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twenty volumes of sermons; and Dr. Sherlock recommended it from the pulpit! A second part of Pamela' was added in 1:42, but, like all such continuations, it was greatly inferior to the first, and was quite superfluous as regards the story. In 1748 appeared, in eight volumes, Richardson's second and greatest work, the History of Clarissa Harlowe;' and in 1753, in six volumes, his novel, designed to represent the beau-idéal of a gentleman and Christian, the History of Sir Charles Grandison.' The almost unexampled success and popularity of Richardson's life and writings were to himself disturbed and clouded by nervous attacks, which rendered him delicate and feeble in health. He was flattered and soothed by a number of female friends, in whose society he spent most of his time, and after reaching the goodly age of seventy-two, he died on the 4th of July 1761. The works of Richardson are all pictures of the heart. No man understood human nature better, or could draw with greater distinctness the minute shades of feeling and sentiment, or the final results of our passions. He wrote his novels, it is said, in his back-shop, in the intervals of business; and must have derived exquisite pleasure from the moral anatomy in which he was silently engaged--conducting his characters through the scenes of his ideal world, and giving expression to all the feelings, motives, and impulses of which our nature is susceptible. He was happiest in female characters. Much of his time had been spent with the gentler sex, and his own retired habits and nervous sensibility approximated to feminine softness. He well repaid the sex for all their attentions by his character of Clarissa, one of the noblest tributes ever paid to female virtue and honour. The moral elevation of this heroine, the saintly purity which she preserves amidst scenes of the deepest depravity and the most seductive gaiety, and the never-failing sweetness and benevolence of her temper, render Clarissa one of the brightest triumphs of the whole range of imaginative literature. Perhaps the climax of her distress is too overwhelming too oppressive to the feelings-but it is a healthy sorrow. We see the full radiance of virtue; and no reader ever rose from the perusal of those tragic scenes without feeling his moral nature renovated, and his detestation of vice increased.

'Pamela' is a work of much humbler pretensions than Clarissa Harlowe it is like the Domestic Tragedy' of Lillo compared with 'Lear' or 'Macbeth.' A simple country-girl, whom her master attempts to seduce, and afterwards marries, can be no very dignified heroine. But the excellences of Richardson are strikingly apparent in this his first novel. His power of circumstantial painting is evinced in the multitude of small details which he brings to bear on his story-the very wardrobe of poor 'Pamela,' her gown of sadcoloured stuff, and her round-eared caps-her various attempts at escape, and the conveyance of her letters-the hateful character of Mrs. Jewkes, and the fluctuating passions of her master, before the better part of his nature obtains the ascendency-these are all touched

with the hand of a master. The seductive scenes are too highly col oured for modern taste, and ‘Pamela' is deficient in natural dignity; she is too calculating, too tame and submissive; but while engaged with the tale, we think only of her general innocence and artlessness; of her sad trials and afflictions, down to her last confinement, whea she hid her papers in the rose-bush in the garden, and sat by the side of the pond in utter despair, half-meditating suicide. The elevation of this innocent and lovely young creature to be the bride of her master is an act of justice; but after all, we feel she was too good for him, and wish she had effected her escape, and been afterwards united to some great and wealthy nobleman who had never condescended to oppress the poor and unfortunate. The moral of the tale would also have been improved by some such termination. Esquire B— should have been mortified, and waiting-maids taught not to tolerate liberties from their young masters, because, like Pamela, they may rise to obtain their hand in marriage.

Sir Charles Grandison' is inferior in general interest, as well as truth, to either of Richardson's other novels. The 'good man' and perfect gentleman, perplexed by the love of two ladies whom he regarded with equal affection, is an anomaly in nature with which we cannot sympathise. The hero of Clarissa.' Lovelace, being a splendid and accomplished, a gay and smiling villain, Richardson wished to make Sir Charles in all respects the very opposite: he has given him too little passion and too much perfection for frail humanity. In this novel, however, is one of the most powerful of all our author's delineations--the madness of Clementina. Shakspeare himself has scarcely drawn a more affecting or harrowing picture of highsouled suffering and blighting calamity. The same accumulation of details as in 'Clarisssa,' all tending to heighten the effect and produce the catastrophe, hurry on the reader with breathless anxiety, till he has learned the last sad event, and is plunged in unavailing grief. This is no exaggerated account of the sensations produced by Richardson's pathetic scenes. He is one of the most powerful and tragic of novelists; and that he is so, in spite of much tediousness of description, much repetition and prolixity of narrative, is the best testimony to his art and genius. The extreme length of our author's novels, the epistolatory style in which they are all written, and the number of minute and apparently unimportant circumstances with which they abound, added to the more energetic character of our subsequent literature, have tended to cast Richardson's novels into the shade. Even Lord Byron could not, he said, read Clarissa.' We admit that it requires some resolution to get through a fictitious work of eight volumes; but having once begun, most readers will find it difficult to leave off the perusal of these works. They are eminently original, which is always a powerful recommendation. They shew an intimate acquaintance with the human heart, and an absolute command over the passions; they are, in fact, romances of the heart,

embellished by sentiment, and as such possess a deep and enchaining interest, and a power of exciting virtuous emotions, which blind us to blemishes in style and composition, and to those errors in taste and manners (partly characteristic of the past century) which are more easily ridiculed than avoided in works so voluminous, confined to domestic portraiture.

