prevent, he said, further talk about Elizabeth Canning. Pamphlets, once started by Fielding and Hill, flew about, at the rate of five or six a month until they numbered a score or two. The questions whether life can be sustained for four weeks on a small loaf of bread and a piece of mince pie, and whether, assuming an affirmative, a person so nourished would be able to walk ten miles immediately thereafter, were raised by Fielding in his pamphlet, but he left the answer to the physicians. Dr. James Solas Dodd, who had published the year before an essay on the natural history of the herring, collected, in "A Physical Account of Elizabeth Canning," several instances of great authority to prove that one may live much longer than a month without any food at all. Daniel Cox, M.D., a member of the Royal College of Physicians, followed with "An Appeal to the Public, in Behalf of Elizabeth Canning." By permission of her friends, he repeatedly examined the girlthat is, looked into her mouth and questioned her about her habits of body-and came to the conclusion that all suspicions of her immorality were baseless. In the endless stream of pamphlets, Fielding was sometimes censured for acting in the double capacity of advocate and magistrate. This was the view taken, for example, in the anonymous 'Canning's Magazine: or, A Review of the Whole Evidence that has been hitherto offered for, or against Elizabeth Canning and Mary Squires." True, Fielding accepted a fee from Salt and afterwards examined the witnesses of the prosecution; but the fee was for his advice on the proper procedure against the suspected offenders; it had no connection with his hearing of the case. Still, a justice of the peace to-day who had received a fee from either party would be disqualified for performing the judicial function. In the eighteenth century, however, this precaution against prejudice was not felt to be necessary. The attempt of Fielding's enemies to turn the public against him on this

score met with no success. Indeed, his frank statement of his conduct, in the opinion of "The Gentleman's Magazine," completely exonerated his character.

Fielding's sympathy with distress, not a paltry fee, warped his vision. This was made clear by Allan Ramsay the painter, who, taking the pseudonym of "a clergyman," entered the fray with "A Letter to the Right Honourable the Earl of Concerning the Affair of Elizabeth Canning." Ramsay had the highest regard for Fielding; no one in his day paid a more just tribute to "Tom Jones," written by a man "who has succeeded so well in every subject he has undertaken, either of business or pleasantry." And he adds of Fielding's pamphlet: "Perhaps there are none of his performances that more discover the ingenuity of the man of wit, the distinctness of the lawyer, or the politeness and candour of the gentleman." Nevertheless, he was surprised to find on what slight grounds Fielding based his belief in the veracity of Canning; to put it bluntly, she misled him by her simple manner. Moreover, Ramsay hints that Salt also deceived the justice. On this point, Sir Crisp Gascoyne spoke more boldly in "An Address to the Liverymen of the City of London," justifying the part he had taken in the celebrated case. The integrity of Fielding the Lord Mayor did not question; he put the blame mostly upon Salt. "If Virtue Hall's examination had been taken," he declares, "as she would have freely given it; if no threats had been used to frighten her; if Mr. Fielding himself had prepared her information, or perhaps had only been present when it was prepared, the troubles, which ensued, could not have happened." Probably Salt was not a scamp; but he was surely led into a questionable act by his zeal. Fielding, who looked upon him as an honest man, let him write out the information of Canning as well as of Hall in private. This explains why the statements of

the two women agree in all essential details and wherein lay Fielding's mistake.

It is not known whether Fielding ever lost faith in the innocence of Canning; but after Squires's pardon he became, as we have seen in one of the letters to the Duke of Newcastle, disgusted with the conduct of the girl's friends because they tried to withhold certain affidavits which threw doubt on her story. Subsequently, when a true bill was found by the grand jury against Canning for perjury, they kept her in hiding, and surrendered her only after a proclamation was made on a Sunday at her parish church commanding her to appear for trial at the next Sessions of the Old Bailey. She never quite confessed the crime with which she was charged; throughout the trial she maintained her composure and could not be swerved from her original story; but before the sentence was pronounced, she addressed the court in a low voice, saying that she had no intent of swearing the gypsy's life away, that what had been done was only in self-defence, that she desired to be considered as unfortunate. Where she was during the month's absence from home still remains a mystery. On the assumption of her being an impostor, it may be surmised that she was with a midwife and that she fabricated the robbery to save her reputation. No one, however, has a right to say this, for it accords neither with what is known of her previous life nor with her life in America. The case may be forever argued, with the weight of the legal evidence rather against her.

No other incident in Fielding's career as justice of the peace brings out so clearly his human side. If he erred, it peace was because like Parson Adams he put too great trust in the outward word and action. "To be placed above the reach of deceit," they are his own words, "is to be placed above the rank of a human being; sure I am that I make no pretension to be of that rank; indeed I have been often

deceived in my opinion of men, and have served and recommended to others those persons whom I have afterwards discovered to be totally worthless. I shall, in short, be very well contented with the character which Cicero gives of Epicurus. Quis illum neget et bonum virum et comem et humanum fuisse! And whoever will allow me this, which I must own I think I deserve, shall have my leave to add, tamen, si haec vera sunt non satis acutus fuit." In these words we have a summary of Fielding. Great as was his intellect, he was above all else a man.

CHAPTER XXII

THE STORY OF AMELIA

The more the business at the Bow Street court, the less became Fielding's income. Those long investigations into riots and robberies, which kept the justice up all night, yielded him in each instance but a few shillings; and the habit grew upon him of composing petty quarrels, out of which he received nothing but thanks. If a wife or a husband accused the other of an assault, he advised them to overlook the grievance, to keep the peace, and, if possible, to live happily thereafter. One morning he was perplexed when Mary Macculloch and Jane Macculloch were arraigned before him for beating Elizabeth Macculloch, all of whom claimed the same man for husband. As none of the three wives had any evidence of her marriage, he decided that Elizabeth, who seemed to have known the man first, possessed the best right to him. The second and third wives, by consenting to the compromise, escaped Bridewell. Again, one evening a boy only twelve years old was brought in and charged with theft. What occurred in the court room was told by Fielding's clerk who reported the case: "The parents of the child (both of whom had an extreme good character) appeared; and the mother fell into agonies scarce to be conceived. In compassion to her, and to the tender years of the child, the justice, instead of sending him to prison, which would have probably ended in the death of the mother, and in the destruction of the son, recommended to his father to give him an immediate private correction with a birchen rod. This was executed with