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his sermons draws from him the following art Richardson is undoubtedly without an amusing piece of fretfulness.

equal, and, if we excep! De Foe, without a “ Johnston kept them a month on the way;

competitor, we believe, in the whole history Wilson kept them three, and does nothing, only of literature. We are often fatigued, as we hints a sort of contemptuous censure of them to you, listen to his prolix descriptions, and the repetiand huffs them out of his hands. The booksellers tions of those rambling and inconclusive condespise them, and I am forced to print them, when versations, in which so many pages are conthe season for sale is over, or burn them. God's sumed, without any apparent progress in the or his religion, my work would long ago have been story; but, by means of all this, we get so bought, and reprinted, and bought again. Millar intimately acquainted with the characters, would have now been far advanced in his third and so impressed with a persuasion of their edition of it! But why do I make these weak com- reality, that when any thing really disastrous plainis? I know my work is calculated to serve or important occurs to them, we feel as for old the cause of God and truth, and by no means con friends and companions, and are irresistibly lempiibly executed. I am confident also, I shall, if God spares me life to give it the necessary intro led to as lively a conception of their sensa. duction, sell it to advantage, and receive the thanks tions, as if we had been spectators of a real of every good man for it. I will therefore be in the transaction. This we certainly think the chief hands of God, and not of Mr. Millar, whose indif. merit of Richardson's productions: For, great ference to my performances invite me not 10 any as his knowledge of the human heart, and his uvertures."'--Vol. v. p. 234, 235.

powers of pathetic description, must be adAlthough Richardson is not responsible for mitted to be, we are of opinion that he might more than one fifth part of the dulness ex- have been equalled in those particulars by hibited in this collection, still the share of it many, whose productions are infinitely less that may be justly imputed to him is so con interesting. siderable, and the whole is so closely asso- That his pieces were all intended to be ciated with his name, that it would be a sort strictly moral, is indisputable; but it is not of injustice to take our final leave of his works, quite so clear, that they will uniformly be without casting one glance back to those orig- found to have this tendency. We have inal and meritorious performances, upon already quoted some observations of Mrs. which his reputation is so firmly established. Barbauld's on this subject, and shall only add,

The great excellence of Richardson's novels in general, that there is a certain air of irkconsists, we think, in the unparalleled minute, some regularity, gloominess, and pedantry, ness and copiousness of his descriptions, and attached to most of his virtuous characters in the pains he takes to make us thoroughly which is apt to encourage more unfortunate and intimately acquainted with every particu- associations than the engaging qualities with lar in the character and situation of the per- which he has invested some of his vicious sonages with whom we are occupied. It has ones. The mansion of the Harlowes, which, been the policy of other writers to avoid all before the appearance of Lovelace, is repredetails that are not necessary or impressive, to sented as the abode of domestic felicity, is a hurry over all the preparatory scenes, and to place in which daylight can scarcely be supreserve the whole of the reader's attention for posed to shine; and Clarissa, with her formal those momentous passages in which some de- devotions, her intolerably early rising, her cisive measure is adopted, or some great day divided into tasks, and her quantities of passion brought into action. The consequence needle-work and discretion, has something in is, that we are only acquainted with their her much less winning and attractive than incharacters in their dress of ceremony, and ferior artists have often communicated to an that, as we never see them except in those innocent beauty of seventeen. The solemcritical circumstances, and those moments of nity and moral discourses of Sir Charles, his strong emotion, which are but of rare occur- bows, minuets, compliments, and immoveable rence in real life, we are never deceived into tranquillity, are much more likely to excite any belief of their reality, and contemplate the derision than the admiration of a modem the whole as an exaggerated and dazzling reader. Richardson's good people, in short, illusion. With such authors we merely make are too wise and too formal, ever to appear in a visit by appointment, and see and hear only the light of desirable companions, or to excite what we know has been prepared for our re- in a youthful mind any wish to resemble ception. With Richardson, we slip, invisible, them.' The gaiety of all his characters, too, into the domestic privacy of his characters, is extremely girlish and silly, and is much and hear and see every thing that is said and more like the prattle of spoiled children, than done among them, whether it be interesting the wit and pleasantry of persons acquainted or otherwise, and whether it gratify our curi- with the world. The diction throughout is osity or disappoint it. We sympathise with heavy, vulgar, and embarrassed; though the the former, therefore, only as we sympathise interest of the tragical scenes is too powerful with the monarchs and statesmen of history, to allow us to attend to any inferior consideraof whose condition as individuals we have but tion. The novels of Richardson, in short, a very imperfect conception. We feel for the though praised perhaps somewhat beyond latter, as for our private friends and acquaint- their merits, will always be read with adance, with whose whole situation we are miration; and certainly can never appear to familiar, and as to whom we can conceive greater advantage than when contrasted with exactly the effects that will be produced by the melancholy farrago which is here entitled every thing that may befal them. In th's his Correspondence.

