Fictions of Friendship in the Eighteenth-Century Novel

NOTES

CHAPTER 1 1. Samuel Richardson, Selected Letters of Samuel Richardson, ed. John Carroll (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1964), 66–67. 2. Richardson, Selected Letters, 65. 3. Richardson, Selected Letters, 65. 4. Bradshaigh to Richardson, 25 September, 1753, Forster Collection Manuscripts, Victoria and Albert Museum, XI, f. 26v. All future citations appear as Forster MSS. 5. Denis Diderot, “Eulogy of Richardson” in Clarissa: The Eighteenth Century Response: 1747–1804: Volume 1, Reading Clarissa, ed. Lois Bueler (New York: AMS Press, Inc. 2010), 393. 6. Diderot, “Eulogy of Richardson,” 395. 7. Diderot, “Eulogy of Richardson,” 398. As Mary Helen McMurran observes, the initial problems with Prevost’s translation seemed to provoke a connection between ﬁdelity of translation and ﬁdelity to the sentimental heroine. Richardson himself called Prevost’s translation a “mutilation,” a label that in McMurran’s words, “deploy[s] the thematic of the novel itself to hint that injuries to the text are an immoral violation of the heroine’s body.” See McMurran, The Spread of Novels: Translation and Prose Fiction in the Eighteenth Century (Princeton and Oxford: Princeton University Press, 2010), 123–124. Although McMurran does not focus on the discourse of friendship, she reads Diderot’s “Eloge” as envisioning a “spatial and

© The Author(s) 2017 217 B. Mangano, Fictions of Friendship in the Eighteenth-Century Novel, Palgrave Studies in the Enlightenment, Romanticism and the Cultures of Print, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-48695-6 218 NOTES

temporal universality of readership” (The Spread of Novels, 127), an angle I also explore through the narrower scope of language pertaining to amity. 8. Georg Lukács, The Theory of the Novel: A Historico-Philosophical Essay on the Forms of Great Epic Literature, trans. Anna Bostock (Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 1971), 67. Lukács contrasts the novel’s necessary reflexivity, ironic self-reference, and formal self-justification with the epic voice’s confidence in the cultural context to ensure the transmission of meaning, which appears textually as indifference toward the responsiveness of the audience. 9. Ronald. A. Sharp, Friendship and Literature: Spirit and Form (Durham, North Carolina: Duke University Press, 1986), 9, 51. Sharp’s argument is that friendship, like literature, requires mediation of both creative forms and rituals, despite the fact that the rhetoric of modern friendship is often plagued by fallacious idioms of pure expressivity and total transparency. Throughout the book, Sharp links various authors who have represented the necessity of drawing on form in creative ways to forge successful friendships. I entirely concur with Sharp’s emphasis on the role of mediating forms, but I focus more directly on the reciprocity between an author’s depiction of creative friendships and their own creative engagement with audiences. 10. Wayne Booth, The Rhetoric of Fiction, 2nd ed. (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1983), 218. 11. Henry Fielding, The History of Tom Jones, A Foundling, ed. Sheridan Baker (New York: Norton, 1995), 595. 12. Fielding, Tom Jones, 596. 13. See also Booth, The Company We Keep: An Ethics of Fiction (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1988). In this text, Booth sketches out a methodology for evaluating literary forms on the basis of their proffered friendship. Booth’s treatment of friendship is partly Aristotelian, partly his own amalgamation of ethical virtues. While I also owe great debts to this work, I am here pursuing an historically situated discussion of what defines friendship ideals in the eighteenth century. 14. Laurence Sterne, The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman, ed. Melvin New and Joan New, The Florida Edition of the Works of Laurence Sterne, vols 1 and 2 (Gainesville: University of Florida Press, 1978), 9. Future in-text page references are to this edition. 15. Lukács, Theory of the Novel, 76. 16. Roland Barthes, S/Z, trans. Richard Miller (New York: Hill and Wang, 1974), 20. 17. Garrett Stewart, Dear Reader: The Conscripted Audience in Nineteenth- Century British Fiction (Baltimore and London: The John Hopkins University Press, 1996), 16. NOTES 219

18. Naomi Tadmor, Family and Friends in Eighteenth-Century England: Household, Kinship, and Patronage (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2001). 19. In the final part of her study, Tadmor discusses but deals briefly with the legacy of classical friendship norms in eighteenth-century life. Tadmor, Family and Friends, 239–245. 20. Jacques Derrida, The Politics of Friendship, trans. George Collins (New York: Verso, 1997). 21. Laurie Shannon, Sovereign Amity: Figures of Friendship in Shakespearean Contexts (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2002), 9. 22. Shannon, Sovereign Amity,8. 23. Tadmor, Family and Friends, 239–245.Tadmor reveals how the seventeenth-century theologian Jeremy Taylor’s treatise on friendship, widely read throughout the eighteenth century by authors and general readers, embodies precisely this effort to synthesize Christian and classical friendship ideals with various spheres of eighteenth-century life. 24. Janet Todd, Women’s Friendship in Literature (New York: Columbia University Press, 1980). 25. Todd, Women’s Friendship,3. 26. Although manipulative and erotic friendship often stand in tension with idealizations of friendship, they also serve to shadow the pursuit of friendships that are defined against eroticism (Chapter 5), that are paranoid about deception (Chapter 4), and that depend on deception for didactic purposes (Chapter 2). 27. Clifford Siskin and William B. Warner, “This is Enlightenment: An Invitation in the Form of an Argument” in This is Enlightenment, ed. Clifford Siskin and William B. Warner (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2010), 1–33. 28. Siskin and Warner, “This is Enlightenment,” 32–33. 29. Marta Kvande, “Printed in a Book: Negotiating Print and Manuscript Cultures in Fantomina and Clarissa,” Eighteenth-Century Studies 46.2 (2013): 240. 30. Lori Nandrea, Misfit Forms: Paths Not Taken by the British Novel (New York: Fordham University Press, 2014). 31. Jody Greene, “Captain Singleton: An Epic of Mitsein?” The Eighteenth- Century: Theory and Interpretation 52.3–4 (2011): 403–421. 32. Michael McKeon, The Origins of the English Novel: 1600–1740 (Baltimore: John Hopkins University Press, 1987). In McKeon’s well-known account, questions of truth reflect a dialectic between romance, empiricism and skepticism, and questions of virtue reflect a dialectic between aristocracy, progressive individualism, and conservatism. The quixotic idealism of many eighteenth-century 220 NOTES

friendships may seem to fit under the heading of “romance idealism,” but McKeon’s dialectic of virtue does not implicitly accommodate the presence of friendship ideals and their influence on narrative forms. His notion of conservative ideology, as a tenuous negation of both aristocratic and progressive ideologies, offers the closest approximation; though, even in this case, it is not clear that conservative ideology, in its association with “extreme skepticism,” can account for the faith that binds characters in friendship. The value of a collectiv- ity without hierarchy or kinship often presented by the period’s friendship ideals does not fit neatly into the categories of virtue that McKeon offers. 33. Ronald Paulson, Don Quixote in England: The Aesthetics of Laughter (Baltimore: John Hopkins Press, 1998); Scott Paul Gordon, ThePracticeofQuixotism:Post- Modern Theory and Eighteenth-Century Women’sWriting(New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2006); Susan Staves, “Don Quixote in Eighteenth-Century England,” Comparative Literature 24.3 (1972): 193–215. 34. Gordon, The Practice of Quixotism,34–40. 35. J.G.A. Pocock, The Machiavellian Moment: Florentine Political Thought and the Atlantic Republican Tradition (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1975); Virtue, Commerce, and History: Essays on Political Thought and History, Chiefly in the Eighteenth Century (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1985). 36. Emrys D. Jones, Friendship and Allegiance in Eighteenth-Century Literature: The Politics of Private Virtue in the Age of Walpole (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2013). 37. Catherine Gallagher observes that literary authorship in mid-eighteenth- century Britain becomes less explicitly political as women authors help to transform scandal and political allegory into fictions about “nobodies.” Thus, the general de-politicization of fictional characters makes the notion of readers “befriending” a character appear politically neutral, or at least non-partisan. See especially Gallagher’s discussion of Delarivier Manley and Charlotte Lennox in Chapters 3 and 4 of Nobody’s Story: The Vanishing Acts of Women Writers in the Marketplace, 1670–1820 (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1994). 38. The economic relation between authors and readers is almost always less direct than the implied virtual friendship cultivated by the rhetoric of fiction. In each case study, I attend to the differing professional circumstances that underlie the rhetoric of amity. 39. Allan Silver, “Friendship in Commercial Society: Eighteenth-Century Social Theory and Modern Sociology,” American Journal of Sociology 95.6 (1990): 1479. Silver bases his argument primarily on the writings of Adam Smith, David Hume, Francis Hutcheson, and Adam Ferguson. Of course, even this notion of the individual as an end-in-itself, detached from commerce, must be thoroughly scrutinized. NOTES 221

