་ No less than eleven affecting deaths in two years! My nerves were so affected with these repeated blows, that I have been forced, after trying the whole materia medica, and consulting many physicians, as the only palliative (not a remedy to be ex'pected) to go into a regimen; and, for seven years past have I ⚫ forborne wine and flesh and fish; and, at this time, I and all my family are in mourning for a good sister, with whom neither I would have parted, could I have had my choice. From these affecting dispensations, will you not allow me, madam, to remind an unthinking world, immersed in pleasures, what a life this is that they are so fond of, and to arm them against the affecting changes of it? "Severely tried as he was, he had yet great comfort in his family; his daughters grew up under his tuition, amiable and worthy; they were carefully educated, and engaged his fondest affections. It is remarkable that his daughter Anne, whose early ill-health had often excited his apprehensions, was the last survivor of the family. They were all much employed in writing for him, and transcribing his letters; but his chief amanu ensis was his daughter Martha. "In addition to his other business, Mr. Richardson purchased, in 1760, a moiety of the patent of law printer to his majesty, which department of his business he car ried on in partnership with miss Catherine Lintot. From all these sources he was enabled to make that comfortable provision for a rising family, which patient industry judiciously directed, will, generally, in this country enable a man to procure. "He now had leisure, had he had health, to enjoy his reputation, his prosperous circumstances, his children, and his friends: but, alas! leisure purchased by severe application often comes too late to be enjoyed; and in a worldly, as well as in a religious sense, Secker, and author of some much esteemed devotional pieces; miss Prescott, afterwards Mrs. Mulso; miss Fieldings; and miss Colliers, resided occasionally with him. He was accustomed to give the young ladies he esteemed the endearing appellation of his daughters. He used to write in a little summerhouse, or grotto, as it was called, within his garden, before the family were up; and, when they met at breakfast, he communicated the progress of his story, which, by that means, had every day a fresh and lively interest. Then began the criticisms, the pleadings, for Harriet Byron or Clementina; every turn and every incident was eagerly canvassed, and the author enjoyed the benefit of knowing be fore-hand how his situations would strike. Their own little partialities and entanglements, too, were developed, and became the subject of grave advice, or lively raillery. Mrs. Duncombe thus mentions the agreeable scene, in a letter to Mrs. Mulso. "I shall often, in idea, enjoy again the hours that we have so agreeably spent in the delightful • retirement of North End: For while this pleasing subject I pursue, The grot, the garden, rush upon my view; There in blest union, round the friendly gate, Instruction, peace, and chearful freedom wait; And there, a choir of list'ning nymphs appears Oppress'd with wonder, or dissolved in tears: But on her tender fears when Harriet dwells, And love's soft symptoms innocently tells, They all, with conscious smiles, those symptons view, And by those conscious smiles confess them true.' to mental improvement in women, though under all those restrictions which modesty and decorum have imposed upon the sex. Indeed, his sentiments seem to have been more favourable to female literature, be fore than after his intercourse with the fashionable world; for Clarissa has been taught Latin, but miss Byron is made to say, that she does not even know which are meant by the learned languages, and to declare, that a woman who knows them is an owl among the birds. The prejudice against any appear ance of extraordinary cultivation in women, was, at that period, very strong. It will scarcely be believed, by this generation, that Mrs. Delany, the accomplished Mrs. Delany, objects to the words intellect and ethics, in one of the conversation pieces, in Grandison, as too scholastic to proceed from the mouth of a female. What would some of these critics have said, could they have heard young la dies talking of gases, and nitrous oxyd, and stimuli, and excitability, and all the terms of modern science! The restraint of former times was painful and humiliating; what can be more humiliating than the necessity of affecting ignorance? and yet, perhaps, it is not undesirable that female genius should, have something to overcome; so much, as to render it probable, before a woman steps out of the common walks of life, that her acquirements are solid, and her love for literature decided and irresistible. These