(Iuly, 1813.) Correspondance, Littéraire, Philosophique et Critique. Addressée à un Souverain d'Allemagne,

depuis 1770 jusqu'à 1782. Par le Baron DE GRIMM, et par DIDEROT. 5 tomes, 8vo. pp. 2250. Paris: 1812.

This is certainly a very entertaining book upon his sitting down one evening in a seat ---though a little too bulky—and, the greater which he had previously fixed upon for him. part of it, not very important. We are glad self; but with Voltaire and D'Alembert, and to see it, however; not only because we are all the rest of that illustrious society, both glad to see any thing entertaining, but also male and female, he continued always on the because it makes us acquainted with a per- most cordial footing; and, while he is reson, of whom every one has heard a great proached with a certain degree of obsequiousdeal, and most people hitherto known very ness toward the rich and powerful, must be little. There is no name which comes oftener allowed to have used less tlattery toward his across us, in the modem history of French literary associates than was usual in the inliterature, than that of Grimm, and none, tercourse of those jealous and artificial beings. perhaps, whose right to so much notoriety When the Duke of Saxe-Gotha left Paris, seemed to most people to stand upon such Grimm undertook to send him regularly an scanty titles. Coming from a foreign country, account of every thing remarkable that ocwithout rank, fortune, or exploits of any kind cured in the literary, political, and scandalous to recommend him, he contrived, one does not chronicle of that great city; and acquitted very well see how to make himself conspicu- himself in this delicate office so much to the ous for forty years in the best company of satisfaction of his noble correspondent, that Paris; and at the same time to acquire great he nominated him, in 1776, his resident at influence and authority among literary men the court of France, and raised him at the of all descriptions, without publishing any same time to the rank and dignity of a Baron. thing himself, but a few slight observations The volumes before us are a part of the desupon French and Italian music.

patches of this literary plenipotentiary; and The volumes before us help, in part, to ex- are certainly the most amusing state papers plain this enigma; and not only give proof of that have ever fallen under our obversation. talents and accomplishments quite sufficient The Baron de Grimm continued to exercise to justify the reputation the author enjoyed the functions of this philosophical diplomacy, among his contemporaries, but also of such a till the gathering storm of the Revolution degree of industry and exertion, as entitle drove both ministers and philosophers from him, we think, to a reasonable reversion of the territories of the new Republic. He then fame from posterity. Before laying before took refuge of course in the court of his masour readers any part of this miscellaneous ter, where he resided till 1795; when Cathachronicle, we shall endeavour to give them a rine of Russia, to whose shrine he had forgeneral idea of its construction—and to tell merly made a pilgrimage from Paris, gave them all that we have been able to discover him the appointment of her minister at the about its author.

