.

_the masquerade_. Bk. X, ch. 2.

_the interview_. Bk. X, chs. 2, 8.

P. 162. _His declaring_. Bk. III, ch. 3.

_his consoling himself_. Bk. III, ch. 2.

_the night-adventures_. Bk. IV, ch. 14.

_that with the huntsman_. Bk. III, ch. 6.

_Wilson's account_. Bk. III, ch. 3.

P. 163. _Roderick Random's carroty locks_. ch. 13.

_Strap's ignorance_. ch. 14.

_intus et in cute_. Persius' "Satires," III, 30.

P. 164. _scene on ship-board_. ch. 24.

_profligate French friar_. chs. 42-43.

P. 165. _the Count's address_. ch. 27.

_the robber-scene_. chs. 20-21.

_the Parisian swindler_. ch. 24.

_the seduction_. ch. 34.

P. 166. _the long description_. The allusions to Miss Byron's dress in
Vol. VII, Letter III, can scarcely be called a long description.

P. 167. _Dr. Johnson seems to have preferred_. Cf. Boswell's "Johnson,"
ed. Hill, II, 174: "Sir, there is more knowledge of the heart in one
letter of Richardson's, than in all Tom Jones."

P. 168. _reproaches to her "lumpish heart"_. "Pamela," ed. Dobson and
Phelps, I, 268.

_its lightness_. I, 276.

_the joy_. II, 7-25.

_the artifice of the stuff-gown_. I, 51.

_the meeting with Lady Davers_. II, 145 ff.

_the trial-scene with her husband_. IV, 122 ff.

P. 169. _her long dying-scene_. "Clarissa Harlowe," ed. Dobson and Phelps,
Vol. VIII, Letter 29.

_the closing of the coffin-lid_. VIII, Letter 50.

_the heart-breaking reflections_. VI, Letter 29.

_Books are a real world._ Wordsworth's "Personal Talk."

_Lovelace's reception and description of Hickman_. VI, Letter 80.

_the scene at the glove-shop_. VII, Letter 70.

_Belton, so pert_. I, Letter 31.

_his systematically preferring_. Cf. "Why the Heroes of Romances are
Insipid" (Works, XII, 62): "There is not a single thing that Sir Charles
Grandison does or says all through the book from liking to any person or
object but himself, and with a view to answer to a certain standard of
perfection for which he pragmatically sets up. He is always thinking of
himself, and trying to show that he is the wisest, happiest, and most
virtuous person in the whole world. He is (or would be thought) a code of
Christian ethics; a compilation and abstract of all gentlemanly
accomplishments. There is nothing, I conceive, that excites so little
sympathy as this inordinate egotism; or so much disgust as this
everlasting self-complacency. Yet this self-admiration, brought forward on
every occasion as th