40. Tadmor argues that Richardson’s depicted “dislocation” of friendship ideals from family relations is designed as a warning to encourage readers to foster family friendships. See Tadmor, Family and Friends, 259–271. While Tadmor notes how the eighteenth-century terminology differs from the contemporary distinction we now make between family and friends, the conﬂation persists into the nineteenth century. The tensions between friends and family that often register in eighteenth-century ﬁctions may foreshadow the conceptual separation in a more distant future. More importantly, for my purposes, these tensions represent a longstanding antagonism between the persistent classical discourse of ideal friendship and the obligations of kinship. 41. Nancy Armstrong, Desire and Domestic Fiction: A Political History of the Novel (New York: Oxford University Press, 1987). 42. Michael McKeon, The Secret History of Domesticity: Public, Private, and the Division of Knowledge (Baltimore: John Hopkins University Press, 2005). 43. Jürgen Habermas, The Structural Transformation of the Public Sphere: an Inquiry into a Category of Bourgeois Society, trans. Thomas Burger with the assistance of Frederick Lawrence (Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 1989), 46– 47. An attention to the ideological work of friendship also destabilizes the methodology that pits individuals against society as totalized abstractions (Lukács, Watt, McKeon, Bender). Just as ideal friendship challenges the social privilege of domesticity, it challenges notions of individual autonomy central to emerging political and economic theories. In different ways, Watt, Bender, Armstrong, and McKeon speak to the novel’s role in facilitating the authority of individual experience. My approach especially builds on McKeon’s methodology of exploring how narratives work ideologically by linking systems of fact and value. By acknowledging the importance of friendship ties, however, I seek to qualify one of McKeon’s principal conclusions about the dialectical constitution of the genre: that it results in the separation of self from society as ideological abstractions. As he argues, “the autonomy of the self consists in its capacity to enter into largely negative relation with the society it vainly conceives itself to have created, to resist its encroachments and to be constructed by them.” In this view, the alienation of the individual from society (the struggle between resisting and conform- ing to social norms) becomes a characteristic feature of the novel from mid- century onward. While such tensions are central to the novel genre, I call attention to the importance of ideal friendship as a recurring abstraction pertinent to narrative mediation, one that grounds the connection between facts and values, and mediates between self and society in a way that mitigates the hero’s autonomy or alienation. 44. Several studies point to the link between philosophical models of sympathy and the cultural and economic centrality of domesticity. See McKeon, Secret 222 NOTES

History, 376–381, and Gallagher, Nobody’s Story, 167–174. Gallagher and McKeon highlight the ways in which the philosophies of Adam Smith and David Hume connect sympathetic cognition to one’s feelings toward kin, the proximity of domestic intercourse, and property rights.

CHAPTER 2 1. James Beattie, Dissertations moral and critical. On memory and imagination. On dreaming. The theory of language. On fable and romance. On the attachments of kindred. Illustrations on sublimity. By James Beattie, LL. D. Professor of Moral Philosophy and Logick in the Marischal College and University of Aberdeen; and Member of the Zealand Society of Arts and Sciences. London, MDCCLXXXIII. [1783]. Eighteenth Century Collections Online. Gale. Grinnell College. 17 August 2016. http://find.galegroup.com.grinnell. idm.oclc.org/ecco/infomark.do?&source=gale&prodId=ECCO &userGroupName=grin67026&tabID=T001&docId=CW3319057601 &type=multipage&contentSet=ECCOArticles&version=1.0&docLevel= FASCIMILE. Gale Document Number: CW3319057601. 2. See Lukács, The Theory of the Novel, 67. See also M.M. Bakhtin, “The Epic and the Novel: Towards a Methodology for the Study in the Novel” in The Dialogic Imagination, ed. Michael Holquist (Austin: University of Texas Press, 1981). 3. The Spectator. Donald F. Bond, ed. 5 vols. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1965), I, 289. All future in-text references are to this edition. 4. Samuel Johnson, The Idler and the Adventurer, ed. W.J. Bate, John M. Bullitt, and L.F. Powell, Yale Edition of the Works of Samuel Johnson (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1963), 201–204. 5. Johnson, Idler and Adventurer, 204. 6. From James Boswell and Samuel Johnson’s, A Journey to the Western Islands of Scotland, and Boswell’s Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides with Samuel Johnson (1785), ed. R.W. Chapman (London: Oxford University Press, 1924) quoted in Roy Porter, Enlightenment: Britain and The Creation of the Modern World (London: The Penguin Press, 2000), 84–85. 7. As Roy Porter suggests, Johnson’s position is likely inflected by his recent personal experiences with patronage, particularly his unsuccessful solicita- tion of assistance from Lord Chesterfield. In The Celebrated letter from Samuel Johnson, LLD to Philip Dormer Stanhope, Earl of Chesterfield (1790), a jilted Johnson later wrote to Chesterfield, “Is not a Patron, my Lord, one who looks with unconcern on a Man struggling for Life in the water and when he has reached ground encumbers him with help?” (Enlightenment, 85). NOTES 223

8. Anne Louise Germaine de Staël, Considerations on the Principal Events of the French Revolution, ed. Aurelian Craiutu (Indianapolis: Liberty Fund, 2008), 450. 9. Although Staël has journalistic writing and political debates in mind, her account conveys a sense of the English public that overlaps not just with connections between the intimacies of friendship and transparency of character in fictions, but also with the way novelists conceived of and sought to persuade their audiences. 10. I do not mean to undervalue Plato’sinfluence on eighteenth-century friendship ideals, but I grant Aristotle’s treatment of friendship more attention partly because it contains within itself materials elaborated by Plato, partly because Aristotle takes a more distinct and affirmative stance on friendship, and partly because his formulations echo more transparently within early modern iterations of ideal friendship, such as in the works of Francis Bacon and Michel de Montaigne. 11. Aristotle, The Nichomachean Ethics in The Works of Aristotle, Translated into English Under the Editorship of W.D. Ross (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1908–1952), v.9, 1156a6–1157b4. 12. Aristotle, Nichomachean Ethics, 1155b34–1156a6; 1159a14–37. 13. Aristotle, Nichomachean Ethics, 1156b6–36; 1159b25–1161b11. Although Aristotle intends to present a decisive and resolute case, critics have noted inconsistencies in his treatment of communal friendship and the value he places on intellectual solitude. As we shall see throughout this study, the tensions inherent in each of these questions are revived and developed through the energetic expansion of “Enlightenment” media filtered by the novel genre’s unique engagement with the public. See Lorraine Smith Pangle, Aristotle and the Philosophy of Friendship (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002), 7. I am also indebted to Pangle’s discussion of Aristotle’s response to Plato in Chapter 2 of the same book, “The Three Kinds of Friendship” (37–56). For additional discussion of Aristotle’s inconsistencies, see David Bostock, Aristotle’s Ethics (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000), 179–186; Sarah Broadie, Ethics with Aristotle (New York: Oxford University Press, 1991), 372, 379; and J.L. Ackrill, “Aristotle on Eudaimonia” in Essays on Aristotle’s Ethics, ed. Amélie Oksenberg Rorty (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1980), 15–34. Various essays in Rorty’s collection deal with unresolved tensions in Aristotle’s account of philia. 14. Derrida, Politics of Friendship,5. 15. Derrida, Politics of Friendship, 12. 16. Offering a related interpretation of Western friendship ideals, Giorgio Agamben views Aristotle’s treatment of friendship in the Nichomachean 224 NOTES