court of Saxony-which he continued to hold Melchior Grimm was born at Ratisbon in till the end of the reign of the unfortunate 1723, of very humble parentage ; but, being Paul, when the partial loss of sight obliged tolerably well educated, took to literature at him to withdraw altogether from business, a very early period. His first essays were and to return to the court of Saxe-Gotha, made in his own country—and, as we under- where he continued his studies in literature stand, in his native language-where he com- and the arts with unabated ardour, till he posed several tragedies, which were hissed sunk at last under a load of years and infirmiupon the stage, and unmercifully abused in ties in the end of 1807.—He was of an un. the closet, by Lessing, and the other oracles comely and grotesque appearance—with huge of Teutonic criticism. He then came to Paris, projecting eyes and discordant features, which as a sort of tutor to the children of M. de he rendered still more hideous, by daubing Schomberg, and was employed in the humble them profusely with white and with red paint capacity of reader to the Duke of Saxe-Gotha, according to the most approved costume of when he was first brought into notice by petits-maîtres, in the year 1748, when he Rousseau, who was smitten with his enthusi- made his debût at Paris. asın for music, and made him known to The book embraces a period of about twelve Diderot, the Baron d’Holbach, and various years only, from 1770 to 1782, with a gap for other persons of eminence in the literary | 1775 and part of 1776. It is said in the titleworld. His vivacity and various accomplish- page to be partly the work of Grimm, and ments soon made him generally acceptable; partly that of Diderot,—but the contributions while his uniform prudence and excellent of the latter are few, and comparatively of good sense prevented him from ever losing little importance. It' is written half in the any of the friends he had gained. Rousseau, style of a journal intended for the public, and indeed, chose to quarrel with him for life, hálf in that of private and confidential cor, respondence; and, notwithstanding the re- | out the shortest and most pleasant way to all trenchments which the editor boasts of having truths, to which a short and a pleasant way made in the manuscript, contains a vast mis- can readily be discovered; and then lay it cellany of all sorts of intelligence;-critiques down as a maxim, that no others are worth upon all new publications, new operas, and looking after—and' in the same way, they do new performers at the theatres ; -accounts such petty kindnesses, and indulge such light of all the meetings and elections at the acade- sympathies, as do not put them to any trouble, mies,—and of the deaths and characters of all or encroach at all on their amusements, the eminent persons who demised in the while they make it a principle to wrap themperiod to which it extends ;-copies of the selves up in those amusements from the asepigrams, and editions of the scandalous sto- sault of all more engrossing or importunate ries that occupied the idle population of Paris affections. during the same period-interspersed with The turn for derision again arises naturally various original compositions, and brief and out of this order of things. When passion pithy dissertations upon the general subjects and enthusiasm, affection and serious occupathat are suggested by such an enumeration. tion have once been banished by a short-sightOf these, the accounts of the operas and the ed voluptuousness, the sense of ridicule is actors are (now) the most tedious,—the criti- almost the only lively sensation that remains; cal and biographical sketches the most live- -and the envied life of those who have ly,--and the general observations the most nothing to do but to enjoy themselves, would striking and important. The whole, however, be utterly listless and without interest, if they is given with great vivacity and talent, and were not allowed to laugh at each other. with a degree of freedom which trespasses Their quickness in perceiving ordinary follies occasionally upon the borders both of pro- and illusions too, affords great encouragement priety and of good taste.

to this laudable practice ;--and as none of There is nothing indeed more exactly paint them have so much passion or enthusiasm ed in these graphical volumes, than the char- left, as to be deeply wounded by the shafts acter of M. Grimm himself ;-and the beauty of derision, they fall lightly, and without of it is, that as there is nothing either natural rankling, on the lesser vanities, which supply or peculiar about it, it may stand for the char- in them those master springs of human action acter of most of the wits and philosophers and feeling. he frequented. He had more wit, perhaps, The whole style and tone of this publicaand more sound sense and information, than tion affords the most striking illustration of the greater part of the society in which he these general remarks. From one end of it lived-But the leading traits belong to the to the other, it is a display of the most comwhole class, and to all classes indeed, in plete heartlessness, and the most uninterruptsimilar situations, in every part of the world. ed levity. It chronicles the deaths of half the Whenever there is a very large assemblage author's acquaintance—and makes jests upon of persons who have no other occupation but them all; and is much more serious in disto amuse themselves, there will infallibly be cussing the merits of an opera dancer, than generated acuteness of intellect, refinement in considering the evidence for the being of a of manners, and good taste in conversation ;- God, or the first foundations of morality. and, with the same certainty, all profound Nothing, indeed, can be more just or concluthought, and all serious affection, will be sive, than the remark that is forced from M. generally discarded from their society. The Grimm himself, upon the utter carelessness multitude of persons and things that force and instant oblivion, that followed the death themselves on the attention in such a scene, of one of the most distinguished, active, and and the rapidity with which they succeed amiable members of his coterie;—“tant il each other and pass away, prevent any one est vrai que ce qui nous appellons la Societé, from making a deep or permanent impression ; est ce qu'il y a de plus Jeger, de plus ingrat, and the mind, having never been tasked to et de plus frivole au monde !" any course of application, and long habituated Holding this opinion very firmly ourselves, to this lively succession and variety of objects, it will easily be believed that we are very far comes at last to require the excitement of from envying the brilliant persons who comperpetual change, and to find a multiplicity posed, or gave the tone to this exquisite 50of friends as indispensable as a multiplicity ciety;--and while we have a due admiration of amusements. Thus the characteristics of for the elegant pleasantry, correct taste, and large and polished society, come almost in- gay acuteness, of which they furnish, perhaps, evitably to be, wit and heartlessness—acute- the only perfect models, we think it more de