The elaborate and minute details by which Richardson produces his dramatic scenes and pathetic incidents, render it difficult to make a quotation suited to our space, that shall convey any idea of his peculiar style. We venture, however, on one short extract:

First Appearance of Pamela and her Master in Church after

Marriage.

Yesterday (Sunday) we set out, attended by John, Abraham, Benjamin, and Isaac, in fine new liveries in the best chariot, which had been new cleaned and lined, and new-harnessed; so that it looked like a quite new one. But I had no arms to quarter with my dear lord and master's, though he jocularly, upon my taking notice of my obscurity, said that he had a good mind to have the olive-brauch, which would allude to his hopes, quartered for mine. I was dressed in the suit I mentioned, of white, flowered with silver, and a rich head, and the diamond necklace, car-rings, &c. I also mentioned before. And my dear sir, in a fine laced silk waistcoat, of blue paduasoy, and his coat a pearl-coloured fine cloth with gold buttons and buttonholes, and lined with white silk; and he locked charmingly indeed. I said I was too fine, and would have laid aside some of the jewels: but he said it would be thought a slight to me from him, as his wife; and though, as I apprehended, it might be that people would ta k as it was, yet he had rather they should say anything, than that I was not put upon an equal foot, as his wife, with any lady he might have married.

It seems the neighbouring gentry had expected us, and there was a great congregation. for (against my wish) we were a little of the latest; so hat, as we walked up the church to his seat, we Fad abundance of gazers and whisperers. But my dear master behaved with so intrepid an air, and was so cheerful and complaisant to me, that he did credit to his kind choice, instead of shew ng as if he was ashamed of it; and as I was resolved to busy my mind entirely with the duties of the day, my intentness on that occasion, and my thankfulness to God for his unspeakable mercies to me, so took up my thou ts, that I was much less concerned than I should otherwise have been at the gazings and whisperings of the ladies and gentlemen, as well as the rest of the congregation, whose eyes were all turned to our seat.

Mr.

When the sermon was ended, we staid the longer because the church should be pretty empty; but we found great numbers at the church-doors, and in the church porch; and I had the pleasure of hearing many commendations, as well of my perSon as my dress and behaviour, and not one reflection or mark of disrespect. Martin, who is single, Mr. Chambers, Mr. Arthur, and Mr. Brooks, with their famiLes, were all there; and the four gentlemen came up to us before we went into the chariot, and in a very kind and respec ful manner, complimented us both; and Mrs. Arthur and Mrs. Broo's were so kind as to wish me joy. And Mrs. Brooks said: You sent Mr. Brooks, madam home t' other day quite charmed with a manner which you have convinced a thousand persons this day is natural to you.' 'You do me great honour, madam,' replied I; such a good lady's approbation must make me too sensible of my happiness. My dear master handed me into the chariot, and stood talking with Sir Thomas Atkyns at the door of it (who was making him abundance of compliments, and is a very ceremonious gentlenian, a little too extreme in that way), and I believe to familiarise me to the gazers, which concerned me a little; for I was dashed to hear the praises of the country-people, and to see how they crowded about the chariot. Several poor people begged my charity; and I beckoned John with my fan, and said: Divide in the further church-porch that money to the poor, and let them come to-morrow morning to me, and I will give them something inore if they don't importune me now.' So I gave him all the silver I had, which

happened to be between twenty and thirty shillings; and this drew away from me their clamorous prayers for charity.

Mr. Martin came up to me on the other side of the chariot, and leaned on the very door, while my master was talking to Sir Thomas, from whom he could not get away, and said: By all that 's good, you have charmed the whole congregation. Not a soul but is full of your praises. My neighbour knew, better than anybody could tell him. how to choose for himself. Why," said he, the Dean himself looked more upon you than his book! 'O sir,' said I, you are very encouraging to a weak mind.' I vow,' said he, I say no more than is truth. I'd marry to-morrow, if I was sure of meeting with a person of bu one-half of the merit you have. You are,' continued he- and it is not my way to praise too much-an ornament to your sex, an honour to your sponse, and a credit to religion. Everybody is saying so,' added he, for you have by your piety edified the whole church,'

As he had done speaking, the Dean himself complimented me, that the behaviour of so worthy a lady would be very edifying to his congregation, and encouraging to himself. Sir,' said I, you are very kind: I hope I shall not behave unworthy of the good instructions I shall have the pleasure to receive from so worthy a divine.' He bowed and went on.