Ethics as a foundation of modern politics, seeing the distinction Aristotle makes between humans and animals as central to the development of modern democratic institutions. He differs from Derrida, however, in focus- ing on Aristotelian friendship as an ontological formulation. In Agamben’s reading of Aristotle, the friend is not just an “other self” (heteros autos), but an essential otherness within the self: the consciousness of the friend lies at the heart of one’s ability to sense the “sweetness” of one’s existence, the basic fact that living is a good thing. All such sensation is “con-senting,” or sensing together. Before one recognizes friendship as fraternal, familial or non-familial through social experience, friendship defines one’s relationship to an unspecified other, or rather, an other specified only to the degree that he or she stimulates the “con-senting” appreciation of being alive. This ontological reading of Aristotle’s friendship brings amity into closer alignment with the Heideggerian notion of Mitsein, a tie which is more generalized and common than what is typically associated with idealizations of personal friendship. Giorgio Agamben, What is an Apparatus? and Other Essays, trans. David Kishik and Stefan Pedatella. (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2009), 34–36. 17. See the first chapter of Theodor Adorno and Max Horkheimer’s Dialectic of Enlightenment (New York: Continuum, 1982). More recently, Bacon serves as the starting point for Clifford Siskin and William B. Warner’sco- authored Introduction to This is Enlightenment,1–33. Although Bacon’s writing on friendship does not bear an overt link to his reflections on knowledge systems and natural philosophy, features of his essays on friendship correlate with his broader standing vis-à-vis classical and modern forms of knowledge. This is not the place for an extensive exploration of the interplay between epistemologies of friendship and science within Bacon’s thought, but it is worth bearing in mind the way his epistemology of self (via friendship) and nature both rely on systems of interpersonal mediation to root out error. 18. The essay appears in Plutarch’s Moralia, a work of collected essays that both Bacon and Montaigne knew and referenced. 19. Sir Francis Bacon, “Of Followers and Friends,” in A Harmony of the Essays,ed. Edward Arber. (1597; Westminster: A. Constable and Co., 1895), 36–38. 20. Aristotle, Magna Moralia in The Works of Aristotle, Translated into English Under the Editorship of W.D. Ross (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1908–1952), v.9, 1213a17–19. 21. Aristotle, Magna Moralia, 1213a20–24. 22. As the author notes, the mirror produces a sentiment comparable to the reflection: “Here is another Heracles, a dear other self” (Magna Moralia, 1213a13–4). 23. Bacon, “Of Friendship” (1625) in A Harmony of the Essays, 175–177. NOTES 225

24. Bacon, “Of Friendship,” 173–175. 25. Montaigne’s discussion of friendship receives extensive treatment in Derrida’s Politics of Friendship. Rather than retreading this ground, I will only call attention to those aspects of Montaigne’s approach that provide the most illuminating counterpoint to Bacon’s writings, to further clarify the historical significance of Bacon’s presentation of this subject. See Derrida, The Politics of Friendship, 184, for a discussion of how this contradictory construction of friendship takes root from classical philia. 26. Michel de Montaigne, The Complete Essays of Montaigne, trans. Donald M. Frame (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1965). 27. Derrida, Politics of Friendship, 179. 28. Jones compellingly demonstrates that the politics of friendship were unstable and contradictory, with both Whigs and Tories opportunistically taking positions for and against the mixing of politics and friendships. He shows how private friendships have a deep political significance for many Tory writers through the mid-century (Friendship and Allegiance,21–52). 29. Maurer’s characterization of mid-century “sentimental friendships” serves to set up her analysis of more revolutionary authors of the 1790s who lay bare the class tensions inherent in this quixotic illusion of friendship. While Maurer suggests that women become ciphers in the triangulation of sentimental male relationships, she does not address sentimental female friendships or whether such relationships equally reflect depoliticization. While I contend that even these sentimental friendships express latent political impulses, the narrative I present concurs with Maurer’s, insofar as I take up Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein as a more overtly political statement about friendship. See Maurer, “The Politics of Masculinity in the 1790s Radical Novel: Hugh Trevor, Caleb Williams, and the Romance of Sentimental Friendship” in Enlightening Romanticism, Romancing the Enlightenment: British Novels from 1750 to 1832, ed. Miriam L. Wallace (Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2009), 87–110. 30. These ends and the social reforms they entail may have specific partisan implications nonetheless. 31. Eve Tavor Bannet, Empire of Letters: Letter Manuals and Transatlantic Correspondence, 1688–1820 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005), 28–29, 59–61. 32. For a discussion of this tension in general and within the private letters of several authors, see Bruce Redford, The Converse of the Pen: Acts of Intimacy in the Eighteenth-Century Familiar Letter (Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press, 1986). 33. For studies of male epistolary friendship, see George E. Haggerty, Horace Walpole’s Letters: Masculinity and Friendship in the Eighteenth Century (Lewisberg: Bucknell University Press, 2011); and Raymond Stephanson, 226 NOTES

“‘Epicoene Friendship’: Understanding Male Friendship in the Early Eighteenth Century, with Some Speculations about Pope.” The Eighteenth Century 38.2 (1997): 151–170. Lady Bradshaigh’s imitation of Cicero (discussed in Chapter 1), is an example of the way friendship codes might signify a distinctly gendered context and nonetheless be appropriated by the opposite sex. 34. See Paul Trolander and Zeynep Tenger, Sociable Criticism in England: 1625–1725 (Newark: University of Delaware Press, 2007), 15–27. The authors discuss the important role that a rhetoric of friendship plays in the late seventeenth-century and early eighteenth-century practice of submitting literary works to coterie audiences for approval or judgment before publication. This work discusses how this practice of private praise and “reproof,” associated with the counsel of friendship, evolves alongside the rise of public literary reviewers in the mid-eighteenth century. 35. See Margaret F. Rosenthal, “Fashions of Friendship in an Early Modern Illustrated Album Amicorum: British Library, MS Egerton 1191,” Journal of Medieval and Early Modern Studies 39.3 (2009): 619–641. 36. While friendship books appear to evolve out of the practice of autograph books, traceable back to sixteenth-century Germany, they also reﬂect eighteenth-century perceptions of interpersonal relationships in the “age of sensibility,” and often work to document reading experiences. For two instances of eighteenth-century friendship books, see “Libri Amicorum: Friendship and Autographs.” Anne Wagner. Untitled Manuscript. New York Public Library Digital Gallery. Web. 29 March 2013; and “The Unique Friendship Book of Rev. James Stanier Clark (1765–1834).” James Stanier Clark. Untitled Manuscript. Art Works Gallery. Web. 29 March 2013. http://www.artworksgallery.co.uk. 37. William B. Warner, Licensing Entertainment: The Elevation of Novel Reading in Britain, 1684–1750 (Berkeley and Los Angeles, University of California Press, 1998). 38. Warner, Licensing Entertainment, 115 39. At the same time, the resemblance between these two scenarios underscores the familial and racial paternalism that impairs Defoe’s conception of dialogue; while the child’s and Friday’s questions are integral, only the father and Crusoe can formulate answers. 40. Daniel Defoe, Robinson Crusoe, ed. Evan R. Davis (Ontario: Broadview, 2010), 60. 41. As Crusoe remarks, “I was in a Condition which I scarce knew how to understand, or how to compose myself, for the Enjoyment of it” (Robinson Crusoe, 287). 42. Defoe, Robinson Crusoe, 287. NOTES 227

43. Jody Greene, “Captain Singleton: An Epic of Mitsein?” 403–421. Greene discusses the relationship between Bob and William as both a friendship and an instance of Mitsein. Greene may not wish to entirely conflate personal friendship with the more general philosophical notions of Heidegger’s “being-with,” or analogously Agamben’s “con-senting,” but she does not make any overt distinction. While I also see value in connecting ideal friendship to these concepts, I would only note that because these terms define the conditions of human existence and the possibility of community on the most fundamental level of language and consciousness, they do not capture the full range of problems that eighteenth-century authors explore by way of ideal friendship, conceived as bonds between particularized individuals consciously striving for a specific form of ethical practice 44. Daniel Defoe, The Life, Adventures, and Pyracies of the Famous Captain Singleton (London: Oxford University Press, 1969), 258. 45. In separate studies, Stephen Gregg and Emrys Jones take a skeptical view of this friendship, seeing it as lacking in any broader public dimensions and of appropriating the language of friendship in the service of self-interested financial advancement. On the contrary, Greene sees the relationship as a model of community beyond anything else in Defoe’s fiction, and Hans Turley sees it as both an erotic friendship and one that transcends “economic diction.” See Gregg, “Singleton, Friendship, and Secrecy” in Defoe’s Writing and Manliness: Contrary Men (Farnham, England, Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2009), 113–130; Jones, Friendship and Allegiance,38–52; Turley, “Solemn Imprecations and Curses: Captain Singleton’s Search for Identity” in Rum, Sodomy and the Lash: Piracy, Sexuality and Masculine Identity (New York: New York University Press, 1999), 109–127. 46. Defoe, Captain Singleton, 168. 47. Defoe, Captain Singleton, 272, 274. 48. Defoe, Captain Singleton, 270. 49. Defoe, Captain Singleton, 260, 262. 50. Defoe, Captain Singleton, 269. 51. Defoe, Captain Singleton, 276. The Oxford edition follows the original text, which reads “I was a Roman Catholick.” This phrase seems to be an error, given the logic of the sentence and the broader depiction of Singleton’s character. It has been amended in various modern editions. 52. Eugenia Jenkins, “Defoe’s Trinkets: Figuring Global Commerce in the Early Eighteenth Century” in Global Economies, Cultural Currencies of the Eighteenth Century (New York: AMS Press, 1992): 197–214. 53. As Jenkins also notes, Joseph Addison echoes Heylyn’s sentiment in his portrait of the Royal Exchange: “I am wonderfully delighted to see such a body of men thriving in their own private fortunes, and at the same time 228 NOTES