ess and perpetual derision. The same im- sirable, on the whole, to be the spectators, patience of uniformity, and passion for va- than the possessors of those accomplishments; riety, which gives so much grace to their and would no more wish to buy ihem at the conversation, by excluding tediousness and price of our sober thinking, and settled affecpertinacious wrangling, make them incapable tions, than we would buy the dexterity of a of dwelling for many minutes on the feelings fiddler, or a ropedancer, at the price of our and concerns of any one individual; while personal respectability. Even in the days of the constant pursuit of little gratifications, and youth and high spirits, there is no solid enjoythe weak dread of all uneasy sensations, ment in living altogether with people who render them equally averse from serious sym- care nothing about us ; and when we begin to pathy and deep thought. They speedily find grow old and unamuseable, there can be gothing so comfortless as to be surrounded M. Grimm, however, reveals worse infirmiwith those who think of nothing but amuse- ties than this in his great preceptor. There ment. The spectacle, however, is gay and was a young Mademoiselle Raucour, it seems, beautiful to those who look upon it with a who, though an actress, enjoyed an unblemgood-natured sympathy, or indulgence; and ished reputation. Voltaire, who had never naturally suggests reflections that may be in- seen her, chose one morning to write to the teresting to the most serious. A judicious Marechal de Richelieu, by whom she was extractor, we have no doubt, might accom- patronized, that she was a notorious prostimodate both classes of readers, from the iute, and ready to be taken into keeping by ample magazine that lies before us.

