one; for they form the most complete critical treatise upon this species of fiction, and on Tom Jones in particular, they equal all that ingenuity and wit can compose. In his initial chapter to the IXth book, he tells us in a very playful humour, that he designs them as a mark or stamp, by which a reader may distinguish a genuine rational novel, from a counterfeit and and absurd one; in order that some check may be given to those superficial writers, who bring a swarm of foolish romances into the world, only to deprave the morals, taint the imaginations, and pervert the aims of mankind; whilst they possess not adequate ability, to write even an essay like his introductory chapters. The satire, the reason, and the apology of this, is obvious, striking, and effectual.

The art of rousing curiosity by studied delay, and protracting suspense by sudden digressions, has been carried by Fielding to the utmost height; and more so in Tom Jones, than his other performances. At the climax of distress, or just at the catastrophe of an action, when our sympathies are wrought to the extremest pitch, and we tremble for the issue of the event, which we greedily hurry through the page to realize, he pauses unexpectedly, to offer some moral reflection, or indulge in some literary discussion; to enjoy the play of his wit, or amuse us with the sports of his humour. This trait of his writing, has always an unmixed pleasure; for besides being seasoned with most exquisite wit and profound learning, it gives an additional zest to the interest of the story, by prolonging our expectation, and adding to our impatience. Yet to some readers, this digression

P

forms an insuperable objection to his works; and many a feeble imagination, and superficial mind, grows weary by its suspense, and gradually feels its curiosity conquered by indolence and torpor. Viewing it in this light, therefore, I should pronounce it a beauty, rather than a defect.

His style in this performance, is classical, harmonious, and elegant; it is flowing without being affected, polished without refinement, and correct without stiffness. The graces of an exuberant and chaste imagination, give it life and beauty, by the embellishment of tropes, and imagery, and it breathes the natural sweetness of spring, without being studded with tulips, or crowded by roses and hyacinths, like a dutchman's garden, to which the style and diction of most modern novel writers, can only be compared. But the taste of Fielding was natural and unsophisticated; his heart was frank, warm, and generous; and his knowledge of mankind was only inferior to the copious stores of his erudition. Hence he pours out his feelings and his ideas, without constraint; and abounds with the richest choice of the most agreeable sentiment; he mingles his learning with the easy affability of a prodigal, with all his incidents and reflections, and never disgusts us by the starch of pedantry. It has been said, that he was vicious in his life, loose in his pleasures, and vulgar in his company; that he talked like an ostler, and lived like a rake ; but no evidence of this appears in his Novels; for the most perfect gentleman and moralist, might know, and portray, the vulgar scenes, and offensive passions, the low language,

and obscene incidents, that occasionally overshadow the more lucid parts of his romances. Let it be remembered, however, when we feel disposed to condemn Fielding for obscenity, how warmly we eulogize the productions of others, still more guilty. Our author took Cervantes for his model; and who censures him for impropriety, and lowness? The same wit, and the same humour, sparkle through the pages of Fielding; he never feeds the cravings of a debauched fancy, or ministers to the appetites of the villain, but he no sooner paints a disgusting scene, than he regales our minds with the perfume of wit and genius; and a flash of indignant humour, ridicule, and satire, dispels the oppressive vapours, of crime, vulgarity, and vice.

Let us therefore, take the Novels of Fielding and of Waverly, as models of perfection; and they cannot fail to be both interesting and instructive; to brighten the imagination, beguile the tedium of existence, and improve the morals of mankind.

THE

AUTHOR'S JEWEL,

NUMBER XIX.

MODESTY NOT A MARK OF MERIT.

Not always Actions shew the man; we find
Who does a kindness, is not therefore kind :
Perhaps Prosperity becalm'd his breast,
Perhaps the Wind just shifted from the East:
Not therefore humble he who seeks retreat,
Pride guides his steps, and bids him shun the great.

POPE.

Nothing is so much talked of, so much extolled, so much admired as modesty.-In women, and girls, and boys, I grant that modesty is a very amiable and agreeable quality; but in men, I think it a rank deformity, and it accordingly excites my aversion. It is absolutely ridiculous, to affirm that modesty is a sign of worth or merit. It is exactly the reverse, or at least in general; for there may obtain excep. tions to the rule, occasioned by constitutional weakness, timidity, fear, and a depression of animal spirits. But to allege, that modesty is the consequence of merit, is so far from the truth, that it is in fact, an effect proceeding from an opposite cause-a consciousness of the want of worth, sufficient to sustain high pretensions, or a bold and fearless claim to the