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Although the turbid stream was not altogether infiltrated by its passage through Law's clear and logical intellect, yet he sifted out much of the dregs, while he remained in firm possession of the treasure. To many of his contemporaries it seemed as though he had ruined himself as a divine. They turned with aversion from the too often frequent remains of Behmen's strange jargon. But as soon as it has escaped from this the stream is clear and pure. In the opinion, not indeed of all, but of many competent judges, Law gains far more than he loses by his studies, both of the mystical theology in general, and in particular of Behmen.-ABBEY, CHARLES J., 1887, The English Church and Its Bishops, 1700-1800, vol. I, p. 294. Among all the divines, the one who wrote most vigorously is perhaps that very ingenious and powerful Tertullian of the dissenters, William Law.-GOSSE, EDMUND, 1888, A History of Eighteenth Century Literature, p. 396.

The logical power shown in Law's controversial writings surpasses that of any contemporary author, unless Bentley be an exception. His assaults upon Hoadly, Mandeville, and Tindal could only have failed to place him in the front rank because they diverged too far from the popular theories. He was the most thoroughgoing opponent of the dominant rationalism of which Locke was the great exponent, and which, in his view, could lead only to infidelity. He takes the ground (see especially his answer to Tindal) of the impotence of human reason, and some points anticipates Butler's "Apology."-STEPHEN, LESLIE, 1892, Dictionary of National Biography, vol. XXXII, p. 239.

Sombre and yet eloquent; instinct with feelings; at once severe and grim in his earnestness, and copious in the range of his imagination.-CRAIK, HENRY, 1895, ed., English Prose, Introduction, vol. IV, p.5.

Masters of English Prose are not so plentiful that we can afford to allow one who stands in the very first rank to slip into oblivion. And it would be difficult to find many who combine as Law does so much vigour and raciness of thought and diction, so pure and luminous a style, such brilliant, if somewhat grim, humour, such pungent sarcasm, such powers of reasoning. There is, indeed, a stern severity

about the writer which is very characteristic of the man; but it is equally characteristic that amid this sternness he sometimes breaks out into passages of sweet tenderness, which are all the more touching from their contrast with the ruggedness of their surroundings. . . . He never loses sight of his subject, and, granting his premises, it is impossible to put a pin's point between his deductions from them. He is, moreover, a singularly equal writer, unlike the good Homer, he never nods, never descends below himself. One might take passages almost at random, and yet convey as favourable an impression of him, as by carefully selecting specimens which shew him at his best. -OVERTON, JOHN HENRY, 1895, English Prose, ed. Craik, vol. IV, pp. 42, 43.

Law represents, moreover, the best type of pamphleteer that religious controversy has produced. A Latitudinarian himself in a higher sense of that ill-used word, he had the deepest sympathy with those who were outside his communion, saying once that he would like the truth no less because Ignatius Loyola, or John Bunyan, or George Fox were very zealous for it. Who else could have written such words at that time? Or who else could have said in an age, when controversy was still deformed by virulent personalities, that "by the grace of God he would never have any personal contention with anyone?" To those words he kept faithful in the face of great provocation, and therefore he deserves a place of peculiar honour in the strangely assorted crowd of pamphleteers.-DEARMER, PERCY, 1898, ed., Religious Pamphlets, Introduction, p.39.

In the goodly succession of the masters of the eighteenth-century style, William Law has an indisputable place, and one could almost wish at times that his theme had not been religion, so that his power as a writer might have been recognised. If he had bantered and satirised and handled the lacrima rerum, as he was very well able to do, in papers like the Spectator, the Tatler and the Rambler, his place in literature would not have been doubtful. But because he was occupied with religion, counted man as an immortal soul, and used his powers to promote the eternal welfare of men, he is left among the preachers and that dull kind of creature, instead of being ranked among

the wits and men of letters. If we mark the eighteenth-century style as in its golden age with Steele and Addison, Pope and Swift, and if we admit it overripe in Gibbon and Dr. Johnson, there is a silver, or a mellow, period which reaches to the middle of the century. Fielding is the most famous reputation of this silver age; Berkeley is the most gifted writer; but

William Law is its consummate representative. In him the seriousness and humor of the essayists still blend; in him the weight and stateliness of Burke and Gibbon are already perceptible; and Johnson's gravity, though not his ponderousness, is the ballast of the style.-HORTON, ROBERT F., 1899, Among My Books, Literature, vol. 5, p. 221.

