Sarah Fielding (1710–1768), novelist, the third daughter of Edmund Fielding by his first wife, and sister of Henry Fielding was born at East Stour, Dorsetshire, 8 Nov. 1710. She published her first novel, “The Adventures of David Simple in search of a Faithful Friend,” in 1744. Her brother contributed a preface in the second edition in the same year, and he wrote another three years later to a collection of “Familiar Letters between the principal characters in David Simple and some others.” This originally appeared in 1747, and contains five letters by Henry Fielding (pp. 294–351). A third volume was added to “David Simple” in 1752. She joined with Miss Collier (daughter of Arthur Collier) in “The Cry, a Dramatic Fable,” Dublin, 1754. She wrote also “The Governess,” 1749; “History of the Countess of Dellwyn,” 1759; “Lives of Cleopatra and Octavia,” 1757; “History of Ophelia,” 1785; and Xenophon’s “Memoirs of Socrates; with the Defence of Socrates before his Judges,” 1762, translated from the Greek, in which some notes and possibly a revision were contributed by James Harris of Salisbury.

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  I amuse myself as well as I can with reading. I have just gone through your two volumes of “Letters;” have reperused them with great pleasure, and found many beauties in them. What a knowledge of the human heart! Well might a critical judge of writing say, as he did to me, that your late brother’s knowledge of it was not (fine writer as he was) comparable to yours. His was but as the knowledge of the outside of a clockwork-machine, while yours was that of all the finer springs and movements of the inside.

  Before taking our leave of the novels and novelists of the ancient régime, let us not omit to mention Sarah Fielding, the sister of the author of “Tom Jones,” who, in her day, was a writer of no small celebrity, but whose books have now long been forgotten by all save the curious student of English literature. Her chief work was a novel written in imitation of “Gil Blas,” the title of which will sufficiently describe its character: “The Adventures of David Simple, containing an Account of his Travels through the Cities of London and Westminster, in the Search of a Real Friend, by A Lady.” In was the forerunner—doubtless the suggester—of several better works bearing similar titles and following the same general plan.

  The pale moon who attended these three main luminaries. Her “David Simple,” published in 1742, in two volumes, is not a great, but it is certainly an unduly neglected, book. Not only does its rank in time, as the third English novel, give it interest, but it displays a certain prim grace of construction, and a considerable refinement in the analysis of character. It takes a place midway between the work of Richardson and that of her brother, less morbid than the former, less gusty than the latter, and of course much feebler than either. The sedate wavering of David Simple between the rival passions of Camilla and Cynthia might, it may be suggested, have served Richardson as a hint for the conduct of Sir Charles Grandison. Sarah Fielding, it is to be regretted, made no further serious effort in fiction; perhaps her brother’s genius dazzled her. But she had a genuine talent of her own.

  Oblivion has odd caprices, and in literature, as in the world at large, we are sometimes at a loss when we try to discern the definite unfitness which has interfered with survival. Sarah Fielding, praised—and justly praised—in her lifetime by Richardson on the one hand, and by her brother, Henry Fielding, on the other, is probably not known at this moment to a dozen readers. She has become one of those writers whose good things any man may steal without fear of detection. Yet the good things are plentiful, and any leisurely reader may find it very much worth his while to bestow a few hours upon “David Simple” or “Ophelia,” or even the “Familiar Letters.” Leisurely, however, he must be; and he will do well to bear in mind the observation made by Dr. Johnson upon a greater than Sarah Fielding. “Why, sir,” said the Doctor, “If you were to read Richardson for the story your impatience would be so much fretted that you would hang yourself.” Miss Fielding is not, indeed, as long-winded as her admired friend Richardson (it is only the immortals who can be that, and survive), but she has the comfortable prolixity of her day, and is by no means in a hurry to get on to the next incident. It is for the sprightly narrative, the happy phrase, the ironical turn of mind, that these volumes are worth reading.

  Miss Fielding’s slight knowledge of the world disabled her from giving fresh life to the picaresque romance.

  Richardson sang of chastity; Fielding sang of patience; “David Simple” is an exaltation of friendship. The episode of Dumont and Stainville is as noble and tender as the mediæval Story of Palamon and Arcite. Its place in English fiction is as a little companion piece to “Pamela” and “Amelia.”

  It [“David Simple”] is an exceedingly dull book, boasting of little or no construction, and intended to exemplify the misfortunes and ill-usage which are sure to befall those who judge others by their own high moral standards…. The book had a considerable run, but at the present day it can be regarded only as a literary curiosity.