The Works of Henry Fielding, vol. 11

  Chapter ix.

  _More adventures in Elysium._

  A crowd of spirits now joined us, whom I soon perceived to be theheroes, who here frequently pay their respects to the several bards therecorders of their actions. I now saw Achilles and Ulysses addressingthemselves to Homer, and AEneas and Julius Caesar to Virgil: Adam went upto Milton, upon which I whispered Mr Dryden that I thought the devilshould have paid his compliments there, according to his opinion. Drydenonly answered, "I believe the devil was in me when I said so." Severalapplied themselves to Shakspeare, amongst whom Henry V. made a verydistinguishing appearance. While my eyes were fixed on that monarch avery small spirit came up to me, shook me heartily by the hand, and toldme his name was THOMAS THUMB. I expressed great satisfaction in seeinghim, nor could I help speaking my resentment against the historian, whohad done such injustice to the stature of this great little man, whichhe represented to be no bigger than a span, whereas I plainly perceivedat first sight he was full a foot and a half (and the 37th part of aninch more, as he himself informed me), being indeed little shorter thansome considerable beaus of the present age.

  I asked this little hero concerning the truth of those stories relatedof him, viz., of the pudding, and the cow's belly. As to the former, hesaid it was a ridiculous legend, worthy to be laughed at; but as to thelatter, he could not help owning there was some truth in it: nor had heany reason to be ashamed of it, as he was swallowed by surprize; adding,with great fierceness, that if he had had any weapon in his hand the cowshould have as soon swallowed the devil.

  He spoke the last word with so much fury, and seemed so confounded,that, perceiving the effect it had on him, I immediately waved thestory, and, passing to other matters, we had much conversation touchinggiants. He said, so far from killing any, he had never seen one alive;that he believed those actions were by mistake recorded of him, insteadof Jack the giant-killer, whom he knew very well, and who had, hefancied, extirpated the race. I assured him to the contrary, and toldhim I had myself seen a huge tame giant, who very complacently stayed inLondon a whole winter, at the special request of several gentlemen andladies; though the affairs of his family called him home to Sweden.

  I now beheld a stern-looking spirit leaning on the shoulder of anotherspirit, and presently discerned the former to be Oliver Cromwell, andthe latter Charles Martel. I own I was a little surprized at seeingCromwell here, for I had been taught by my grandmother that he wascarried away by the devil himself in a tempest; but he assured me, onhis honour, there was not the least truth in that story. However, heconfessed he had narrowly escaped the bottomless pit; and, if the formerpart of his conduct had not been more to his honour than the latter, hehad been certainly soused into it. He was, nevertheless, sent back tothe upper world with this lot:--_Army_, _cavalier_, _distress_.

  He was born, for the second time, the day of Charles II.'s restoration,into a family which had lost a very considerable fortune in the serviceof that prince and his father, for which they received the reward veryoften conferred by princes on real merit, viz.--000. At 16 his fatherbought a small commission for him in the army, in which he servedwithout any promotion all the reigns of Charles II. and of his brother.At the Revolution he quitted his regiment, and followed the fortunes ofhis former master, and was in his service dangerously wounded at thefamous battle of the Boyne, where he fought in the capacity of a privatesoldier. He recovered of this wound, and retired after the unfortunateking to Paris, where he was reduced to support a wife and seven children(for his lot had horns in it) by cleaning shoes and snuffing candles atthe opera. In which situation, after he had spent a few miserable years,he died half-starved and broken-hearted. He then revisited Minos, who,compassionating his sufferings by means of that family, to whom he hadbeen in his former capacity so bitter an enemy, suffered him to enterhere.

  My curiosity would not refrain asking him one question, _i.e._, whetherin reality he had any desire to obtain the crown? He smiled, and said,"No more than an ecclesiastic hath to the mitre, when he cries _Noloepiscopari_." Indeed, he seemed to express some contempt at thequestion, and presently turned away.

  A venerable spirit appeared next, whom I found to be the great historianLivy. Alexander the Great, who was just arrived from the palace ofdeath, past by him with a frown. The historian, observing it, said, "Ay,you may frown; but those troops which conquered the base Asiatic slaveswould have made no figure against the Romans." We then privatelylamented the loss of the most valuable part of his history; after whichhe took occasion to commend the judicious collection made by Mr Hook,which, he said, was infinitely preferable to all others; and at mymentioning Echard's he gave a bounce, not unlike the going off of asquib, and was departing from me, when I begged him to satisfy mycuriosity in one point--whether he was really superstitious or no? For Ihad always believed he was till Mr Leibnitz had assured me to thecontrary. He answered sullenly, "Doth Mr Leibnitz know my mind betterthan myself?" and then walked away.

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