Samuel Richardson

1689-1761

Samuel Richardson, 1689-1761. Born, in Derbyshire, 1689. Apprenticed to a stationer, 1706. Afterwards employed as compositor at a printing works. Set up as a printer on his own account, 1719. Married (i.) Martha Wilde. She died, 25 Jan. 1731. Married (ii.) Elizabeth Leake. Began novel writing, 1739. Master of Stationers' Company, 1754. Died, in London, 4 July 1761. Buried in St. Bride's Church. Works: "Pamela" (anon.), 1741-42; "Clarissa"" (anon.), 1748; "The History of Sir Charles Grandison" (anon.), 1754 (2nd edn. same year). Posthumous: "Correspondence," ed. by A. L. Barbauld (6 vols.), 1804. He edited: "A Tour thro' at Great Britain,"1742; Sir T. Roe's "Negotiations in his Embassy to the Ottoman Porte," 1746; "The Life of Balbe Berton" [1760?]. Collected Works: ed. by E. Mangin (19 vols.), 1811; ed. by Leslie Stephen (12 vols.), 1883.— -SHARP, R. FARQUHARSON, 1897, A Dictionary of English Authors, p. 239.

PERSONAL

As I had never formed any great idea of a printer by those I have seen in Ireland, I was very negligent of my dress, any more than making myself clean; but was extremely surprised when I was directed to a house of very grand outward appearance, and had it been a palace, the beneficent master deserved it. I met a very civil reception from him, and he not only made me breakfast, but also dine with him and his agreeable wife and children. After dinner he called me into his study and showed me an order he had received to pay me twelve guineas, which he immediately took out of his escritoire and put into my hand; but when I went to tell them over, I found that I had fourteen, and, supposing the gentleman had made a mistake, I was for returning two of them, but he with a sweetness and modesty almost peculiar to himself, said he hoped I would not take it ill, that he had presumed to add a trifle to the bounty of my friend. I really was confounded till recollecting that I had read “Pamela," and been told it was written by one Mr. Richardson, I asked him whether he was not the author of it. He said he was the editor: I told him my surprise was now over, as I found he had only given to the incomparable "Pamela"

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the virtues of his own worthy heart.-PILKINGTON, LETITIA, 1748, Memoirs, vol. II.

Short; rather plump than emaciated, notwithstanding his complaints; about five foot five inches; fair wig; lightish cloth coat, all black besides; one hand generally in his bosom, the other a cane in it, which he leans upon under the skirts of his coat usually, that it may imperceptibly serve him as a support, when attacked by sudden tremors or startings, and dizziness, which too frequently attack him, but, thank God, not so often as formerly; looking directly foreright, as passers-by would imagine, but observing all that stirs on either hand of him without moving his short neck; hardly ever turning back; of a light-brown complexion; teeth not yet failing him; smoothish faced, and ruddycheeked ; a grey eye, too often overclouded by mistinesses from the head; by chance lively; very lively it will be, if he have hope of seeing a lady whom he loves and honours; his eye always on the ladies.-RICHARDSON, SAMUEL, 1749, Letter to Mrs. Belfour.

Poor Mr. Richardson was seized on Sunday evening with a most severe paralytic stroke. How many good hearts will be afflicted by this in many more countries than England! To how many will he be an inexpressible loss! But to

consider him at present as lost to himself and perhaps with some sense of that loss is most grievous. It sits pleasantly upon my mind that the last morning we spent together was particularly friendly and quiet and comforting. It was the twentyeighth of May he looked then so well! One has long apprehended some stroke of this kind; the disease made its gradual approaches by that heaviness which clouded the cheerfulness of his conversation, that used to be so lively and so instructive; by the increased tremblings which unfitted that hand so peculiarly formed to guide the pen; and by perhaps the querulousness of temper most certainly not natural to so sweet and so enlarged a mind, which you and I have lately lamented as making his family at times not so comfortable as his principles, his study and his delight to diffuse happiness wherever he could, would otherwise have done. Well, his noble spirit will soon now I suppose be freed from its corporeal encumbrance; it were a sin to wish against it, and yet how few such will be left behind. TALBOT, MISS, 1761, Letter to Mrs. Carter, Correspondence, vol. II, p. 209. If ever warm benevolence was dear, If ever wisdom gained esteem sincere, Or genuine fancy deep attention won Approach with awe the dust--of Richardson. What though his muse, through distant regions known,

Might scorn the tribute of this humble stone;
Yet pleasing to his gentle shade, must prove
The meanest pledge of Friendship, and of
Love;

For oft will these, from venal throngs exiled,
And oft will Innocence, of aspect mild,
And white-robed Charity, with streaming

eyes,

Frequent the cloister where their patron lies. This, reader, learn; and learn from one

whose woe

Bids her wild verse in artless accents flow: For, could she frame her numbers to commend

The husband, father, citizen, and friend;
How would her muse display, in equal strain,
The critic's judgment, and the writer's vein!
Ah, no, expect not from the chiselled stone
The praises, graven on our hearts alone.
There shall his fame a lasting shrine acquire;
And ever shall his moving page inspire
Pure truth, fixt honour, virtue's pleasing lore;
While taste and science crown this favoured
shore.