obstacles did not prevent the Epictetus of Mrs. Carter, nor the volumes of Mrs. Chapone, from being written and given to the world. "The moral qualities of Richardson were crowned with a serious "Mr. Richardson was a friend and warm regard for religion; it .D 2 is ་ is conspicuous in all his works; and wit without vanity; and thought we shall, probably, not find any myself transported to an enchantwritings of the class of novels, ined land. After chocolate, Mr. which virtue and piety are SO • Richardson brought us into the strongly and uniformly recom-garden, adjoining to the house. mended, without any party spirit, He invited me to partake of its or view to recommend a particular fruits, of which the trees afforded system; and it would be doing in the finest of their kind; and, justice to the taste of the world not perceiving that I hesitated, gato say that they were highly valued thered some himself, which he on that account. The house of presented to me. Every thing I Richardson was a school of vir- saw, every thing I tasted, retuous sentiment and good morals. called to me the idea of the The following letter, from Mr. golden age. Here are to be seen Reich, of Leipsic, shews the no counterfeits, such as are the pleasing impression a visit to him offspring of vanity, and the de-. made on the lively feelings of a light of fools. A noble simplicity foreigner. reigns throughout, and elevates the soul. The harmony of this charming family furnished me with many reflections on the common ill-judged methods of education, whence springs the source either of our happiness or misery, The ladies affected not that stiff preciseness peculiar to coquettes. Trained up by a parent who instructs them still more by his example than by his works, they strive to imitate him; and, if you feel a tenderness for objects sa lovely, you will surely be sensible of a still greater respect for them. "In the middle of the garden, over against the house, we came to a kind of grotto, where we • rested ourselves. It was on this seat, Mr. Le Fevre (Mr. Richardson's friend) told me, that ་ 6 "You know, sir, I set out for England purely with a view of cultivating a personal acquaintance with so great a man as Mr. Samuel Richardson, who had so long endeared himself to me by his works, and who, afterwards, by the correspondence established between us, granted me his friendship. I arrived at London the eighth of August, and had not much difficulty in finding Mr. Richardson in this great city. He gave me a reception worthy of the author of Pamela, Clarissa, and Grandison; that is, with the same heart which appears throughout his works. His person, his family, and even his domestics, all an'swer this character. He carried ⚫ me into his library, and his print-Pamela, Clarissa, and Grandison, ing-house, (for he is a printer,) received their birth; I kissed the in both which I never saw things ink-horn on the side of it. We ⚫ so well disposed. Sunday follow-afterwards proceeded to table, ing, I was with him at his coun- (dinner) where an opportunity try-house, (Selby-house) where was offered me of reading the his family was, with some ladies, letters written to me by Malle. acquaintances of his four daugh-Sack, from Berlin, concerning ters, who, with his lady, com " pose his family. It was there I saw beauties without affectation; ⚫teristic of that lady; and every one listened with the closest attention to whatever truth obliged me to say concerning her. Whereupon Mr. Richardson ob'served to me, that the ladies in company were all his adopted daughters: that he should be very proud to give to them, as well as to his own, so charming a sister; and desired to signify as 'much to her, and to send her his picture, which he gave me for that purpose. The rest of our discourse turned on the merits of Mr. Gellert, and of some other Germans of distinction. I told him, we had the same reason to glory in our relationship, as countrymen of these worthy gentle. men, as the English had in regard to him. Mr. Richardson's usual modesty dictated his answer. Towards evening he brought me to London, where he made me promise to come and see him as often as I could. On the Sunday following I was with him again at his pleasant country seat. We ⚫ found there a large company, all 'people of merit; Mr. Miller, author of the Gardener's Dictionary, (which has been translated at Nurnburg, with such success,) and Mr. Highmore, the famous painter, were there. This last, two days afterwards, conferred on me a genteel piece of civility, which I shall never forget: he must, indeed, be the accomplished gentleman he appears to be, by obliging with so good a grace. I was extremely concerned on not seeing his only daughter, who was in the country. I have read some of her letters, which excite in