the
author," and Robinson, and all the minor characters, are as good as
they can be.

It is, however, usual to detect a lack of vivacity in the book, an
evidence of declining health and years. It may be so; it is at least
certain that Fielding, during the composition of _Amelia,_ had much
less time to bestow upon elaborating his work than he had previously
had, and that his health was breaking. But are we perfectly sure that
if the chronological order had been different we should have
pronounced the same verdict? Had _Amelia_ come between _Joseph_ and
_Tom,_ how many of us might have committed ourselves to some such
sentence as this: "In _Amelia_ we see the youthful exuberances of
_Joseph Andrews_ corrected by a higher art; the adjustment of plot and
character arranged with a fuller craftsmanship; the genius which was
to find its fullest exemplification in _Tom Jones_ already displaying
maturity"? And do we not too often forget that a very short time--in
fact, barely three years--passed between the appearance of _Tom Jones_
and the appearance of _Amelia?_ that although we do not know how long
the earlier work had been in preparation, it is extremely improbable
that a man of Fielding's temperament, of his wants, of his known
habits and history, would have kept it when once finished long in his
desk? and that consequently between some scenes of _Tom Jones_ and
some scenes of _Amelia_ it is not improbable that there was no more
than a few months' interval? I do not urge these things in mitigation
of any unfavourable judgment against the later novel. I only ask--How
much of that unfavourable judgment ought in justice to be set down to
the fallacies connected with an imperfect appreciation of facts?

To me it is not so much a question of deciding whether I like _Amelia_
less, and if so, how much less, than the others, as a question what
part of the general conception of this great writer it supplies? I do
not think that we could fully understand Fielding without it; I do not
think that we could derive the full quantity of pleasure from him
without it. The exuberant romantic faculty of Joseph Andrews and its
pleasant satire; the mighty craftsmanship and the vast science of life
of _Tom Jones;_ the ineffable irony and logical grasp of _Jonathan
Wild_, might have left us with a slight sense of hardness, a vague
desire for unction, if it had not been for this completion of the
picture. We should not have known (for in the other books, with the
possible exception of Mrs. Fitzpatrick, the characters are a little
too determinately goats and sheep) how Fielding could draw _nuances_,
how he could project a mixed personage on the screen, if we had not
had Miss Matthews and Mrs. Atkinson--the last especially a figure full
of the finest strokes, and, as a rule, insufficiently done justice to
by critics.

And I have purposely left to the last a group of personages about whom
indeed there has been little question, but who are among the triumphs
of Fielding's art--the two Colonels and their connecting-link, the
wife of the one and the sister of the other. Colonel Bath has
necessarily united all suffrages. He is of course a very little
stagey; he reminds us that his author had had a long theatrical
apprenticeship: he is something too much _d'une piece_. But as a study
of the brave man who is almost more braggart than brave, of the
generous man who will sacrifice not only generosity but bare justice
to "a hogo of honour," he is admirable, and up to his time almost
unique. Ordinary writers and ordinary readers have never been quite
content to admit that bravery and braggadocio can go together, that
the man of honour may be a selfish pedant. People have been unwilling
to tell and to hear the whole truth even about Wolfe and Nelson, who
were both favourable specimens of the type; but Fielding the
infallible saw that type in its quiddity, and knew it, and registered
it for ever.

Less amusing but more delicately faithful and true are Colonel James
and his wife. They are both very good sort of people in a way, who
live in a lax and frivolous age, who have plenty of money, no
particular principle, no strong affection for each other, and little
individual character. They might have been--Mrs. James to some extent
is--quite estimable and harmless; but even as it is, they are not to
be wholly ill spoken of. Being what they are, Fielding has taken them,
and, with a relentlessness which Swift could hardly have exceeded, and
a good-nature which Swift rarely or never attained, has held them up
to us as dissected preparations of half-innocent meanness,
scoundrelism, and vanity, such as are hardly anywhere else to be
found. I have used the word "preparations," and it in part indicates
Fielding's virtue, a virtue shown, I think, in this book as much as
anywhere. But it does not fully indicate it; for the preparation, wet
or dry, is a dead thing, and a museum is but a mortuary. Fielding's
men and women, once more let it be said, are all alive. The palace of
his work is the hall, not of Eblis, but of a quite beneficent
enchanter, who puts burning hearts into his subjects, not to torture
them, but only that they may light up for us their whole organisation
and being. They are not in the least the worse for it, and we are
infinitely the better.