-CARTER, ELIZABETH, 1761, Epitaph on
Richardson.

At Mr. Nairne's, he drew the character of Richardson, the authour of "Clarissa," with a strong yet delicate pencil. I lament much that I have not preserved it; I only remember that he expressed a high opinion of his talents and virtues; but observed, that "his perpetual study was to ward off petty inconveniences, and procure petty pleasures; that his love of continual superiority was such, that he took care to be always surrounded by women, who listened to him implicitly, and did not venture to controvert his opinions; and that his desire of distinction was so great, that he used to give large vails to the Speaker Onslow's servants, that they might treat him with respect."-JOHNSON, SAMUEL, 1773, Life by Boswell, Nov. 11-20, ed. Hill, vol. v, p. 451.

A literary lady has favoured me with a characteristick anecdote of Richardson. One day at his country-house at Northend, where a large company was assembled at dinner, a gentleman who was just returned from Paris, willing to please Mr. Richardson, mentioned to him a very flattering circumstance, that he had seen his "Clarissa" lying on the King's brother's table. Richardson observing that part of the company were engaged in talking to each other, affected then not to attend to it. But by and by, when there was a general silence, and he thought that the flattery might be fully heard, he addressed himself to the gentleman, "I think, Sir, you were saying something about,-" pausing in a high flutter of expectation. The gentleman provoked at his inordinate vanity, resolved not to indulge it, and with an exquisite sly air of indifference answered, "A mere trifle, Sir, not worth repeating!" The mortification of Richardson was visible, and he did not speak ten words more the whole day. Dr. Johnson was present, and appeared to enjoy it much.-BOSWELL, JAMES, 1780, Life of Samuel Johnson, ed. Hill, vol. IV, p. 34, note.

Richardson's conversation was of the preceptive kind, but it wanted the diversity of Johnson's, and had no intermixture of wit or humour. Richardson could never relate a pleasant story, and hardly relish one told by another: he was ever thinking of his own writings, and listening to the praises which, with an emulous profusion, his friends were incessantly bestowing on

He was

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them, he would scarce enter into free conversation with any one that he thought .had not red "Clarissa," or "Sir Charles Grandison," and at best, he could not be said to be a companionable man. Those Those who were unacquainted with Richardson, and had red his books, were led to believe, that they exhibited picture of his own mind, and that his temper and domestic behaviour could not but correspond with that refined morality which they inculcate, but in this they were deceived. austere in the government of his family, and issued his orders to some of his servants in writing only. His nearest female relations, in the presence of strangers, were mutes, and seemed to me, in a visit I once made him, to have been disciplined in the school of Ben Jonson's Morose, whose injunction to his servant was, "Answer me not but with your leg.' In short, they appeared to have been taught to converse with him by signs; and it was too plain to me, that on his part, the most frequent of them were frowns and gesticulations, importing that they should leave his presence. I have heard it said, that he was what is called a nervous man; and how far nervosity, with so good an understanding as he is allowed to have possessed, will excuse a conduct so opposite to that philanthrophy which he laboured to inculcate, I cannot say: his benevolence might have taken another direction, and in other instances be very strong; for I was once a witness to his putting into the hand of Mr. Whiston the bookseller, ten guineas for the relief of one whom a sudden accident had made a widow.-HAWKINS, SIR JOHN, 1787, Life of Samuel Johnson, p. 384.

He was delighted by his own works. No author enjoyed so much the bliss of excessive fondness. I heard from the late Charlotte Lenox the anecdote which so severely reprimanded his innocent vanity, which Boswell has recorded. This lady was a regular visitor at Richardson's house, and she could scarcely recollect one visit which was not taxed by our author reading one of his voluminous letters, or two or three, if his auditor was quiet and friendly.-DISRAELI, ISAAC, 1791-1824, Richardson, Curiosities of Lit

erature.