any one who would offer for her. This im. The most figuring person in the work, and putation having been thoughtlessly communiindeed of the age to which it belongs, was cated to the damsel herself, produced no little beyond all question Voltaire,-oi whom, and commotion; and upon Voltaire's being reof whose character, it presents us with many monstrated with, he immediately retracted very amusing traits. He receives no other the whole story, which it seems was a piece name throughout the book, than “The Patri- of pure invention; and confessed, that the arch" of the Holy Philosophical Church, of only thing he had to object to Madlle. Raucour which the authors, and the greater part of was, that he had understood they had put off their friends, profess to be humble votaries the representation of a new play of his, in orand disciples. The infallibility of its chief, der to gratify the public with her appearance however, seems to have formed no part of the in comedy ;-—"and this was enough,” says ereed of this reformed religion; for, with all M. Grimm, “to irritate a child of seventyhis admiration for the wit, and playfulness, nine, against another child of seventeen, who and talent of the philosophic pontiff, nothing came in the way of his gratification !" can exceed the freedoms in which M. Grimm A little after, he tells another story which indulges, both as to his productions, and his is not only very disreputable to the Patriarch, character. All his poetry, he says, after Tan- but affords a striking example of the monstrous cred, is clearly marked with the symptoms evils that arise from religious intolerance, in of approaching dotage and decay; and his a country where the whole population is not views of many important subjects he treats of the same communion. A Mons. de B. in. as altogether erroneous, shallow, and con- troduced himself into a protestant family at temptible. He is particularly offended with Montauban, and after some time, publicly him for not adopting the decided atheism of married the only daughter of the house, in the the Systeme de la Nature, and for weakly stop- church of her pastor. He lived several years ping short at a kind of paltry deism. “The with her, and had one daughter—dissipated Patriarch,” says he, “ still sticks to his Re- her whole property-and at last deserted her, munerateur-Vengeur, without whom he fancies and married another woman at Paris-upon the world would go on very ill. He is reso- the pretence that his first union was not bindlute enough, I confess, for putting down the ing, the ceremony not having been performed god of knaves and bigots, but is not for part- by a Catholic priest. The Parliament ultiing with that of the virtuous and rational. He mately allowed this plea ; and farther directreasons upon all this, too, like a baby—a very ed, that the daughter should be taken from its smart baby it must be owned—but a baby mother, and educated in the true faith in a notwithstanding. He would be a little puz- convent. The transaction excited general inzled, I take it, if he were asked what was dignation; and the legality of the sentence, the colour of his god of the virtuous and wise, and especially the last part of it, was very &c. &c. He cannot conceive, he says, how much disputed, both in the profession and out mere motion, undirected by intelligence, should of it ;—when Voltaire, to the astonishment of ever have produced such a world as we in all the world, thought fit to put forth a pamhabit—and we verily believe him. Nobody phlet in its defence! M. Grimm treats the can conceive it—but it is a fact nevertheless; whole matter with his usual coldness and and we see it—which is nearly as good."' pleasantry ;-and as a sort of apology for this We give this merely as a specimen of the extraordinary proceeding of his chief, very disciple's irreverence towards his master; for coolly observes, “The truth is, that for some nothing can be more contemptible than the time past, the Patriarch has been suspected, reasoning of M. Grimm in support his own and indeed convicted, of the most abominable desolating opinions. He is more near being cowardice. He defied the old Parliament in right, where he makes himself merry with his youth with signal courage and intrepidity; the Patriarch's ignorance of natural philoso- and now he cringes to the new one, and even phy. Every Achilles however, he adds, has condescends to be its panegyrist, from an abà vulnerable heel-and that of the hero of surd dread of being persecuted by it on the Ferney is his Physics.*

very brink of the tomb.

“Ah! Seigneur Pat

This is only true, however, with regard to nat is so unmercifully rated by M. Grimm. We do ural history and chemistry; for as to the nobler not know many quartains in French poetry more part of physics, which depends on science, his at. beautiful than the following, which the Patriarch fainments were equal perhaps to those of any of indited impromptu, one fine summer eveninghis age and country, with the exception of D'Alem. bert." Even his astronomy, however, though by

“Tous ces vastes pays d'Azur et de Lumiere,

Tirés du sein du vide, et formés sans matiere, no means " mince et raccourrie." had a tendency

Arrondis sans compas, et tournans sans pivot, to confirm him in that paltry Deism, for which he Ont à peine couté la depense d'un mot !"

The poor

riarche !” he concludes, in the true Parisian | He promised every night, indeed, to give him accent, “Horace was much more excusable for long sitting next day, and always kept his flattering Augustus, who had honoured him, word ;—but then, he could no more sit still, though he destroyed the republic, than you than a child of three years old. He dictated are, for justifying, without any intelligible mo- letters all the time to his secretary; and, in tive, a proceeding so utterly detestable, and the mean time, kept blowing peas in the air

, upon which, if you had not courage to speak making pirouettes round his chamber, or inas became you, you were not called upon to dulging in other feats of activity, equally fatal say any thing."

