of a civil state together. That he may obtain justice, he gives up his right of determining what it is in points the most essential to him. That he may secure some liberty, he makes a surrender in trust of the whole of it.

Government is not made in virtue of natural rights, which may and do exist in total independence of it; and exist in much greater clearness, and in a much greater degree of abstract perfection; but their abstract perfection is their practical defect. By having a right to everything, they want everything. Government is a contrivance of human wisdom to provide for human wants. Men have a right that these wants should be provided for by this wisdom. Among these wants is to be reckoned the want, out of civil society, of a sufficient restraint upon their passions. Society requires not only that the passions of individuals should be subjected, but that even in the mass and body, as well as in the individuals, the inclinations of men should frequently be thwarted, their will controlled, and their passions brought into subjection. This can only be done by a power out of themselves; and not, in the exercise of its function, subject to that will and to those passions which it is its office to bridle and subdue. In this sense, the restraints on men, as well as their liberties, are to be reckoned amongst their rights. But as the liberties and the restrictions vary with times and circumstances, and admit of infinite modifications, they cannot be settled upon any abstract rule; and nothing is so foolish as to discuss them upon that principle.

The moment you abate anything from the full rights of men, each to govern himself, and suffer any artificial, positive limitation upon those rights, from that moment the whole organisation of government becomes a consideration of convenience. This it is which makes the constitution of a state, and the due distribution of its powers, a matter of the most delicate and complicated skill. It requires a deep knowledge of human nature and human necessities, and of the things which facilitate or obstruct the various ends, which are to be pursued by the mechanism of civil institutions. The state is to have recruits to its strength. and remedies to its distempers. What is the

use of discussing a man's abstract right to food or medicine ? The question is upon the method of procuring and administering them. In that deliberation I shall always advise to call in the aid of the farmer and the physician, rather than the professor of metaphysics.

RICHARDSON

(OUTLINE HISTORY, § 74)

THE DEATH OF CLARISSA

(From Clarissa.)

MR. BELFORD to ROBERT LOVELACE, Esq.

Thursday Night.

I MAY as well try to write; since, were I to go to bed, I shall not sleep. I never had such a weight of grief upon my mind in my life, as upon the demise of this admirable woman; whose soul is now rejoicing in the regions of light. You may be glad to know the particulars of her happy exit. I will try to proceed; for all is hush and still; the family retired; but not one of them, and least of all her poor cousin, I daresay, to rest. At four o'clock, as I mentioned in my last, I was sent for down; and as thou usedst to like my descriptions, I will give thee the woful scene that presented itself to me as I approached the bed. The Colonel was the first that took my attention, kneeling on the side of the bed, the lady's right hand in both his, which his face covered, bathing it with his tears; although she had been comforting him, as the woman since told me, in elevated strains, but broken accents.

On the other side of the bed sat the good widow; her face overwhelmed with tears, leaning her head against the bed's head in a most disconsolate manner; and turning her face to me, as soon as she saw me-O Mr. Belford, cried she with folded hands—the dear lady—a heavy sob permitted her not to say more. Mrs. Smith, with clasped fingers and uplifted eyes, as if imploring help from the only power which could give it, was kneeling down at the

bed's foot, tears in large drops trickling down her cheeks. Her nurse was kneeling between the widow and Mrs. Smith, her arms extended. In one hand she held an ineffectual cordial which she had just been offering her dying mistress; her face was swollen with weeping (though used to such scenes as this); and she turned her eyes towards me, as if she called upon me by them to join in the helpless sorrow, a fresh stream bursting from them as I approached the bed.

The maid of the house with her face upon her folded arms, as she stood leaning against the wainscot, more audibly expressed her grief than any of the others. The lady had been silent a few minutes, and speechless, as they thought, moving her lips without uttering a word; one hand, as I said, in her cousin's. But when Mrs. Lovick, on my approach, pronounced my name-O Mr. Belford, said she, with a faint inward voice, but very distinct nevertheless-Now-Now-(in broken periods she spoke). I bless God for his mercies to his poor creature-all will soon be over-a few-a very few moments-will end the strife—and I shall be happy. Comfort here, sir (turning her head to the Colonel)-comfort my cousin see! the blame-able kindness-he would not wish me to be happy so soon! Here she stopped for two or three minutes, earnestly looking upon him. Then resuming-My dearest cousin, said she, be comforted-what is dying but the common lot? The mortal frame may seem to labourbut that is all!-It is not so hard to die as I believed it to be. The preparation is the difficulty-I bless God I have had time for that-the rest is worse to beholders than to me! I am all blessed hope-hope itself. She looked what she said, a sweet smile beaming over her countenance.

