yron had to say to
Sir Charles on the subject, and what advice her relations bestowed upon
Miss Byron. Then we have all the sentiments of Sir Charles Grandison's
sisters, and of his brothers-in-law, and of his reverend old tutor; and
the sentiments of all the Lady Clementina's family, and the incidental
remarks of a number of subordinate actors. In short, we see the
characters all round in all their relations to each other, in every
possible variation and permutation; we are present at all the
discussions which take place before every step, and watch the gradual
variation of all the phases of the positions. We get the same sort of
elaborate familiarity with every aspect of affairs that we should
receive from reading a blue-book full of some prolix diplomatic
correspondence; indeed, Sir Charles Grandison closely resembles such a
blue-book, for the plot is carried on mainly by elaborate negotiations
between three different families, with proposals, and counter-proposals,
and amended proposals, and a final settlement of the very complicated
business by a deliberate signing of two different sets of articles. One
of them, we need hardly say, is a marriage settlement; the other is a
definite treaty between the lady who is not married and her family, the
discussion of which occupies many pages. The extent to which we are
drawn into the minutest details may be inferred from the fact that
nearly a volume is given to marrying Sir Charles Grandison to Miss
Byron, after all difficulties have been surmounted. We have at full
length all the discussions by which the day is fixed, and all the
remarks of the unfortunate lovers of both parties, and all the
criticisms of both families, and finally an elaborate account of the
ceremony, with the names of the persons who went in the separate
coaches, the dresses of the bride and bridesmaids, and the sums which
Sir Charles gave away to the village girls who strewed flowers on the
pathway. Surely the feminine element in Richardson's character was a
little in excess.

The result of all this is a sort of Dutch painting of extraordinary
minuteness. The art reminds us of the patient labour of a line-engraver,
who works for days at making out one little bit of minute stippling and
cross-hatching. The characters are displayed to us step by step and line
by line. We are gradually forced into familiarity with them by a process
resembling that by which we learn to know people in real life. We are
trea