promoting the publick stock; or in other words, raising estates for their own families, by bringing into their country whatever is wanting, and carrying out of it whatever is superfluous ...Nature seems to have taken a particular care to disseminate her blessings among the different regions of the world, with an eye to this mutual intercourse and traffick among mankind, that the natives of the several parts of the globe might have a kind of dependence upon one another, and be united together by their common interest” (Spectator 69). Addison notably does not equate this “intercourse” with friendship, and he even distinguishes between his encounter with a personal friend at the Royal Exchange and an acquaintance from Egypt whom he cannot converse with due to language barriers. The public scene that Addison idealizes as peaceful and orderly international relationships might be contrasted with the Spectator passages quoted at the outset of this chapter, wherein Addison contrasts the communication of private friendship from large public groups. On the whole, Addison recognizes a “common interest” among the merchants at the Royal Exchange, but ultimately this common interest is merely a means, not an end; as in Defoe’s novels, the collective interest in maintaining channels of exchange is a means to the end of pursuing independent interests. 54. Jenkins offers a compelling reading of the encounter between Captain Singleton’s starving crew and the natives of Madagascar. Because the natives do not recognize the value of their money, the ship’s cutler transforms the metal coins into the shapes of “birds and beasts” for necklaces and bracelets, “trinkets” that have recognizable value for the natives and thereby allow the crew to barter for food. The irony here, as Jenkins perceives, is that the cutler has to devalue perfectly good money first to create the worthless trinkets, thereby undercutting the idea that they have traded the lesser for the greater goods. 55. Although Jenkins does not discuss Captain Singleton and William Walter’s relationship, her broader treatment of cross-cultural exchanges easily applies, by way of the friend-nation trope, to the translation of value in their personal relationships. While Bob and William share a belief in European currency, the question of mediating between the incommensur- able values of money and friendship figures centrally in their relationship, and likewise allegorizes the literary commodity’s mediation between aesthetic value and a novel’s price point in the marketplace. 56. As Jenkins demonstrates, the trinket does enact a kind of communication in serving to translate value between cultural systems. However, it is difficult to integrate this dynamic with friendship ideals, because it often requires that one side flatter itself into believing that it has tricked the other into taking worthless goods (even if from a critical perspective, we do not consider these goods worthless). As a model of personal friendship, it implies a method for NOTES 229

people to draw on resources from one another in pursuing their own private survival and value systems, but it does not place value systems into more dialogic confrontation or synthesis. Because the manufacturers of trinkets do not endorse the value of their own object, but only imagine its value for another in order to facilitate their trick, they are alienated from their own labor in producing that aesthetic object. In Captain Singleton, for instance, the crew views the necklaces and bracelets that they produced to barter for food in Madagascar purely in terms of their exchange value; they do not appreciate the objects for their aesthetic or imaginative function. Yet, even if they cannot share the value system of their native friends, they have to (temporarily and in a partial way) imaginatively put themselves in the position of the natives in crafting the object that will be valuable aesthetically to the natives; a failure to do this at least partially would make their trinkets unappealing. This model of friendship does not bear directly on the cases I discuss, but it presents an interesting alternative to the idealized intimacy and ethical solidarities that later authors turn toward. It would be a model that counters Adam Smith’s separation of economic and affective transactions in The Wealth of Nations, because it recognizes the extent to which any laborer, producer, or trader must engage in the kind of spectatorial sympathy with their potential counterpart or consumer (the kind of imaginative inhabitation of the other’s shoes that Smith discusses in the Theory of Moral Sentiments). By recognizing this mental inhabitation of other minds as an essential part of the commercial process, Defoe gestures toward a model of friendship wherein habit and unconscious inﬂuence can work to bring producer and consumer closer to an alignment in moral or aesthetic values, even in spite of the producer consciously taking a cynical view of their own product. The creator of the “trinket” (or novel as trinket) pretends only to engage in role playing as they imagine the value system of their trading “friend,” yet in working to create something of value for an other, the possibility arises for the producer’s imaginative performance to reshape them as performer. 57. John Guillory, “Enlightening Mediation” in This is Enlightenment, 46. 58. In the next chapter, I examine Richardson’s Clarissa to suggest how epistolary friendship, as telecommunication, reinforces the liberty, judgment, and reliability of amiable counsel, accentuating the super-mediational model of friendship held by Bacon and subsequent theologians. 59. See Josephine Greider’s Introduction to Elizabeth Singer Rowe, Friendship in Death (New York: Garland, 1972), 5–14. 60. John Richetti, Popular Fiction before Richardson: Narrative Patterns 1700– 1739 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1969), 259. Similarly, he quotes Samuel Johnson’s remark that Rowe’s book sought “to employ the ornaments of romance in the decoration of religion” (Popular Fiction, 246). While this characterization of Rowe’s book as repurposed amatory ﬁction has its 230 NOTES

merits, it stems partly from his lumping together of Friendship in Death with its often appended sequel Letters Moral and Entertaining, which mostly involves letters between the living. 61. Paula R. Backscheider, Elizabeth Singer Rowe and the Development of the English Novel (Baltimore: John Hopkins University Press, 2013), 60. Backscheider notes that at least 78 dialogues of this sort appear between 1641 and 1800, citing Frederick M. Keener’s English Dialogues of the Dead: A Critical History, an Anthology, and a Check List (New York: Columbia, 1973). 62. Backscheider describes Rowe as a rural counterpart to the Spectator periodical in her effort to reform manners, standards of taste, and conversational norms (Elizabeth Singer Rowe, 50). 63. Rowe, Friendship in Death, 12, 15, 33. 64. While the proposal often appeared to call for an institution that would answer the absence of abbeys and monasteries in Protestant England, Astell did not propose a permanent abode for women seeking an alternative to marriage or a refuge for ruined women, but rather, a religious preparatory school that would offer women a space for education and intellectual empowerment unavailable to them through existing institutions. She placed friendship at the center of an educational program that would promote a greater role for women in intellectual life (short of explicit political activity) and have a salutary moral reverberation outward from the domestic sphere. Astell believed that most women should ultimately contribute to society as wives, exerting a beneﬁcial inﬂuence on their husbands and children, but she doubted whether sustaining female friendships could form properly under average conditions; in her view, the formation of these bonds required a temporary retreat from the infectious atmosphere of social life. 65. As E. Derek Taylor points out, Astell sees Locke’s philosophy as materialist, rigid in its view of environmental conditioning, and, consequently, fatalistic about social change, particularly for the condition of women in society. As an alternative, spiritual friendship arises in Astell’s medicalized rhetoric as an antidote to the diseased souls that populate the modern world. See his Introduction to Mary Astell and John Norris: Letters Concerning the Love of God, ed. E. Derek Taylor and Melvyn New (Hertfordshire: Ashgate, 2005). 66. Mary Astell, A Serious Proposal to the Ladies, Part I & II, ed. Patricia Springborg (London: Pickering and Chatto, 1997), 28, 37. 67. Astell, Serious Proposal, 28. 68. Richard Barney observes that Astell was not alone in advocating for this brand of pedagogical friendship particularly among female pupils. Alongside Astell, François Fénelon and John Essex both invoked a model of peer authority as a regulating affection that would lead women toward virtue. NOTES 231