After a short silence-Once more, my dear cousin, said she, but still in broken accents, commend me most dutifully to my father and mother.-There she stopped. And then proceeding-To my sister, to my brother, to my uncles-and tell them, I bless them with my parting breath -for all their goodness to me—even for their displeasure, I bless them-most happy has been to me my punishment here! Happy indeed! She was silent for a few moments,

N

lifting up her eyes, and the hand her cousin held not between his. Then O death! said she, where is thy sting! (the words I remember to have heard in the burial-service read over my uncle and poor Belton). And after a pause— It is good for me that I was afflicted! Words of Scripture,

I suppose. Then turning towards us, who were lost in speechless sorrow-O dear, dear gentlemen, said she, you know not what foretastes,-what assurances-and there she again stopped, and looked up as if in a thankful rapture, sweetly smiling.

Then turning her head towards me-Do you, sir, tell your friend that I forgive him! And I pray to God to forgive him! Again pausing, and lifting up her eyes, as if praying that he would. Let him know how happily I die :—and that, such as my own, I wish to be his last hour. She was again silent a few moments: and then resuming— My sight fails me !-Your voices only-(for we both applauded her Christian, her divine frame, though in accents as broken as her own) and the voice of grief is alike in all. Is not this Mr. Morden's hand? pressing one of his with that he had just let go-Which is Mr. Belford's ?

holding out the other. I gave her mine. God Almighty bless you both, said she, and make you both-in your last hour-for you must come to this-happy as I am.

She paused again, her breath growing shorter; and after a few minutes-And now, my dearest cousin, give me your hand-nearer- —still nearer-drawing it towards her; and she pressed it with her dying lips-God protect you, dear, dear sir, and once more receive my best and most grateful thanks--and tell my dear Miss Howe, and vouchsafe to see and to tell my worthy Norton-she will be one day, I fear not, though now lowly in her fortunes, a saint in heaven-tell them both that I remember them with thankful blessings in my last moments! And pray God to give them happiness here for many, many years for the sake of their friends and lovers; and a heavenly crown hereafter; and such assurances of it, as I have, through the all-satisfying merits of our blessed Redeemer.

Her sweet voice and broken periods methinks still fill my ears, and never will be out of my memory. And after

a short silence, in a more broken and faint accent-And you, Mr. Belford, pressing my hand, may God preserve you, and make you sensible of all your errors-you see, in me, how all ends-may you be-and down sank her head upon her pillow, she fainting away and drawing from us her hands. We thought she was then gone; and each gave way to a violent burst of grief. But soon showing signs of returning life, our attention was again engaged; and I besought her, when a little recovered, to complete in my favour her half-pronounced blessing. She waved her hand to us both, and bowed her head six times, as we have since recollected, as if distinguishing every person present; not forgetting the nurse and the maid-servant; the latter having approached the bed, weeping, as if crowding in for the divine lady's last blessing; and she spake falteringly and inwardly-Bless-bless-bless you all-and-now-and now-(holding up her almost lifeless hands for the last time) come-O come— e-Blessed Lord Jesus! And with these words, the last but half-pronounced, expired:—such a smile, such a charming serenity overspreading her sweet face at the instant, as seemed to manifest her eternal happiness already begun. O Lovelace!-But I can write no more!

FIELDING

(OUTLINE HISTORY, § 75)

THE COMIC ROMANCE

(From Adventures of Joseph Andrews: Preface).

As it is possible the mere English reader may have a different idea of romance with the author of these little volumes,1 and may consequently expect a kind of entertainment not to be found, nor which was even intended, in the following pages; it may not be improper to premise a few words concerning this kind of writing, which I do not remember to have seen hitherto attempted in our language. The EPIC, as well as the DRAMA, is divided into tragedy

1

Joseph Andrews was originally published in two volumes.