il his tragedy; and was rewarded
by an account of her emotions on reading the last volumes. She laid the
book down in agonies, took it up again, shed a flood of tears, and threw
herself upon her couch to compose her mind. Her husband, who was
plodding after her, begged her to read no more. But she had promised
Richardson to finish the book. She nerved herself for the task; her
sleep was broken, she woke in tears during the night, and burst into
tears at her meals. Charmed by her delicious sufferings, she became
Richardson's friend for life, though it was long before she could muster
up courage to meet him face to face.

Yet Lady Bradshaigh seems to have been a sensible woman, and shows
vivacity and intelligence in some of her discussions with Richardson. If
he was not altogether spoilt by the flattery of so many excellent
women, we can only explain it by remembering that he did not become
famous till he was past fifty, and therefore past spoiling. One
peculiarity, indeed, is rather unpleasant in these letters. Richardson's
worshippers evidently felt that their deity was jealous, and made no
scruple of offering the base sacrifice of abuse of rival celebrities.
Richardson adopts their tone; he is always gibing at Fielding. '_I could
not help telling his sister_', he observes--a sister, too, whose merits
Fielding had praised with his usual generosity--'that I was equally
surprised at and concerned for his continuous lowness. Had your brother,
said I, been born in a stable or been a runner at a sponging-house we
should have thought him a genius,' but now! So another great writer came
just in time to be judged by Richardson. A bishop asked him, 'Who is
this Yorick,' who has, it seems, been countenanced by an 'ingenious
dutchess.' Richardson briefly replies that the bishop cannot have looked
into the books, 'execrable I cannot but call them.' Their only merit is
that they are 'too gross to be inflaming.' The history of the mutual
judgments upon each other of contemporary authors would be more amusing
than edifying.

Richardson should not have been so hard upon Sterne, for Sterne was in
some degree following Richardson's lead. 'What is the meaning,' asks
Lady Bradshaigh (about 1749) 'of the word _sentimental_, so much in
vogue among the polite both in town and country? Everything clever and
agreeable is comprehended in that word; but I am convinced a wrong
interpretation is given, because it is impossible everything clever an