Richard Barney, Plots of Enlightenment: Education and the Novel in Eighteenth-Century England (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1999), 188–189. 69. Astell, Serious Proposal, 26. 70. Astell, Serious Proposal,35–36. 71. See Sarah Fielding, The Governess; or, the Little Female Academy (Ontario: Broadview, 2005), 140–143. In Fielding’s model, a circle of female friends guided by the eldest pupil, Jenny, listen to a fairy tale together and converse about its meaning. After unruly arguments and Jenny’s intervention, they progress from uncritical and egotistical reactions to an elevated appreciation of the tale’s moral as well as its unreality. The true authority, Mrs Teachum, stays behind the scenes, allowing Jenny to regulate the discussion and report back to her. Fielding thus portrays Jenny, the tutoring friend, as a proxy for the Governess’s invisible authority. 72. Astell describes this universal yet rare friendship as “the richest Treasure! A Blessing that Monarchs may envy, and she who enjoys is happier that she who fills a Throne! A Blessing, which next to the love of GOD is the choicest Jewel in our Caelestial Diadem, which, were it duly practic’d, wou’d both fit us for heav’n and bring it down into our hearts whilst we tarry here” (Serious Proposal, 36). 73. Astell, Serious Proposal, 36. 74. As Astell sees that instructors prudently dispense “fitting medicines” to their pupils, so too the seekers of friends must use judgment in their choice of a friend (Serious Proposal, 28). Friendship is “a Medicine of Life, (as the wise man speaks) yet the danger is great, least being deceived we suck in Poyson where we expected Health. And considering how apt we are to disguise our selves, how hard it is to know our own hearts much less anothers, it is not advisable to be too hasty in contracting so important a Relation” (Serious Proposal, 37). Paradoxically, to choose a friend properly, it would seem one already needs to have one. To judge of the potential friend with optimal prudence, one needs to already possess the beneficial reflective monitoring of a friend. If Astell does not solve this conceptual problem, she does offer the retreat as a context for lessening the effects of self-deception. The retreat mitigates the threat of external and internal poisonings as well as the motives for disguise by removing women from the interests and vanities of the world that promote illusory friendships. 75. Chesterfield, Phillip Dormer Stanhope, Fourth Earl of, Lord Chesterfield’s Letters, ed. David Roberts. (New York: Oxford University Press, 2008), 56. This letter deals primarily with the topic of friendship, cautioning the son to be wary of “simulated friendships,” reminding him that “real friendship is a slow grower,” and counseling him to always distinguish between compa- nions and friends. At the same time, however, Chesterfield advises his son to 232 NOTES

maintain the appearance of amiability with nearly everyone while trusting in almost nobody. While the distinction between friends and flatterers remains crucial for Chesterfield, his advocacy for the outward performance of amiability combined with generalized suspicion is a view that departs from the standards of transparency and trust often associated with true friendship in this period. 76. Chesterfield, Lord Chesterfield’s Letters, 41. 77. Chesterfield, Lord Chesterfield’s Letters, 57. 78. Chesterfield, Lord Chesterfield’s Letters, 98. 79. Barney discusses Defoe’s Family Instructor and Robinson Crusoe as commentaries on the rebellious and reckless character as permanent consequences of early miseducation (Plots of Enlightenment,206–254). 80. As he writes, “one hardly rebels against well-recognized necessity.” Jean- Jacques Rousseau, Emile, or On Education, trans. Allan Bloom (Basic Books, 1979), 161. 81. Rousseau, Emile, 246. 82. Rousseau, Emile, 220. 83. Rousseau, Emile, 234. 84. Rousseau, Emile, 332. 85. Rousseau, Emile, 120. 86. Rousseau articulates the ambiguity inherent in this delicate brand of tutoring turned friendship: “He is still your disciple, but he is no longer your pupil. He is your friend, he is a man. From now on, treat him as such” (Emile, 316). In a related argument, Janet Todd discusses Rousseau’s Julie; or the New Heloise as an illustration of manipulative friendship (Women’s Friendship, 132–167). While Todd focuses primarily on the non-pedagogical friendship between the women of the novel, the relationship between M. de Wolmar and St Preux closely echoes features of the deceptive pedagogical strategy of friendship detailed in Emile. 87. This same paradox of freedom and enslavement in adult friendship anticipates the tutor’s lectures on politics; he encourages Emile to look past positive law and recognize “the eternal laws of nature and order” that are “written in the depth of his heart by conscience and reason.” He concludes: “It is to these that he [the wise man] ought to enslave himself in order to be free” (Emile, 473). Emile’s affection toward his tutor provides the first taste of conscientious duty that underlies Rousseau’s entire political ideal of rustic citizenship. 88. Rousseau, Emile, 407. This contrivance likewise undermines Sophie’s free acceptance of Emile, a choice that Rousseau paradoxically places so much weight upon, given that it is one of the few spaces of autonomy he grants to young women (Emile, 401). 89. Rousseau, Emile, 408. NOTES 233

90. Rousseau, Emile, 479. 91. Rousseau, Emile, 348. 92. Rousseau, Emile, 349. 93. Rousseau, Emile, 354. As with his model of friendship and authority, Rousseau paradoxically equates true pleasure with equality, yet he founds this entire conceit on the hidden advantages of the wealthy patron. 94. Rousseau, Emile, 251. 95. Rousseau, Emile, 342. 96. Rousseau, Emile, 239. 97. Similarly in the realm of true pleasures, Rousseau discusses true beauty within a Platonic framework as that which is most common: observable nowhere in its totality, but requiring the imagination to integrate fragmen- tary perceptions of its parts. The experience of beauty takes place not solely through outward observation, but in the imagination and re-created on the page and canvas. 98. Rousseau, Emile, 416. 99. Rousseau seeks to substitute a ﬁction of experience for the reader in the same way he wishes to substitute a contrived reality for actual reality in Emile’s education. Yet by this logic he falls short of his own standards as a tutoring author, as evidenced in the difference between Rousseau and his tutoring alter ego Jean-Jacques. Rousseau is torn between his own proclivity to pronounce opinions and his advocacy of teaching by showing, not telling. 100. See John Bender, “Novel Knowledge: Judgment, Experience, Experiment” in This is Enlightenment, 284–300. Bender discusses the rhetoric by which novelists invite their readers’ voluntary assessment of the empirical prob- ability of narratives.

CHAPTER 3 1. Sarah Fielding offers fictions of friendship that close with an emphasis on survival and hope and others that end more pessimistically. Her earliest life-affirming model of friendship is in her first publication, The Adventures of David Simple (1744), which appeared years before Richardson’s Clarissa (1749). I begin with Clarissa so as to establish a basis for understanding Fielding’s personal and aesthetic reasons for turning temporarily, and never consistently, toward endorsing a more tragic model of friendship in her Remarks on Clarissa (1749) and David Simple, Volume the Last (1753). 2. David A. Brewer, The Afterlife of Character, 1726–1825 (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2005), 18. Brewer borrows the idea of the “social canon” from Franco Moretti’s “The Slaughterhouse of Literature,” Modern Language Quarterly 61.1 (2000): 207–227. In this conception, the 234 NOTES

social canon reflects the loosely specified set of texts and characters kept alive by individual readers of popular literature, distinguished in this way from the academic canon. 3. Brewer, Afterlife of Character,79–81. 4. Brewer, Afterlife of Character, 130–134. 5. See Chapter 1. 6. See Thomas Keymer, Richardson’s Clarissa and the Eighteenth-Century Reader (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992), 199–214. 7. For the debate between Warner and McKeon, primarily over the utility of genealogical versus dialectic methods, see Warner, “Realist Literary History: Michael McKeon’s New Origins of the English Novel.” Diacritics 19.1 (1989): 62–81; McKeon, “A Defense of Dialectical Method in Literary History.” Diacritics 19.1 (1989): 83–96; Warner, “TakingDialecticwithaGrainofSalt:AReplytoMcKeon” Diacritics 20.1 (1990): 103–107. Despite this debate, McKeon’s Origins of the English Novel and Warner’s Licensing Entertainment both culminate in a genre-defining comparison between Richardson’s Pamela and Fielding’s Joseph Andrews. 8. Warner, Licensing Entertainment, 192–199. 9. In Richardson’s “Clarissa” and the Eighteenth-Century Reader (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992), Tom Keymer discusses these symme- tries and other formal patterns in the novel (46). 10. Russell West, “To the Unknown Reader: Constructing Absent Readership in the Eighteenth-Century Novel: Fielding, Sterne, and Richardson,” Arbeiten aus Anglistik und Amerikanistik 26.2 (2001): 105. 11. On the formal implications of domestication in eighteenth-century romances and novels, see Michael McKeon, Secret History, 394, 639. McKeon takes Richardson’s Pamela as the primary example of formal domestication in the novel. 12. Samuel Richardson, Clarissa, or The History of a Young Lady, ed. Angus Ross (New York: Penguin Books, 1985), 986. Future in-text page references are to this edition. 13. See Janet Todd, Women’s Friendship, 45. Todd reads this passage as a “treasonable fantasy” that symptomizes the tension between patriarchy and female friendship. I would add that this fantasy echoes and re-configures romance narrative conventions, foregrounding the relationship of novel forms to the social ideologies of family and friendship. 14. Christina Marsden Gillis, The Paradox of Privacy: Epistolary Form in “Clarissa” (Gainesville: University Presses of Florida, 1984). Gillis notes Alan McKillop’s original observation of the paradoxical presentation of epistolary privacy in Samuel Richardson, Printer and Novelist (Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press, 1936). Gillis also offers an excellent NOTES 235

