Her determina

osity, thy compassion, thy nobleness for a creature, who, aiming to be great like thee, could not sustain the effort? It is in thy power to hold me fast or to set me free. I know thou lovest Clementina; it is her pride to think that thou dost. But she is not worthy of thee. Yet let thy heart own that thou lovest her soul. Thou art all magnanimity; thou canst sustain the effort which she was unequal to. Make some other woman happy! But I cannot bear that it shall be an Italian. My brain wounded, my health impaired, can I expect a long life? And shall I not endeavor to make the close of it happy? Let me be great, my chevalier!"

Every effort to change this determination was vain, and tion irrevocable. after repeated efforts and a (really) touching final interview with Clementina, Sir Charles departed for England. On Tuesday, September 5th, Lady G. writes:

Grandmamma Shirley sees a ghost.

Congratulate us, my dearest Miss Byron, on the arrival of my brother. He came last night. It was late, and he sent to us this morning, and to others of his friends. My lord and I hurried away to breakfast with him. Ah, my dear! we see too plainly that he has been very much disturbed in mind. He looks more wan, and is thinner than he was; but he is the same kind brother, friend, and good man.

And next from Selby House, Wednesday, September 20th, comes this from Harriet :

MY DEAREST LADY G.: Do you know what is become of your brother? My grandmamma Shirley has seen his ghost, and talked with it near an hour; and then it vanished. Be not surprised, my dear creature. I am still in amaze at the account my grandmamma gives us of its appearance, discourse, and vanishing! Nor was the dear parent in a reverie. It happened in the middle of the afternoon, all in broad day.

Thus she tells it: "I was sitting," said she, "in my own drawing-room, yesterday, by myself, when in came James, to whom it first appeared, and told me that a gentleman desired to be introduced to me. I was reading 'Sherlock upon Death' with that cheerfulness with which I always meditate the subject. I gave orders for his admittance; and in came, to appearance, one of the handsomest men I ever saw in my life, in a riding dress. It was a courteous ghost; it saluted me, or

at least I thought it did; for it answering to the description that you, my Harriet, had given me of that amiable man, I was surprised. But contrary to the manner of ghosts, it spoke first. 'Venerable lady,' it called me, and said its name was Grandison, in a voice so like what I had heard you speak of his that I had no doubt but it was Sir Charles Grandison himself, and was ready to fall down to welcome him.”

vanishes.

The ghost left a great packet of letters for Harriet, The ghost refused refreshments, desired in a courtly manner an answer to what it had discoursed upon, made a profound reverence, and vanished.

So now, through the length of two more volumes, everything flows smoothly, but not rapidly. Sir Charles's advances are made by parallels, beginning with the excellent grandparent. When he approaches the citadel, it is with caution and great delicacy. This delicacy arose from the doubt whether Miss Byron would be willing, or should be permitted, to condone the previous preoccupation of his heart with another lady. And Harriet does not surrender without endless punctilio and reticence. He took her hand and was bowing upon it at page 65; on page 81 the real offer of marriage begins, The offer of and extends to page 89, during which space he talks steadily but well. At this first pause she writes:

Not well before, I was more than once in apprehension of fainting, as he talked, agreeable as was his talk, and engaging as was his manner. My grandmamma and aunt saw my complexion change (they had been silent throughout) at his particular address to me in the last part of his speech. I held my handkerchief now to my eyes, and now as a cover to myselffelt varying cheek.

In the most respectful and graceful manner he pressed a hand of each with his lips; mine twice. I could not speak. My grandmamma and aunt, delighted, yet tears standing in their eyes, looked upon each other, and upon me; each as expecting the other to speak. But he was ready to continue: "I have, perhaps," said he with some emotion, "taken up too

marriage.

The offer accepted.

The glorious wedding.

much of Miss Byron's attention in this my first personal declaration. I will now return to the company. We will for this evening postpone the important subject.”