Richardson, the author of "Clarissa," had been a common printer, and possessed

no literature whatever. He was very silent in company, and so vain that he never enjoyed any subject but that of himself or his works. He once asked Douglas, Bishop of Salisbury, how he liked "Clarissa." The bishop said he could never get beyond the Bailiff scene. The author, thinking this a condemnation of his book, looked grave; but all was right when the bishop added, it affected him so much that he was drowned in tears, and could not trust himself with the book any longer. Richardson had a kind of club of women about him-Mrs. Carter, Mrs. Talbot, &c.-who looked up to him as to a superior being; to whom he dictated and gave laws; and with whom he lived almost entirely. To acquire a facility of epistolary writing he would on every trivial occasion write notes to his daughters even when they were in the same house with him.-(Bishop Douglas and Dr. Johnson).-MALONE, EDMOND, 1792, Maloniana, ed. Prior, p. 439.

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.-BARBAULD, ANNA LETITIA, 1804, ed. The Correspondence of Samuel Richardson, Life vol. 1, p. clxxvi.

His moral character was in the highest degree exemplary and amiable. He was temperate, industrious, and upright; punctual and honourable in all his dealings; and with a kindness of heart, and a liberality and generosity of disposition, that must have made him a very general favourite, even if he had never acquired any literary distinction.-He had a considerable share of vanity, and was observed to talk more willingly on the subject of his own

works than on any other. The lowness of his original situation, and the lateness of his introduction into polite society, had given to his manners a great shyness and reserve; and a consciousness of his awkwardness and his merit together, rendered him somewhat jealous in his intercourse with persons in more conspicuous situations, and made him require more courting and attention than every one was disposed to pay. He had high notions of parental authority, and does not seem always quite satisfied with the share of veneration which his wife could be prevailed on to shew for him. He was particularly partial to the society of females; and lived, indeed, as Mrs. Barbauld has expressed it, in a flower-garden of ladies. -JEFFREY, FRANCIS LORD, 1804, Richardson, Edinburgh Review, vol. 5, p. 31.

He was unceasingly industrious; led astray by no idle views of speculation, and seduced by no temptations to premature expenditure. Industry brought independence, and, finally, wealth in its train; and that well-won fortune was husbanded with prudence, and expended with liberality. A kind and generous master, he was eager to encourage his servants to persevere in the same course of patient labour by which he had himself attained fortune; and it is said to have been his common practice to hide half-a-crown among the types, that it might reward the diligence of the workman who should first be in the office in the morning. His hospitality was of the most liberal, as well as the most judicious kind. The pre

dominant failing of Richardson seems certainly to have been vanity; vanity naturally excited by his great and unparalleled popularity at home and abroad, and by the continual and concentred admiration of the circle in which he lived. Such a weakness finds root in the mind of every one who has obtained general applause, but Richardson, the gentleness of whose mind was almost feminine, was peculiarly susceptible of this feminine weakness, and he fostered and indulged its growth, which a man of firmer character would have crushed and restrained.-SCOTT, SIR WALTER, 1821, Samuel Richardson.

His own manners were strict and formal with regard to his family, probably because he had formed his notions of life from old books, and also because he did

not well know how to begin to do otherwise (for he was naturally bashful), and so the habit continued through life. His daughters addressed him in their letters by the title of "Honoured Sir," and are always designating themselves as "ever dutiful." Sedentary living, eternal writing, and perhaps that indulgence in the table, which, however moderate, affects a sedentary man twenty times as much as an active one, conspired to hurt his temper (for we may see by his picture that he grew fat, and his philosophy was in no respect as profound as he thought it); but he was a most kind-hearted generous man; kept his pocket full of plums for children, like another Mr. Burchell; gave a great deal of money away in charity, very handsomely too; and was so fond of inviting friends to stay with him, that when they were ill, he and his family must needs have them to be nursed.-HUNT, LEIGH, 1848, The Town, p. 90.

The great author was accustomed to be adored. A gentler wind never puffed mortal vanity. Enraptured spinsters flung tea-leaves around him, and incensed him with the coffee-pot. Matrons kissed the slippers they had worked for him. There was a halo of virtue around his nightcap. All Europe had thrilled, panted, admired, trembled, wept o'er the pages of the immortal little kind honest man with the round paunch. Harry came back quite glowing and proud at having a bow from him. "Ah," says he, "my lord, I am glad to have seen him!"-THACKERAY, WILLIAM MAKEPEACE, 1858, The Virginians, ch. xxvi.

Good Samuel Richardson-for you really were a good man, in a higher sense to your mind than your own "Sir Charles Grandison"-forgive me if I cannot forbear a smile now and then at your little vanities, so inseparable from the adulation of your "ladies" of every degree, from the precise Mrs. Chapone to the erring Mrs. Pilkington; for men of various morals, from Dr. Young to Colley Cibber. You are, perhaps, amongst the most famous of those who have been writers as well as publishers; but you command my admiration from the fact that you never neglected the duties of your station to surrender yourself to the temptation that beset the man who depends upon authorship alone for holding a firm standing

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