Sogni e favole io fingo, e pure in carte
    Mentre favole, e sogni, orno e disegno,
    In lor, (folle ch’ io son!) prendo tal parte
    Che del mal che inventai piango, e mi sdegno. 
    Ma forse allor che non m’ inganna l’arte,
    Piu saggio io sono e l’agitato ingegno
    Forse allo piu tranquillo?  O forse parte
    Da piu salda cagion l’amor, lo sdegno? 
    Ah che non sol quelle, ch’io canto, o scrivo
    Favole son; ma quanto temo, o spero,
    Tutt’ e manzogna, e delirando io vivo! 
    Sogno della mia vita e il corso intero. 
    Deh tu, Signor, quando a destarmi arrivo
    Fa, ch’io trovi riposo in sen del VERO.

In 1733, the Author, composing his Olimpiade, felt himself suddenly moved, even to tears, in expressing the separation of two tender lovers.  Surprised that a fictitious grief, invented too by himself, could raise so true a passion, he reflected how little reasonable and solid a foundation the others had, which, so frequently agitated us in this state of our existence.

SONNET—­IMITATED.

    Fables and dreams I feign; yet though but verse
      The dreams and fables that adorn this scroll,
    Fond fool!  I rave, and grieve as I rehearse;
      While GENUINE TEARS for FANCIED SORROWS roll. 
    Perhaps the dear delusion of my heart
      Is wisdom; and the agitated mind,
    As still responding to each plaintive part,
    With love and rage, a tranquil hour can find. 
    Ah! not alone the tender RHYMES I give
      Are fictions:  but my FEARS and HOPES I deem
    Are FABLES all; deliriously I live,
      And life’s whole course is one protracted dream. 
    Eternal Power! when shall I wake to rest
      This wearied brain on TRUTH’S immortal breast?

RICHARDSON.

The censure which the Shakspeare of novelists has incurred for the tedious procrastination and the minute details of his fable; his slow unfolding characters, and the slightest gestures of his personages, is extremely unjust; for is it not evident that we could not have his peculiar excellences without these accompanying defects?  When characters are fully delineated, the narrative must be suspended.  Whenever the narrative is rapid, which so much delights superficial readers, the characters cannot be very minutely featured; and the writer who aims to instruct (as Richardson avowedly did) by the glow and eloquence of his feelings, must often sacrifice to this his local descriptions.  Richardson himself has given us the principle that guided him in composing.  He tells us, “If I give speeches and conversations, I ought to give them justly; for the humours and characters of persons cannot be known unless I repeat what they say, and their manner of saying.”

Foreign critics have been more just to Richardson than many of his own countrymen.  I shall notice the opinions of three celebrated writers, D’Alembert, Rousseau, and Diderot.