[Illustration.]

[Illustration.]




DEDICATION.

To RALPH ALLEN, ESQ.

SIR,--The following book is sincerely designed to promote the cause of
virtue, and to expose some of the most glaring evils, as well public
as private, which at present infest the country; though there is
scarce, as I remember, a single stroke of satire aimed at any one
person throughout the whole.

The best man is the properest patron of such an attempt. This, I
believe, will be readily granted; nor will the public voice, I think,
be more divided to whom they shall give that appellation. Should a
letter, indeed, be thus inscribed, DETUR OPTIMO, there are few persons
who would think it wanted any other direction.

I will not trouble you with a preface concerning the work, nor
endeavour to obviate any criticisms which can be made on it. The good-
natured reader, if his heart should be here affected, will be inclined
to pardon many faults for the pleasure he will receive from a tender
sensation: and for readers of a different stamp, the more faults they
can discover, the more, I am convinced, they will be pleased.

Nor will I assume the fulsome stile of common dedicators. I have not
their usual design in this epistle, nor will I borrow their language.
Long, very long may it be before a most dreadful circumstance shall
make it possible for any pen to draw a just and true character of
yourself without incurring a suspicion of flattery in the bosoms of
the malignant. This task, therefore, I shall defer till that day (if I
should be so unfortunate as ever to see it) when every good man shall
pay a tear for the satisfaction of his curiosity; a day which, at
present, I believe, there is but one good man in the world who can
think of it with unconcern.

Accept then, sir, this small token of that love, that gratitude, and
that respect, with which I shall always esteem it my GREATEST HONOUR
to be,

Sir,
Your most obliged,
and most obedient
humble servant,
HENRY FIELDING.

_Bow Street, Dec. 2, 1751._


[Illustration.]





AMELIA.

VOL. I

BOOK I.

Chapter i.

_Containing the exordium, &c._


The various accidents which befel a very worthy couple after their
uniting in the state of matrimony will be the subject of the following
history. The distresses which they waded through were some of them so
exquisite, and the incidents which produced these so extraordinary,
that they seemed to require not only the utmost malice, but the utmost
invention, which superstition hath ever attributed to Fortune: though
whether any such being interfered in the case, or, indeed, whether
there be any such being in the universe, is a matter which I by no
means presume to determine in the affirmative. To speak a bold truth,
I am, after much mature deliberation, inclined to suspect that the
public voice hath, in all ages, done much injustice to Fortune, and
hath convicted her of many facts in which she had not the least
concern. I question much whether we may not, by natural means, account
for the success of knaves, the calamities of fools, with all the
miseries in which men of sense sometimes involve themselves, by
quitting the directions of Prudence, and following the blind guidance
of a predominant passion; in short, for all the ordinary phenomena
which are imputed to Fortune; whom, perhaps, men accuse with no less
absurdity in life, than a bad player complains of ill luck at the game
of chess.

But if men are sometimes guilty of laying improper blame on this
imaginary being, they are altogether as apt to make her amends by
ascribing to her honours which she as little deserves. To retrieve the
ill consequences of a foolish conduct, and by struggling manfully with
distress to subdue it, is one of the noblest efforts of wisdom and
virtue. Whoever, therefore, calls such a man fortunate, is guilty of
no less impropriety in speech than he would be who should call the
statuary or the poet fortunate who carved a Venus or who writ an
Iliad.

Life may as properly be called an art as any other; and the great
incidents in it are no more to be considered as mere accidents than
the several members of a fine statue or a noble poem. The critics in
all these are not content with seeing anything to be great without
knowing why and how it came to be so. By examining carefully the
several gradations which conduce to bring every model to perfection,
we learn truly to know that science in which the model is formed: as
histories of this kind, therefore, may properly be called models of
_human life_, so, by observing minutely the several incidents which
tend to the catastrophe or completion of the whole, and the minute
causes whence those incidents are produced, we shall best be
instructed in this most useful of all arts, which I call the _art
_ of _life_.

Copyright (c) 2007. famouswriterz.com. All rights reserved.