me the highest esteem both for her understanding and her heart. In the evening I took my leave of the family, and returned with "Richardson was, in person, below the middle stature, and inclined to corpulency; of a round, rather than oval, face, with a fair ruddy complexion. His features, says one, who speaks from recollection, bore the stamp of good nature, and were characteristic of his placid and amiable disposition. He was slow in speech, and, to strangers at least, spoke with reserve and deliberation; but, in his manners, was affable, courteous, and engaging; and when surrounded with the social circle he loved to draw around him, his eye sparkled with pleasure, and often expressed that particular spirit of archness which we see in some of his characters, and which gave, at times, a vivacity to his conversation, not expected from his general taciturnity and quiet manners. He has left us a characteristic portrait of himself, in a letter to lady Bradshaigh, written when he was in his sixtieth year, before they had seen one another. She was to find him out by it (as she actually did,) as he walked in the park. rather plump, about five feet five inches, fair wig, one hand generally in his bosom, the other a cane in it, which he leans upon under the skirts of his coat, that it may imperceptibly serve him as a support, when attacked by 'sudden tremors or dizziness, of a light brown complexion, teeth not yet failing him. What follows 6 6 • Short, ་ is very descriptive of the struggle in his character between innate bashfulness and a turn for observation. Looking directly foreright, as passengers would imagine, but observing all that stirs on either hand of him, without moving his short neck; a regular even pace, stealing away ground < rather than seeming to rid it; a 'grey eye, too often overclouded by mistiness from the head, by chance lively, very lively if he sees any he loves; if he approaches a lady, his eye is never fixed first on her face, but on her feet, and rears it up by degrees, seeming to set her down as so or so.' "The health of Richardson was grievously affected by those disorders which pass under the denomination of nervous, and are the usual consequence of bad air, confinement, sedentary employment, and the wear and tear of the mental faculties. It is astonishing how a man who had to raise his fortune by the slow process of his own in, dustry, to take care of an extensive business, to educate his own family, and to be a father to many of his relations, could find time in the breaks and pauses of his other avocations, for works so consider able in size as well as in merit, nineteen close printed volumes,' as he oftens mentions, when insisting upon it, in answer to the instances of his correspondents, that he would write more, that he had already written more than enough. Where there exists strong genius, the bent of the mind is imperious, and will be obeyed: bu the body too often sinks under it. I had originally,' says he, a good constitution; I hurt it by no intemperance, but that of application." "Richardson scarcely writes a letter without mentioning these nervous or paralytic tremors, which indeed are very observable in those letters written with his own hand, and which obliged him often to employ the hand of another. Yet his writing, to the last, was small, even, and very legible. Though a strong advocate for public wor ship, he had discontinued for many years going to church, on account, as he tells lady B. of his not being able to bear a crowd. It is probable, however, that he also wanted the relaxation of a Sunday spent in the country. He took tar-water, then very much in vogue, and lived for seven years upon a vege table diet; but his best remedy was probably his country house, and the amusement of Tunbridge, which he was accustomed to frequent in the season. He never could ride, being, as he declares, quite a cockney, but used a chamber horse, one of which he kept at each of his houses. His nervous maladies notwithstanding increased, and for years before his death he could not lift the quantity of a small glass of wine to his mouth, though put into a tumbler, without assistance. He loved to complain; but who that suffers from disorders that affect the very springs of life and happiness, does not? Who does not wish for the friendly soothings of sympathy, under maladies from which more material relief is not to be expected? That sympathy was feelingly expressed by Mrs. Chapone, in her Ode to Health, in the following apostrophe: Hast thou not left a Richardson unblest? He woos thee still in vain, relentless maid. 4 Tho' skill'd in sweetest accents to persuade, And wake soft pity in the savage breast; Him virtue loves, and brightest fame is his : Smile thou too, goddess, and complete his bliss' |