Book XI - Page 2

with lively but veiled touches of the pencil, which could not but
give pleasure there, because the persons who frequent it are more
accustomed than others to discover them. A distinction must, however, be
made. The work is by no means proper for the species of men of wit who
have nothing but cunning, who possess no other kind of discernment than
that which penetrates evil, and see nothing where good only is to be
found. If, for instance, Eloisa had been published in a certain country,
I am convinced it would not have been read through by a single person,
and the work would have been stifled in its birth.

I have collected most of the letters written to me on the subject of this
publication, and deposited them, tied up together, in the hands of Madam
de Nadillac. Should this collection ever be given to the world, very
singular things will be seen, and an opposition of opinion, which shows
what it is to have to do with the public. The thing least kept in view,
and which will ever distinguish it from every other work, is the
simplicity of the subject and the continuation of the interest, which,
confined to three persons, is kept up throughout six volumes, without
episode, romantic adventure, or anything malicious either in the persons
or actions. Diderot complimented Richardson on the prodigious variety of
his portraits and the multiplicity of his persons. In fact, Richardson
has the merit of having well characterized them all; but with respect to
their number, he has that in common with the most insipid writers of
novels who attempt to make up for the sterility of their ideas by
multiplying persons and adventures. It is easy to awaken the attention
by incessantly presenting unheard of adventures and new faces, which pass
before the imagination as the figures in a magic lanthorn do before the
eye; but to keep up that attention to the same objects, and without the
aid of the wonderful, is certainly more difficult; and if, everything
else being equal, the simplicity of the subject adds to the beauty of the
work, the novels of Richardson, superior in so many other respects,
cannot in this be compared to mine. I know it is already forgotten,
and the cause of its being so; but it will be taken up again. All my
fear was that, by an extreme simplicity, the narrative would be
fatiguing, and that it was not sufficiently interesting to engage the
attention throughout the whole. I was relieved from this apprehension by
a circumstance which alone was more flattering to my pride than all the
compliments made me upon the work.

It appeared at the beginning of the carnival; a hawker carried it to the
Princess of Talmont--[It was not the princess, but some other lady,
whose name I do not know.]--on the evening of a ball night