survey of interpretations that gravitate toward a view of epistolary writing as a solipsistic or idealized expression of authentic self (3–5). While I am analyzing the novel in light of Richardson’s view of epistolary writing as an ideal of communication, I mean to identify the contradictions that emerge from this conception. 15. Naomi Tadmor, Family and Friends, 268. 16. Todd, Women’s Friendship in Literature, 65. 17. Lois Bueler recognizes Clarissa as a paragon of non-familial friendship in light of Aristotle’s virtue ethics, though she does not overtly situate these ethics in the modern context of epistolarity. Bueler, Clarissa’s Plots (Newark: University of Delaware Press, 1994), 120. Many critics, along with Tadmor and Todd, see a tension between the novel’s discourse of friendship and its avowed didactic purpose. Victor J. Lams finds a self-aggrandizement in Anna’s praise of and mourning for Clarissa that jars with Richardson’s moral agenda. Lams, Clarissa’s Narrators (New York: Peter Lang, 2001), 144. Others claim that the novel privileges traditional patriarchal values over transgressive female solidarity. Ellen Gardiner argues that Richardson undercuts the judgments of both women to legitimate Belford as an editorial figure that allegorizes Richardson’s authorial identity. Gardiner, Regulating Readers: Gender and Literary Criticism in the Eighteenth- Century Novel (Newark: University of Delaware Press, 1999), 45. Elizabeth Heckendorn Cook finds the novel’s image of friendship to be contained within “the more powerful narrative of eighteenth-century male literary authority.” See Cook, Epistolary Bodies: Gender and Genre in the Eighteenth-Century Republic of Letters (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1996), 112. Rachel K. Carnell examines the parallel between Clarissa and Anna’s debate over paternal authority and “treasonous” debates over political authority, while concluding that the novel’s transgressive message is contained by its reception as a conduct book about marriage. See Carnell, “Clarissa’s Treasonable Correspondence: Gender, Epistolary Politics, and the Public Sphere” in Passion and Virtue: Essays on the Novels of Samuel Richardson, ed. David Blewett (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2001), 133–134. Hina Nazar theorizes that reader dissatisfaction with the novel’s conclusion stems from the tacit dissonance between the worldly values attached to the women’s friendship and the ending’s emphasis on otherworldly rewards. See Nazar, “Judging Clarissa’s Heart,” English Literary History 79.1 (2012): 96. 18. To Aaron Hill, October 29, 1746, printed in Selected Letters, 72. 19. Richardson’s remarks introduce a further complication. Ostensibly, he means to suggest that, in epistolary fiction, to show the reader that Clarissa thinks herself in love, she must write it down. Yet, Richardson’s final emphasis occludes his own crucial but subtle parenthetical distinction— 236 NOTES

between not “owning” it and being “blind” to it. It is as if to say, whether Clarissa actively hides it or is blind to it herself, the friend knows—or, rather, for readers, Anna’s imputation overrides any potential play between Clarissa’s self-disclosure and concealment. 20. Habermas, Structural Transformation, 46–47. 21. Such proximities transgress the traditional regulation of distances negotiated by the implied decorum of domestic architecture. For a discussion of this analogy between architectural and epistolary spaces, see Gillis, The Paradox of Privacy,17–75; Karen Lipsedge, “Representations of the Domestic Parlour in Samuel Richardson’s Clarissa, 1747–1748” Eighteenth-Century Fiction 17.3 (2005): 391–423. For a discussion of character interiority and architectural privacy, see McKeon’s Secret History, 710–714. 22. Conversely, Richardson sees scornful self-interest undermining the Harlowes’ ability to offer advice or consolation. In surveying Clarissa’s situation after running off with Lovelace, Arabella concludes a vitriolic letter with personal scorn, writing, “Everybody, in short, is ashamed of you: But none more than Arabella Harlowe” (510). In one of the novel’s dramatic tonal shifts, the next letter from Anna opens with consoling imperatives: “Be comforted; be not dejected; do not despond, my dearest and best beloved friend” (510). This disjunct anticipates Clarissa’slater remark on Anna’s sharp tone after a long silence between them, a consequence of Lovelace’s machinations: “For surely, thought I, this is my sister Arabella’sstyle” (995–996). A temporary consequence of Lovelace’sarti- fice, this tension is soon resolved, reaffirming the novel’slocationof sympathy and understanding in epistolary friendship. 23. Henry Fielding, Joseph Andrews, ed. Martin C. Battestin. (Middleton, CT: Wesleyan University Press, 1967), 189. The italics are mine. 24. Adam Smith, The Theory of Moral Sentiments (New York: Penguin Classics, 2009), 28. 25. Richardson, Clarissa. Or, the history of a young lady: comprehending the most important concerns of private life. In eight volumes. To Each of which is added a table of Contents. The third edition. In which many passages and some letters are restored from the original manuscripts. And to which is added, an ample collection of such of the Moral and Instructive sentiments. interspersed throughout the Work, as may be presumed to be of general Use and Service. ... Vol. Volume 6. p. 187. London, M.DCC.LI. 1750–1751 [1751]. Eighteenth Century Collections Online. Gale. Grinnell College. 30 August 2016 http://find. galegroup.com.grinnell.idm.oclc.org/ecco/infomark.do?&source= gale&prodId=ECCO&userGroupName=grin67026&tabID=T001&docId= CW3310374229&type=multipage&contentSet=ECCOArticles&version=1. 0&docLevel=FASCIMILE. Gale Document Number: CW3310374229. 26. Maurer, “Politics of Masculinity,” 87–110. NOTES 237

27. Richardson essentially applies the eighteenth-century perception that mixed-sex conversation had advantages over same-sex conversation in epistolary writing. See Betty A. Schellenberg, The Conversational Circle: Rereading the English Novel, 1740–1775. (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 1996), 1–2, and Jon Mee, Conversable Worlds: Literature, Contention, and Community, 1762–1830 (Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press, 2008), 10–12. While it may not be surprising to suggest that Richardson wants women to write letters that their fathers might read, it is worth stressing that he also implies privileged men like Lovelace and Belford should write as if their female friends and family were reading their letters. For Richardson, the internalization of a mixed-sex audience as a trope of conscience applies to both correspondences. 28. Carol Houlihan Flynn observes that Clarissa and Lovelace are both at different points left without the support and the amicable counsel of their immediate families, putting greater pressure on their friendships. Samuel Richardson: A Man of Letters (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1982), 255. 29. Allusions to David and Jonathan were frequent in early modern remarks on ideal friendship. Jeremy Taylor comments at length on David and Jonathan in The Measure and Offices of Friendship (1662. Delmar, NY: Scholars Fascimiles & Reprints, 1984), 47–49. Richard Allestree cites David and Jonathan as an example of a friend’s rescue that transgresses parental approval in The Whole Duty of Man (London: John Baskett, 1724), 308. 30. Derrida, Politics of Friendship,5. 31. Derrida, Politics of Friendship,5. 32. Derrida, Politics of Friendship, 12. 33. Todd, Women’s Friendship in Literature,48–49. 34. See G.J. Barker-Benfield, The Culture of Sensibility: Sex and Society in Eighteenth-Century Britain (Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press, 1992), 104–153; Carolyn D. Williams, Pope, Homer and Manliness: Some Aspects of Eighteenth-Century Classical Learning (London and New York: Routledge, 1993), 27–53; E.J. Clery, The Feminization Debate in Eighteenth-Century England: Literature, Commerce, and Luxury (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2004), 95–131. In his chapter, “The Question of Effeminacy” Barker-Benfield discusses the response of various male writers to the reformation of male manners and the associations of feminization of culture with luxury and national decay. Parallel to my discussion of John Norris’s and Richardson’s reception of classical friendship models, Williams discusses Pope’s reception of Homeric masculinity as a translation of physical masculinity into mental toughness. Clery builds from Williams’s framework and offers a compelling reading of Clarissa as a narrative that defends effeminacy from associations with corrosive luxury. 238 NOTES

