fourth of July, 1761. He was buried, according to his own direction, by the side of his first wife in the church of St. Bride. Young had occasion for comfort, in consequence of his sudden death: "When Heaven would kindly set us free, And earth's enchantment end, It takes the most effectual means, And robs us of a friend." To Richardson this poet had addressed his Conjectures on original Composition;' and, in his Resignation,' he thus affectionately compliments his memory: "To touch our passions' secret spring, Was his peculiar care, And deep his happy genius dived Nature, which favours to the few The key of human hearts.” He was twice married: by his first wife Martha Wilde, the daughter of his old master, whom he lost in 1781, he had five sons and a daughter; but they all died young. His second (Elizabeth, sister of Mr. Leake, bookseller at Bath) who survived him twelve years, bore him a son and five daughters. Of these, four of the daughters survived him, viz. Mary, married in 1757 to Mr. Ditcher, an eminent surgeon at Bath; Martha, married in 1762 to Edward Bridgen Esq., F. R. and A. SS., and Treasurer of the latter body; Anne, the survivor of the whole family; and Sarah, the wife of Mr. Crowther, surgeon, of Boswell Court, London. With deeper and juster views of human nature (says a respectable authoress) a truer taste for the proprieties of female character, and a more exact intuition into real life than any other writer of fabulous narrative, Richardson has given in his heroines exemplifications of elegantly cultivated minds, combined with the sober virtues of domestic economy. In no other writer of fictitious adventures have the triumph of religion and reason over the passions, and the now almost-exploded doctrines of filial obedience and the household virtues, their natural concomitants, been so successfully blended. Whether the works of this most original, but by no means faultless, writer were cause or effect, I know not: whether these wellimagined examples induced the ladies of that day to study household good,' or whether the thenexisting ladies by their acknowledged attention to feminine concerns furnished him with living models, I cannot determine. "To this great master of the heart,' observes Mr. Duncombe, this Shakspeare of romance, the Graces may be said to have unveiled nature; and while our language lasts, or taste and sensibility remain, the madness of Clementina in particular will be as much admired and felt as that of Lear. And let it be remembered, that the virtues, which Richardson drew, he copied from his own heart; the benevolence, which he inculcated, he constantly practised in it's fullest extent." It was also remarked of him that, beside his being a great genius, he was a truly good man in all respects; in his family, in commerce, in conversation, and in every instance of conduct. He was pious, virtuous, exemplary, benevolent, friendly, generous, and humane to an uncommon degree; glad of every opportunity of serving his fellow-creatures in distress, and relieving many without their knowledge. His chief delight indeed was, doing good. He was highly revered and beloved by his domestics, because of his happy temper and his discreet conduct. He had great tenderness toward his wife and children; though from his high notions of parental authority, there was a certain formality and stiffness in the family-intercourse, more favourable to reverence than to affection. This natural reservedness of manner he himself was sensible of, and deeply lamented. It was, probably, increased by his nervous disorders, brought on (as he observes) by no intemperance but that of study. Where there exists strong genius, the bent of the mind is imperious, and will be obeyed: but the body too often sinks under it. Mrs. Chapone, in her Ode to Health,' had adverted to her friend's indisposition with great feeling in the following apostrophe: “Hast thou not left a RICHARDSON unblest? He wooes thee still in vain, relentless Maid, Smile thou too, Goddess, and complete his bliss." The purity of his stile however, it must be admitted, is not commensurate with his other excellences of composition. From the facility with which he wrote, and his natural turn to excessive compliment, considerable defects pervade all his productions. Without the elegant ease to be derived perhaps only from polished society, or the correct and classical finish resulting from a superior education, they exhibit numerous flippances of expression, unauthorised words, and ill-constructed sentences: they are tiresome, gossiping, and verbose. Yet, with these imperfections, he never fails to set before his reader, in the most lively manner, every circumstance which he wishes to describe. He has the minute touches of a Dutch painter, with the fine ideas of an. Italian one. With his patient labour, had he turned his thoughts to the observation of rural nature, instead of human manners, he would have been as accurate a describer as Cowper. His works have been translated into various languages, and much admired, notwithstanding the dissimilitude of manners and the disadvantages of a translation, by foreigners of celebrity. Rousseau, in his Letter to D'Alembert,' says; "There never has been written, in any language, a romance equal or approaching to Clarissa." The esteem, however, was not reciprocal. Mr. Richardson, disgusted at some of the scenes and the whole tendency of the 'New Eloisa,' secretly criticised the work (as he read it) in marginal notes, and thought but too correctly, that it "taught the passions to move at the command of vice." Monsieur Diderot, in his Essay on Dramatic Poetry,' exclaims "How strong, how sensible, how pathetic, are his descriptions! His personages, though silent, are alive before me; and, of those who speak, the actions are still more affecting than the words.” 6 * Beside his three great productions, some smaller performances are enumerated by the accurate and respectable Mr. Nichols in his Literary Anecdotes,' IV, 579. Among these, may be specified an edition of Æsop's Fables, with Reflexions.' His 'Correspondence,' selected from the original manu. scripts, was published by Mrs. Barbauld, in six volumes 8vo., in 1804. 144 EDWARD YOUNG, LL.D.* [1681-1765.] DR. EDWARD YOUNG was born in 1681, at Upham in Hampshire, of which place his father (Dr. Edward Young, Dean of Sarum) was then rector. At a proper age he was sent to Winchester, where he became a scholar upon the foundation. Thence he removed to Oxford, and was admitted of New College in 1703; but being superannuated and there being no fellowship vacant, he migrated before the expiration of the year to Corpus Christi College.† In 1708, he was appointed a law-fellow of All Souls by Archbishop Tenison, patron by devolution. That he passed a foolish youth, the sport of Peers' (as asserted. by Pope) may have been reported from the circumstance of his being charmed and patronised 6 * AUTHORITIES. Biographia Britannica, British Biography, Baker's Biographia Dramatica, and Johnson's Lives of the Poets. + In both instances, his object in choosing a college was the contracting of his academical expenses. The Warden of New College, a friend of his father's, permitted him to live at the Lodge; and upon his death in 1704, the President of Corpus, with a similar view, invited the young student to change his society. |