Sir Thomas then applied to me, my master stepping into the chariot, and said: I beg pardon, madam, for detaining your good sponse from you. But I have been saying he is the happiest man in the world." I bowed to him; but I could have wished him further, to make me sit so in the notice of every one: which, for all I could do, dashed me not a little.

Mr. Martin said to my master: If you'll come to church every Sunday with your charming lady, I will never absent myself, and she 'll give a good example to all the neighbourhood.' 'O my dear sir,' said I to my master, you know not how much I am obliged to good Mr. Martin: he has by his kind expression made me dare to look up with pleasure and gratitude.' Said my dear master: My dear love, I am very much obliged, as well as you, to my good friend Mr. Martin.' And he said to him: "We will constantly go to church, and to every other place where we can have the pleasure of seeing Mr. Martin.' Mr. Martin said: Gad, sir, you are a happy mat, and I think your lady's example has made you more polite and handsome too, than Í ever knew you before, though we never thought you unpolite neither.' And so he bowed, and went to his own chariot; and as we drove away, the people kindly blessed us, and called us a charming pair.

ROBERT PALTOCK.

Southey has acknowledged that he took the idea of his Glendoveers, those winged celestial agents in the 'Curse of Kehama'

The loveliest race of all of heavenly birth,
Hovering with gentle motion o'er the earth-

from the neglected story of 'Peter Wilkins.' The author of this story was long unknown; but in 1835, at a sale by auction of books and manuscripts which had belonged to Dodsley the publisher, the original agreement for the copyright of the work was found. The writer, it appears, was ROBERT PALTOCK OF PULTOCK of Clement's Inn, Gentleman;' and he had disposed of his tale for £20, with twelve copies of the work, and a set of the first impressions of the engravings that were to accompany it. The tale is dedicated to Elizabeti, Countess of Northumberland-an amiable and accomplished lady, to whom Percy inscribed his Reliques,' and Goldsmith the first printed copy of his Edwin and Angelina.' The dates of the different éditions are 1750, 1751, 1783, 1784. To the countess, Paltock had been indebted for some personal favour- a late instance of benignity;' and it was after the pattern of her virtues, he says, that he drew the mind

of his heroine Youwarkee. Nothing more is known of Paltock. He was most probably a bachelor-a solitary bencher-for had he left descendants, some one of the number would have been proud to claim the relationship. Having delivered his wild and wondrous tale,' to the world, he retired into modest and unbroken obscurity. The title of Paltock's story may serve for an index to its nature and incidents: The Life and Adventures of Peter Wilkins, a Cornish Man: relating particularly his Shipwreck near the South Pole; his wonderful Passage through a subterraneous Cavern into a kind of New_World; his there meeting with a Gawrey, or Flying Woman, whose Life he preserved, and afterwards married her; his extraordinary conveyance to the Country of Glumins and Gawreys, or Men and Women that fly; likewise a description of this strange Country, with the Law, Customs, and Manners of its Inhabitants, and the Author's remarkable Transactions among them: taken from his own mouth on his Passage to England from off Cape Horn in America, in the ship Hector; with an Introduction giving an Account of the Surprising Manner of his coming on Board that Vessel, and his Death on his landing at Plymouth in the year 1739; by R S., a Passenger in the Hector. The initials, R. S.,' may either have been designed to remind the reader of Gulliver's cousin, Richard Sympson-who stands sponsor for the redoubted Captain Lemuel-or inserted by an oversight of the author, who signs his proper initials, R. P., to the dedication and introduction. The name of the hero, and the first conception of the story, would seem to have been suggested by Bishop Wilkin's Discovery of a New World,' in which there are speculations on the possibility of a man being able to fly by the application of wings to his body. Having taken up this idea of a flying human race, Paltock modelled his story on that of Robinson Crusoe,' making his hero a shipwrecked voyager cast upon a solitary shore, of which he was for a time the sole inhabitant. The same virtues of fortitude, resignation, and patient ingenuity are assigned to both, with a depth and purity of religious feeling in the case of Peter Wilkins which was rare at that time in works of fiction. The literal, minute, matter-offact style of Defoe is copied with success; but except in his description of the flying heroine, Paltock is inferior to the old master. least one-half of the tale is felt to be tedious and uninteresting. Its principal charm consists in the lonely situation and adventures of the hero, struggling with misfortunes and cut off from society, and in the original and beautiful conception of the flying woman, who comes, endowed with all feminine graces and tenderness, to share his solitude and affection. When Wilkins describes the flying nation, their family alliances, laws, customs, and mechanical works, the romance disap pears, and we see only a poor imitation of the style or manner of

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He is supposed, however, to be author of another work. Memoirs of the Life of Parnesse, a Spanish Lady, &c. Translaved from the Spanish MS, by R. P. Gent, London, 1751. E. L. v. iv.-9

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