attention of the House to an evil, which is perhaps more to be
apprehended when an author's copyright remains in the hands of
his family, than when it is transferred to booksellers. I
seriously fear that, if such a measure as this should be adopted,
many valuable works will be either totally suppressed or
grievously mutilated. I can prove that this danger is not
chimerical; and I am quite certain that, if the danger be real,
the safeguards which my honourable and learned friend has devised
are altogether nugatory. That the danger is not chimerical may
easily be shown. Most of us, I am sure, have known persons who,
very erroneously as I think, but from the best motives, would not
choose to reprint Fielding's novels, or Gibbon's History of the
Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. Some gentlemen may perhaps
be of opinion that it would be as well if Tom Jones and Gibbon's
History were never reprinted. I will not, then, dwell on these
or similar cases. I will take cases respecting which it is not
likely that there will be any difference of opinion here; cases,
too, in which the danger of which I now speak is not matter of
supposition, but matter of fact. Take Richardson's novels.
Whatever I may, on the present occasion, think of my honourable
and learned friend's judgment as a legislator, I must always
respect his judgment as a critic. He will, I am sure, say that
Richardson's novels are among the most valuable, among the most
original works in our language. No writings have done more to
raise the fame of English genius in foreign countries. No
writings are more deeply pathetic. No writings, those of
Shakspeare excepted, show more profound knowledge of the human
heart. As to their moral tendency, I can cite the most
respectable testimony. Dr Johnson describes Richardson as one
who had taught the passions to move at the command of virtue. My