35. For a thorough study of John Norris’sinfluence on Richardson, see E. Derek Taylor’s Reason and Religion in Clarissa: Samuel Richardson and “the Famous Mr. Norris of Bemerton” (Burlington: Ashgate, 2009). Taylor does not examine this poem in respect to Clarissa’s plot. 36. John Norris, A Collection of Miscellanies (1687; New York: Garland, 1978), 95. 37. A concern raised in verse by Katherine Phillips, and in essays by Jeremy Taylor, Mary Astell, and John Norris. In letters exchanged with Norris, Astell solves the problem by suggesting that lovers of God are “like excited needles, [ ...] that cleave not only to him their Magnet, but even to one another. See Mary Astell and John Norris. Letters Concerning the Love of God,66–67. Norris’s poem and Clarissa’s remarks do not worry over the place of God in the spiritual reunion of friends. 38. Deidre Lynch, Economy of Character: Novels, Market Culture, and the Business of Inner Meaning (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1998), 34. Lynch examines Locke’s tropes of printing as an example of the broader connection between print and mental life. 39. Kvande, “Printed in a Book,” pp. 239–257. As Kvande writes, “letters fail to convey the intended self” because of their vulnerability as a physical medium (245). Kvande sees Richardson’s novel as a reflection of the cultural perception of women’s epistolary writing as an “authentic feminine outpouring” (243). 40. McMurran, The Spread of Novels, 123–124. 41. Adam Budd, “Why Clarissa Must Die: Richardson’s Tragedy and Editorial Heroism,” Eighteenth-Century Life 31.3 (2007): 1–28. 42. Budd, “Why Clarissa Must Die,” 10. 43. While Budd offers excellent reflections on this tension, his overall discussion of Belford underplays the extent to which even Belford is drawn into intense feelings for Clarissa and thereby conscripted within the novel’s overarching discourse of ideal friendship. I do not see Belford’s “distance” from Clarissa as a question of the emotional detachment requisite for moral action, but, rather, as a sign of the vicarious attachment between real persons and fictional characters. 44. Richardson attempts to have it both ways, justifying Clarissa according to the moral utility of a resonant tragic pathos, and according to a Christian framework for comedy that would undercut our experience of any tragic pathos. 45. While much of the fiction published in the 1740s prior to Clarissa involved a comic plot, Richardson’s moderate success seems to open the door for a number of tragic novels in the latter half of the century, including Sarah Fielding’s David Simple, Volume the Last (1753), Frances Sheridan’s Memoirs of Sidney Bidulph (1761), Frances Brooke’s History of Lady Julia Mandeville (1763), and Mackenzie’s The Man of Feeling (1771). Clarissa might also be said to anticipate the widespread acceptability of tragic end- ings in later Gothic novels, including Walpole’s Castle of Otranto (1764), NOTES 239

Godwin’s Caleb Williams (1794), Lewis’s The Monk (1796) and Edgeworth’s Castle Rackrent (1800). 46. As Brewer discusses, Richardson also complained of publications that expanded on Pamela’s story when they were not ﬁltered through his own controlling authorship (Afterlife of Character, 143–144). 47. Bradshaigh, writing under the pseudonym Belfour, to Richardson, undated letter (November–December 1748) printed in The Correspondence of Samuel Richardson, ed. Anna Laetitia Barbauld (London: Printed for Richard Phillips, 1804), v.4, 215–216. 48. Half a decade later, Bradshaigh is provoked by the possibility that Richardson’s Sir Charles Grandison may also resolve tragically. She exclaims in a letter to the author: “Would I had never re’d Clarissa, wou’d I had never ofﬁciously (and to please my own ridiculous humour) wrote its author, would he had never wrote the long expected grandison, once my delight, now my Torment”. Bradshaigh to Richardson, 22 February 1754, Forster MSS, XI, f. 84r. 49. Richardson to Bradshaigh, 15 December 1748, Forster MSS, XI, f. 4r. 50. Richardson to Bradshaigh, 15 December 1748, Forster MSS, XI, f. 3r. 51. Carr to Collier, December 1748, Forster MSS, XV, 2, f. 10r. 52. Highmore to Richardson, 2 January 1749, Forster MSS, XV, 2, f. 11r. 53. Delany to Richardson, 25 January 1749, Forster MSS, XV, 2, f. 13r. 54. Moore to Richardson, 23 December 1748, Forster MSS, XV, 2, f. 21r. 55. See Thomas Keymer’s “Clarissa’s Death, Clarissa’s Sale, and the Text of the Second Edition,” Review of English Studies 45.179 (1994): 395. Expressions of friendship toward Clarissa linked with critiques of the plot might be placed in the context of general remarks on the verisimilitude of the novel. As Catherine Talbot wrote to Elizabeth Carter in 1747, “one can scarce persuade oneself that [Clarissa’s characters] are not real characters, and living people.” This quotation appears in T.C. Duncan Eaves and Ben D. Kimpel, Samuel Richardson: A Biography (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1971), 239. 56. Diderot, “Eulogy of Richardson,” 393. 57. As James Fowler has suggested, Diderot’s appropriation of Richardson as a friend works to translate the overtly Christian author’s accomplishments into a secular and classical idiom, one that involves the glory of a textual afterlife more than a union of souls in a Christian heaven, the image Richardson himself might have conjured. For an extended discussion of the ideological disparities between Richardson and Diderot that this rhetoric of friendship masks, see James Fowler, Richardson and the Philosophes (Oxford: Legenda, 2014), 147. 58. Sarah Fielding, Remarks on Clarissa (1749. Los Angeles: William Andrews Clark Memorial Library, University of California, 1985), 46. 240 NOTES

59. Fielding, Remarks, 45. 60. Chapone to Richardson, 20 March 1751, in Forster MSS, XII, 2, f. 21v. 61. Edwards to Richardson, 8 February 1751, Forster, MSS, XII, 1, f. 15r. 62. Cook, Epistolary Bodies, 112; Carnell, “Clarissa’s Treasonable Correspondence,” 133–134.

CHAPTER 4 1. Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra, The History of the Renowned Don Quixote De La Mancha, Translated by Several Hands: And Publish’d by Peter Motteux, rev. J. Ozell (London, 1725), 4:359. 2. Sarah Fielding, Adventures of David Simple and Volume the Last, ed. Peter Sabor (1744, 1753; Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 1998), 342. Future in-text page references are to this edition. 3. Richard Terry, “David Simple and the Fallacy of Friendship,” SEL: Studies in English Literature 1500–1900 44.3 (2004): 525–544. 4. Scott Paul Gordon, “Suspicion and Experience in Sarah Fielding’s David Simple” in The Practice of Quixotism, 90–91. Gordon argues that Fielding “dismantles” both the quixotic and non-quixotic positions, leaving the reader the only option of radical suspicion. My argument in this chapter opposes Gordon’s to the extent that I see Fielding remaining committed to friendship ideals whatever the costs. 5. Fielding may have in mind another famous instance of this tension that appears at the end of William Shakespeare’s King Lear: “Vex not his ghost. O, let him pass, he hates him/That would upon the rack of this tough world/Stretch him out longer.” Shakespeare, The History of King Lear, in The Riverside Shakespeare, ed. G. Blakemore Evans (Boston: Houghton Mifﬂin, 1974), act 5, scene 3, lines 314–316. 6. Brewer does not discuss Sarah Fielding’s complex approach to character and authorial identity. 7. See William Warner, Licensing Entertainment. While Warner does not discuss Sarah Fielding’s ﬁction, her sympathy for Richardson’s project as well as the elements of her formal mediation of friendship ideals suggest her parti- cipation in the logic of elevation that Warner examines. 8. Sarah Fielding, Remarks on Clarissa (1749. Los Angeles: William Andrews Clark Memorial Library, University of California, 1985), 47. 9. Still, as Porter points out, the development of a postal infrastructure with daily delivery to provincial areas did not take off until the mid-eighteenth century. British citizens witness a major expansion of postal networks between 1740 and 1770. See Enlightenment, 40. 10. Sarah Fielding is as absent (and present) from the critical pamphlet as Richardson is from his novels. She appears nowhere explicitly in the cast of NOTES 241