It must be a comfort to the to the views of the artist. Poor Phidias was reader to learn, that immediately after this sen- about to return to Paris in despair, without tence, a M. Vanrobais, an old and most re- having made the slightest progress in his despectable gentleman, was chivalrous enough, sign; when the conversation happening by at the age of seventy, to marry the deserted good luck to turn upon Aaron's golden calf

, widow, and to place her in a situation every and Pigalle having said that he did not think way more respectable than that of which she such a thing could possibly be modelled and had been so basely defrauded.

cast in less than six months, the Patriarch There is a great deal, in the first of these was so pleased with him, that he submitted volumes, about the statue that was voted to to any thing he thought proper all the rest of Voltaire by his disciples in 1770.—Pigalle the the day, and the model was completed that sculptor was despatched to Ferney to model very evening. him, in spite of the opposition he affects to There are a number of other anecdotes, make in a letter to Madame Necker, in which extremely characteristic of the vivacity, imhe very reasonably observes, that in order to patience, and want of restraint which distinbe modelled, a man ought to have a face-guished this extraordinary person. One of but that age and sickness have so reduced the most amusing is that of the congé which him, that it is not easy to point out where he gave to the Abbé Coyer, who was kind abouts his had been; that his eyes are sunk enough to come to his castle at Ferney, with into pits three inches deep, and the small the intention of paying a long visit. The remnant of his teeth recently deserted; that second morning, however, the Patriarch inhis skin is like old parchment wrinkled over terrupted him in the middle of a dull account dry bones, and his legs and arms like dry of his travels, with this perplexing question, spindles ;-in short, "qu'on n'a jamais sculpté “Do you know, M. L'Abbé, in what you differ un pauvre homme dans cet etat.” Phidias entirely from Don Quixoite ?'' Pigalle, however, as he calls him, goes upon Abbé was unable to divine the precise point his errand, notwithstanding all these discour- of distinction ; and the philosopher was pleasagements; and finds him, according to M. ed to add, “Why, you know the Don took all Grimm, in a state of great vivacity. “He the inns on his road for castles,—but it apskips up stairs,” he assures me,“more nimbly pears to me that you take some castles for than all his subscribers put together, and is inns." The Abbé decamped without waiting as quick as lightning in running to shut doors, for a further reckoning. He behaved still and open windows; but, with all this, he is worse to a M. de Barthe, whom he invited to very anxious to pass for a poor man in the come and read a play to him, and afterwards last extremities; and would take it much drove out of the house, by the yawns and amiss if he thought that any body had dis- frightful contortions with which he amused covered the secret of his health and vigour.” himself, during the whole of the performSome awkward person, indeed, it appears, has ance. been complimenting him upon the occasion ; One of his happiest repartees is said to have for he writes me as follows:-“My dear been made to an Englishman, who had refriend—though Phidias Pigalle is the most cently been on a visit to the celebrated Halvirtuous of mortals, he calumniates me cruel. ler, in whose praise Voltaire enlarged with ly; I understand he goes about saying that I great warmth, extolling him as a great poet, am quite well, and as sleek as a monk ! - a great naturalist, and a man of universal Such is the ungrateful return he makes for attainments. The Englishman answered, that the pains I took to force my spirits for his it was very handsome in M. De Voltaire to amusement, and to puff up my buccinatory speak so well of Mr. Haller, inasmuch as he, muscles, in order to look well in his eyes ! -- the said Mr. Haller, was by no means so Jean Jacques, to be sure, is far more puffed liberal to M. de Voltaire. "Ah!" said the up than I am; but it is with conceit- from Patriarch, with an air of philosophic indulwhich I am frée." In another letter he says, gence, “I dare say we are both of us very

-“When the peasants in my village saw Pi- much'mistaken." galle laying out some of the instruments of On another occasion, a certain M. de St. his art, they flocked round us with great glee, Ange, who valued himself on the graceful and said, Ah! he is going to dissect him—turn of his compliments, having come to see how droll !--so one spectacle you see is just him, took his leave with this studied allusion as good for some people as another.” to the diversity of his talents, "My visit to

The account which Pigalle himself gives day has only been to Homer-another mornof his mission, is extremely characteristic. ing I shall pay my respects to Sophocles and For the first eight days, he could make noth- Euripides-another to Tacitusand another ing of his patient, -he was so restless and to Lucian." "Ah, Sir!" replied the Patrifull of grimaces, starts, and gesticulations. arch, "I am wretchedly old, -could you not

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