At last, later on, the "man of men" gave Miss Byron an opportunity to accept him. He then, on one knee, taking her passive hand between both his, and kissing it once, twice, thrice-"Repeat, dear and ever dear Miss Byron," and so on, and she took out her handkerchief. Endless delays, before she could be persuade to fix the day.

"Why hesitates my love?"

"Do you think six weeks-"

"Six ages, my dearest, dearest creature! Six weeks! For heaven's sake, madam-"

He looked, he spoke impatience.

66

On his leaving me to return to company below he presented me with four little boxes. 'Accept, my beloved Miss Byron," said he, "of these trifles."

"Very handsome jewels" they proved to be.

The rest of the sixth volume is occupied with accounts infinitely detailed of the glorious wedding, all in letters to Lady G., who was unavoidably absent. The seventh volume describes the happiness of Sir Charles and Lady Grandison, and a visit they received from Clementina and all the Porrettas. But the book really ends with the wedding.

Joy, joy, joy, was wished the happy pair from every mouth. "See, my dear young ladies," said the happy and instructing Mrs. Shirley, "the reward of duty, virtue, and obedience."

BIBLIOGRAPHY.

Life and Correspondence of Samuel Richardson. Mrs. Barbauld.

Mrs. Barbauld's Life in "English Poetesses," by Eric S. Robertson, M. A.

Richardson's Complete Works (any edition).

BOOK V.

FIELDING.

CHAPTER XIV.

NEXT to Richardson among the novelists of this period, the second place is given to Henry Fielding, called by Byron "the prose Homer of human nature. In his personal character as well as in his literary career, in everything, indeed, but the power of his genius, he was the exact opposite of Richardson, though very nearly his contemporary. He lived from 1707 to 1754, while Richardson, who was born eight years earlier, died some years later.

"The prose Homer of human nature."

Lady Mary.

He was of noble birth, being a descendant of the illustrious house of Denbigh and son of General Fielding. He was the second cousin of Lady Mary Wortley, A cousin of descended in the same degree from George, Earl of Desmond. He dedicated to her his first comedy of "Love in Several Masks" in 1727. She had a great regard for him; pitied his misfortunes, excused his failings, and warmly admired his best writings, above all "Tom Jones," in her own copy of which she wrote Ne plus ultra. Nevertheless she frankly said she was "sorry he did not himself perceive that he had made Tom Jones a scoundrel."

Early in life Fielding succeeded to a ruined inheri. tance, and betook himself to the stage, becoming a dramatic author and lively writer in the Covent Garden Journal. He produced a number of pieces, now

147

Henry Fielding's early struggle with fortune.

"Joseph Andrews."

entirely forgotten, which show that his talent was in no way adapted to the theater. His career for some years was a continuous struggle with fortune and his own extravagance. He married an excellent lady, whose picture he drew in his "Amelia"; he loved her passionately and she returned his affection, but they led no happy life, for they were always poor and seldom in a state of quiet and safety on account of his debts. If he ever possessed any money, nothing could keep him from squandering it at once and nothing induced him to think of to-morrow. Sometimes they were living in decent lodgings with tolerable comfort; sometimes in a wretched garret without the necessaries of life, not to speak of sponging-houses and hiding-places where he was occasionally lying perdu. His elastic gaiety of spirits carried him through it all; but meanwhile care and anxiety were preying upon her more delicate organization, and undermining her health. She gradually declined, caught a fever, and died in his arms. Yet after the death of this charming woman he married her maid, a person of but few apparent attractions, but an excellent creature, devoted to her mistress and almost broken-hearted for her loss. Her conduct as his wife justified the act.

In 1742, when he was thirty-five, he first struck the vein of humorous writing in which he is considered never to have had a rival, when he produced his first novel, "Joseph Andrews," which was in some sense intended as a parody or caricature, ridiculing the timid morality of Richardson's "Pamela," its shopkeeper tone, and generally "good boy" style; "Pamela" was then in full blaze of success. Fielding's novel at once received the honor due to a great, original creation, and in a short time he produced the remarkable sa