to be decided in the course of events."* The minute style of Richardson is accordingly attended with this peculiar advantage, that as strong a light as can be necessary is thrown on every personage who advances on the scene, and that we have as distinct an idea of the individual and peculiar character of every female in Mrs. Sinclair's family whom it is necessary to name; of the greedy and hypocritical Joseph Leman; of the plausible Captain Singleton, and of Lovelace's other agents, as we have of Lovelace himself. The character of Colonel Morden, for example, although we see so little of him, is quite individual. He is high-spirited, bold, and skilful at his weapon; a man of the world and a man of honour; neither violent enough to precipitate his revenge, nor forbearing enough to avoid grasping it when the fitting opportunity offers. The awe in which he is held by the Harlowes even before his appearance, the respect which Clarissa entertains for him as a natural protector, prepares us for his approach as he enters on the scene, like the Avenger of Blood; too late, indeed, to save Clarissa, but a worthy vindicator of her wrongs, and a no less worthy conqueror of Lovelace. Whatever piety and forbearance there is in his cousin's last charge to such a man as Colonel Morden, we cannot for a moment be either surprised or sorry that it is disobeyed. It must not be overlooked, that, by the circumstantial detail of minute, trivial, and even uninteresting circumstances, the author gives to his fiction an air of reality that can scarcely otherwise be obtained. In every real narrative, he who tells it, dwells upon slight and inconsiderable circumstances, no otherwise interesting than because they are associated in his mind with the more important events which he desires to communicate. De Foe, who understood, and availed himself on all occasions of this mode of garnishing an imaginary history with all the minute accompaniments which distinguish a true one, was scarce a greater master of this peculiar art, than was our author Richardson. Still, with all these advantages, which so peculiarly adapted the mode of carrying on the story by epistolary correspondence to Richardson's peculiar genius, it has its corresponding defects. In order that all may be written, which must be known for the purpose of the narrative, the characters must frequently write, when it would be more natural for them to be acting-must frequently write what it is not natural to write at all-and must at all times write a great deal oftener, and a great deal more, than one would now think human life has time for. But these arguments did not probably weigh much with Richardson, an inveterate letter-writer from his youth upwards, and certainly as indefatigable (we had almost said formidable) a correspondent as any of the characters he has drawn. Richardson was himself aware of the luxuriance of his imagination, and that he was sometimes apt to exceed the patience of the * Life of Richardson, vol. i. p. lxxxii. reader. He indulged his own vein, by writing without any fixed plan, and at great length, which he afterwards curtailed and compressed; so that, strange as it may seem, his compositions were reduced almost one half in point of size before they were committed to the press. In his two first novels, also, he showed much attention to the plot; and though diffuse and prolix in narration, can never be said to be rambling or desultory. No characters are introduced, but for the purpose of advancing the plot; and there are but few of those digressive dialogues and dissertations with which Sir Charles Grandison abounds. The story keeps the direct road, though it moves slowly. But in his last work, the author is much more excursive. There is indeed little in the plot to require attention; the various events, which are successively narrated, being no otherwise connected together, than as they place the character of the hero in some new and peculiar point of view. The same may be said of the numerous and long conversations upon religious and moral topics, which compose so great a part of the work, that a venerable old lady, whom we well knew, when in advanced age she became subject to drowsy fits, chose to hear Sir Charles Grandison read to her as she sat in her elbow-chair, in preference to any other work, "because," said she, "should Í drop asleep in course of the reading, I am sure, when I wake, I shall have lost none of the story, but shall find the party, where I left them, conversing in the cedar-parlour."