Fielding by Austin Dobson
page 91 of 206 (44%)
page 91 of 206 (44%)
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very relevant attack upon the "pretty, dapper, brisk, smart, pert
Dialogue" of Modern Comedy into which the "infinite Wit" of Wycherley had degenerated under Cibber. It also contains a compliment to the numbers of the "inimitable Author" of the _Essay on Man_. This is the second compliment which Fielding had paid to Pope within a brief period, the first having been that in the _Champion_ respecting the translation of the _Iliad_. What his exact relations with the author of the _Dunciad_ were, has never been divulged. At first they seem to have been rather hostile than friendly. Fielding had ridiculed the Romish Church in the _Old Debauchees_, a course which Pope could scarcely have approved; and he was, moreover, the cousin of Lady Mary, now no longer throned in the Twickenham Temple. Pope had commented upon a passage in _Tom Thumb_, and Fielding had indirectly referred to Pope in the _Covent Garden Tragedy_. When it had been reported that Pope had gone to see _Pasquin_, the statement had been at once contradicted. But Fielding was now, like Pope, against Walpole; and _Joseph Andrews_ had been published. It may therefore be that the compliments in _Plutus_ and the _Champion_ were the result of some _rapprochement_ between the two. It is, nevertheless, curious that, at this very time, an attempt appears to have been made to connect the novelist with the controversy which presently arose out of Cibber's well-known letter to Pope. In August 1742, the month following its publication, among the pamphlets to which it gave rise, was announced _The Cudgel; or, a Crab-tree Lecture, To the Author of the Dunciad_. "By Hercules Vinegar, Esq." This very mediocre satire in verse is still to be found at the British Museum; but even if it were not included in Fielding's general disclaimer as to unsigned work, it would be difficult to connect it with him. To give but one reason, it would make him the ally and adherent of Cibber,--which is absurd. In all probability, like another Grub Street squib under the |
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