eclared my opinion very explicitely
about amorous writers, whether in prose or verse; but if the
sentence which the _dear flighty creature_ passes upon them
all, without distinction, could have been executed, what
must have become of her good friend Mr. Samuel Richardson.
He too is a poet, for though he does not write in verse, yet
he draws characters, and deals in fiction, and is besides
one of the most amorous poets in the world; he does not
indeed paint a Chloe or a Sachurissa in an ivy bower, or a
shady grove, there is something of delicacy in that; but he
represents all the preparations to the good work, and the
good work itself, going forward, in a downright honest
manner, among whores and rakes, in brothels and bagnios. He
not only raises the passions, but kindly points out the
readiest and the easiest way to lay them. That man must have
a very philosophical constitution, indeed, who does not find
himself moved by several descriptions, particularly that
luscious one, which Bob Lovelace gives of Clarissa's person,
when he makes the attempt on her virtue, after the adventure
of the fire. Not that I think any genius is required for
such an atchievement; nature, with the least hint, is more
than sufficient for the purpose; few good writers have
attempted such things, and the very worst have succeeded.
However, the passions of the reader being now raised, his
next business is to satisfy them; and he cannot but reflect
that this virtuous scene passes in a brothel, where, though
Clarissa may be impregnable, unless a dose of opium be first
administered, there are such girls as Sally Martin and Polly
Horton; but they not being _every man's girls_, as Bob
Lovelace tells us, and our adventurer, perhaps, not having
money, address, or patience, to come to the _ultimatum_ with
those first-rate ladies of pleasure, he very sagely
concludes, that one woman is as good as another, especially
as the same Bob Lovelace, so experienced in the ways of
women, informs him, that _that prime gift differs only in
its external customary visibles_, and that _the skull of
Philip is no better than another man's_, he very contentedly
resolves to take up with Dorcas Wykes, or the first _ready
non-apparent_ he can meet with in _the outer house_.
Accordingly our amorous youth sallies forth, fully bent to
enjoy Clarissa in imagination; but before he has got half
way to mother Sinclair's, he meets a pretty girl in the
streets, who invites him to