—It is probable, after all, that the prolixity of Richardson, which, to our giddy-paced times, is the greatest fault of his writing, was not such an objection to his contemporaries. Those who with patience had studied rant and bombast in the folios of Scuderi, could not readily tire of nature, sense, and genius, in the octavos of Richardson. But a modern reader may be permitted to wish that Clarissa had been a good deal abridged at the beginning, and Sir Charles Grandison at the end; that the last two volumes of Pamela had been absolutely cancelled, and the second much compressed. And, upon the whole, it might be desired that many of those trivial details of dresses and decorations, which relish, to say truth, of the mantuamakers' shops, in which Richardson made his first efforts at composition, were altogether abolished, especially where they are put into the letters of sensible persons, or impertinently thrust upon us during the currency of a scene of passion. It requires the recollection of Richardson's highest powers to maintain our respect for him, where he makes Lovelace, amidst all his triumphs at Clarissa's elopement, describe her dress to Belford, from top to toe, with all the professional accuracy of a man-milliner. But it is ungracious to dwell on defects, redeemed by so many excellencies. The style of Richardson was of that pliable and facile kind, which could, with slight variety, be adapted to what best befitted his various personages. When he wrote in his higher characters, it was copious, expressive, and appropriate, but, through the imperfection of his education, not always strictly elegant, or even ac curate. During his life, the common cant as usual was, that he received assistance, which, as a practical admission of personal incompetence to the task they have undertaken, we believe few men of reputed talent would stoop to accept of. It is now known that he wrote his whole works without any such aid, excepting the Ode to Wisdom by Mrs. Carter, or a number of Latin quotations, furnished by a learned friend to bedizen the epistle of Elias Brand. The power of Richardson's painting in his deeper scenes of tragedy, never has been, and probably never will be, excelled. Those of distressed innocence, as in the history of Clarissa and Clementina, rend the very heart; and few, jealous of manly equanimity, should read them for the first time in presence of others. In others, where the same heroines, and particularly Clarissa, display a noble elevation of soul, rising above earthly considerations and earthly oppression, the reader is perhaps as much elevated towards a pure sympathy with virtue and religion, as uninspired composition can raise him. His scenes of unmixed horror, as the deaths of Belton and of the infamous Sinclair, are as dreadful as the former are elevating; and they are directed to the same noble purpose, increasing our fear and hatred of vice, as the former are qualified to augment our love and veneration of virtue. The lighter qualities of the novelist were less proper to this distinguished author than those which are allied to tragedy. Yet, not even in these was Richardson deficient; and his sketches of this kind display the same accurate knowledge of humanity manifested in his higher efforts. His comedy is not overstrained, and never steps beyond the bounds of nature, and he never sacrifices truth and probability to brilliancy of effect. Without what is properly termed wit, the author possessed liveliness and gaiety sufficient to colour those scenes; and though he is never, like his rival Fielding, irresistibly ludicrous, nor indeed ever essays to be so, there is a fund of quaint drollery pervades his lighter sketches, which renders them very agreeable to the reader. With these few preliminary notices, the reader is presented with a complete copy of the Works of an English classic, without which a collection of the present nature must have been deplorably deficient. The change of taste and of fashion may, perhaps, from the causes we have freely stated, have thrown a temporary shade over Richardson's popularity. Or, perhaps, he may, in the present generation, be only paying, by comparative neglect, the price of the very high reputation which he enjoyed during his own age. For if immortality, or any thing approaching to it, is granted to authors and to their works, it seems only to be on the conditions assigned to that of Nourjahad, in the beautiful eastern tale, that they shall be liable to occasional intervals of slumber and comparative oblivion. Yet, under all these disadvantages, the genius of Richardson must be ever acknowledged to have done honour to the lanVOL. VII. No. 38.-Museum. Q guage in which he wrote, and his manly and virtuous application of his talents to the service of morality, and to human nature in general. ABBOTSFORD, January 1st, 1823. SELECTED FOR THE MUSEUM. ECONOMIC FUNERAL SOCIETY. A VERY oddly worded prospectus of an Economic Funeral Society has been circulated during the last month. It informs the public that the projected institution to bury them has been formed, anticipating the most happy results; and assures the world that the heavy expenses on these melancholy occasions have long been deeply lamented, for which position the Society would seem to have classical authority, for does not Juvenal say, -majore domûs gemitu, majore tumultu Planguntur nummi, quàm funera. Nemo dolorem Ploratur lacrymis amissa pecunia veris.—(Sat. xiii. 130.) But here it will behove the society to take an important point into consideration. We have no reason to believe that there is more of lamentation than is decent and proper at funerals, and if those "heavy expenses" which have long been "deeply lamented" are saved to the mourners, we must necessarily expect a consequent falling off of genuine grief on these occasions, a good part of the melancholy of which will, according to the showing of the company, be done away with by the reduction of the charges. Has the society considered this? and is it prepared to supply the deficiency of regret which it will thus cause? and by what means does it propose to make up the usual and becoming portion of sorrow? The prospectus tells us, that the profits of shareholders will be fifteen per cent. "arising from circumstances" (i. e. funerals) "with which the public will be well satisfied." How is this? Who are they going to bury? Who are the persons whose inhumation will give satisfaction to the public? Name, name, as they cry in the House of Commons. A list of these personages whom the public will be "well satisfied" to see put under ground, at a profit of fifteen per cent., to the society, might give popularity to the scheme. We cannot conclude without drawing attention to the amiable disinterestedness of the parish clerks, who, from the pure passion of burying folks in a desirable manner, have cheerfully given up their own private business to become agents for the society. ECONOMIC FUNERAL SOCIETY.-Capital 150,000l. in 6000 Shares of 251. each. every class. There will be a scale of prices, whereby the Society itself will be prevented from taking advantage of public approbation; and each individual may ascertain, when giving instructions for a funeral, the amount of the debt about to be incurred. Considered as a protecting compact, whereby the subscribers can secure themselves, their friends, and dependants, from unreasonable and extravagant charges, the concern must be extensive; but when regarded as the means of saving to the community, in almost every case, one third and even half compared to the present prices, there can be no doubt of its success. Long have the heavy expenses on these melancholy occasions been severely felt and deeply lamented, and no other way presented itself to the Committee of correcting the evil but the present measure; namely, that of forming an Association, which, by its respectability, would overcome vulgar prejudices. The foundation of the Society has been long laid, and the Company have at command Funeral Carriages, Horses, Feathers, &c. &c. and many Parish Clerks have consented to give up their private business, and become Agents for this Society. The Profits to Shareholders are calculated at 15 per Cent. per Annum, arising from circumstances with which the Public will be well satisfied. The amount expended upon Funerals annually in London, amounts by the calcu lation to nearly two millions of money. A Deposit of 21. per share will be required to be paid immediately after the allotment of the Shares. Prospectusses may be had of the Solicitor, Mr. James Carden, jun. 35, Abchurchlane, Lombard-street; where, and at the Bankers, Sir Walter Stirling, Stirling, and Hodsoll, Strand, applications for Shares (post-paid) may be addressed. Parish Clerks, Sextons, and others, who have hitherto acted as Undertakers, as well as those who are accustomed to the business of an Undertaker in any of its branches, and who may be desirous of being connected with the above Society, as well as all other persons who have been in the habit of supplying, at wholesale prices, the various articles required in Funeral Ceremonies, may apply by letter, post-paid, directed to the Solicitor, as above, it being the intention of the Directors to distribute the business as much as possible throughout each district. Lond. Mag. SELECTED FOR THE MUSEUM. Sydney Papers, consisting of a Journal of the Earl of Leicester, and Original Letters of Algernon Sydney. Edited, with Notes, by R. W. Blencowe, A.M. 8vo. pp. 284. London, 1825. J. Murray. We have so often professed our regard for publications of this description as the true lights of history, that it would be superfluous to repeat such sentiments. Penshurst, the ancient seat of the Earls of Leicester, had already furnished materials of very considerable interest; and Collins' valuable Collection of the Sydney Papers is well known to the reading world. It seems, however, that even at Penshurst, some gleanings were left to reward the industry of the present editor; and from these, as well as from other documents, preserved by Mr. Lambard at Sevenoaks, this volume has been compiled. It appears a similar plan was established in 1809 for the whole city of Paris, and which continues unaltered. "These Letters," it is stated in the preface, "were given to Mr. Lambard by his sister, who received them from her friend, Lady Smythe, the widow of the Chief Baron of the Exchequer. Mr. Smythe, the lineal ancestor of the Chief Baron, married Lady Sunderland, the sister of Algernon Sydney, and the widow of Lord Sunderland, who fell at the battle of Newbury; by her it is probable they |