characters and is never identified in the voice of the writer, though her views are identifiable with the central female character Miss Gibson. 11. A skeptical reading seems unavoidable, namely, that Bellario’s avowed admiration of the novel and his epistolary performance of critical evaluation suggests a secret design on Miss Gibson within a larger plot of seduction or courtship. Working against this inference, however, is this outer-framework, wherein the author has received these letters openly from Miss Gibson and publishes them without reservation or disclaimers. What neu- tralizes the suggestive connotations of a correspondence between parties of opposite sex seems to be the subject itself: a critical conversation about the virtues of Richardson’s novel. While the correspondence may appear as depersonalized as modern academic scholarship, the impersonal character only heightens its correlation with features of idealized friendship in the eighteenth century. 12. Schellenberg, Conversational Circle, 29. 13. Emily C. Friedman, “Remarks on Richardson: Sarah Fielding and the Rational Reader,” Eighteenth-Century Fiction 22.2 (2009–2010): 309–326. Friedman shows how Remarks anticipates the author’s fraught engagement with readers in The Cry (1754), a novel Fielding co-authored with Jane Collier. On the significance of friendship to a reading of The Cry, see Ellen Gardiner, “Friendship, Equality, and Interpretation in the Cry,” in Regulating Readers, 110–133. 14. James Kim, “Mourning, Melancholia, and Modernity: Sentimental Irony and Downward Mobility in David Simple,” Eighteenth-Century Fiction 22.3 (2010): 477–502. This figurative equation of a masculine, hostile audience and the unfeeling world represented in the story is complicated by David finding true and false friends in both male and female characters. 15. Schellenberg, Conversational Circle, 21. 16. Schellenberg, Conversational Circle, 125. 17. Of Fielding’s development, Schellenberg writes, “the narrator as naïve alter-ego of the wandering hero in David Simple has been replaced by the narrator as authoritative social commentator in Volume the Last” (120). I will account for this transition, not as a replacement of one approach by another, but as an evolution that is a result of the constant interplay between ideals of amity and proprieties of narration. 18. In Dorrit Cohn’s foundational lexicon, this shift would be an instance of her distinction between “narrated monologue” (or free indirect speech) and “psycho-narration.” Cohn, Transparent Minds: Narrative Modes for Presenting Consciousness in Fiction (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1978). 19. James Wood identifies a similar connection between narration, free indirect style, and the thematic of friendship in How Fiction Works (New York: 242 NOTES

Picador, 2008), 16. Of Henry James’s narration in What Maisie Knew, Wood writes: “the free indirect style is done so well that it is pure voice— it longs to be turned back into the speech of which it is the paraphrase.” Wood comments that the “shadow” of Maisie’s language in James’s prose allows the reader to hear her speaking “to the kind of friend she in fact painfully lacks” (16). In the Adventures, Fielding may provide one of the earliest models for this relationship between an isolated protagonist and a “friendly” third-person narrative persona. 20. While I ascribe a feminine pronoun to the narrator because of the author’s gender, I acknowledge that author and narrator must be carefully distinguished. We should not assume that Fielding wishes to conflate the historical tensions surrounding her identity as a female author, which she acknowledges in the Preface, with the social position and voice of the narrator in the main text. 21. David’s encounter with the beggar models a scene that will recur throughout sentimental literature over the next few decades, involving the exchange of money for a tearful tale. This sentimental economics typically allegorizes the reader’s relation to sentimental literature, drawing out its moral delica- cies and hazards. But, in this early case, the sympathetic communion takes root specifically in the alienation from family ties and expresses a reciprocal distress. 22. I wish to thank and credit the anonymous reviewer of this manuscript for suggesting this clarification. 23. Linda Bree, Sarah Fielding (New York: Twayne, 1996), 16. Bree surmises that Sarah might have been frustrated with Henry for spending money as recklessly as their father and failing to support her as much as he might have. 24. McKeon, Origins of the English Novel, 226–228. 25. Daniel’s irreverence regarding the written will, repeated in the Harlowes’s view of the grandfather’s will in Clarissa, points to a dislocation of the aristocratic analogy between familial and political structures of authority. Whether the perceived breakdown of this analogy in fiction reflects an actual breakdown in structures of authority in the wider culture of eighteenth- century Britain exceeds the scope of this study. 26. For Kim, the novel deals with “the problem of true worth cast down the social hierarchy” (489). Alternatively, Gillian Skinner observes that David’s class status is difficult to determine. While he benefits from the rights of a first son, his patrimony represents his father’s success in trade. Although he is educated like a gentleman, he has little familiarity with high living. Skinner, Sensibility and Economics in the Novel, 1740–1800: The Price of a Tear (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1999), 22. 27. Gary Gautier, “Henry and Sarah Fielding on Romance and Sensibility,” Novel 31.2 (1998): 195–214. According to Gautier, Sarah Fielding NOTES 243

“warns conservative Augustans against rejecting sensibility and lapsing into a cold, neo-Stoicism. Yet at the same time she warns bourgeois proponents of sensibility against making any clean break from Augustan principles of rationality and clear judgment” (204). 28. David’s certainty on this point breaks with representations of character interiority in earlier works of fiction, from the spiritual struggle that marks the allegorical work of religious dissenters (Bunyan and Defoe) to the social self-consciousness of epistolary form (Richardson). 29. McKeon, Origins of the English Novel, 95. On the confessional authority of the first person, McKeon describes the “structural interplay between the sinful present of the Character and the repentant retrospection of the Narrator, who, incorporating God’s omniscience, knows how the story will end.” The friend-narrator restructures this interplay between intimate immediacy and distanced foreknowledge. 30. Each story parallels features of David’s experience, particularly the injustice that can result from acts of deception and the absence of sympathy. 31. Kim, “Mourning, Melancholia, and Modernity,” 484–485. For Kim, the ethical subjectivity of female characters finally stabilizes this chaos of sig- nification by providing, through gestures of fidelity that lead to marriage, a solid foundation for a community of friendship to emerge. I suggest that this observation does not fully account for the significance of David and Valentine’s relationship, or of David’s platonic friendship with Cynthia. This view underappreciates the narrator’s involvement in managing this deferral of value so that a new community can emerge. 32. Gallagher, Nobody’s Story, 178. 33. Fielding’s novel thus frames a syllogistic equation, linking fictional Nobodies to strangers and strangers to potential friends. 34. Terry, “Fallacy of Friendship,” 527; and Linda Bree, Sarah Fielding,42–43. 35. See Chapter 1, n. 44. 36. Terry makes this latter connection, citing Bree’s coverage of Fielding’s life (525, 542n1). 37. The novel’s penultimate paragraph corroborates this interpretation. Following a lengthy quotation of David’s deathbed oration, the narrator writes, “These Things did David speak at various Times, and with such Chearfulness, that Cynthia said, the last Hour she spent with him, in seeing his Hopes and Resignation, was a Scene of real Pleasure” (342). 38. Henry Fielding, Preface to The Adventures of David Simple by Sarah Fielding, ed. Malcolm Kelsall (1745; New York: Oxford University Press, 1987), 7. 39. Samuel Johnson, A Dictionary of the English Language: in which the words are deduced from their originals, and illustrated in their different significa- tions by examples from the best writers. To which are prefixed, a history of the language, and an English grammar (London: W. Strahan, 1755). 244 NOTES

40. Gallagher, Nobody’sStory,145–202. Henry Fielding, of course, deals extensively with quixotism in Joseph Andrews (1742) and Tom Jones (1749), and Sarah would have been familiar with his treatment of the theme. In drawing a distinction between their attitudes about friendship, I do not mean to imply that Henry Fielding sees no productive value in quixotism or thinks that one might escape one’s own vanity (he would undoubtedly find this an equally quixotic prospect); rather I mean to suggest that for Henry “ideal friendship” is an outdated romance notion that may at times become a “useful fiction” in a conservative ethics and skeptical epistemology (to invoke McKeon’s dialectic terms), whereas for Sarah ideal friendship is an obtainable goal that can be practiced, if only fleetingly, and may be worth pursuing regardless of the costs to the individual.

CHAPTER 5 1. Sarah Scott, A Description of Millenium Hall (1762; Ontario: Broadview, 1995), 52. Future in-text page references are to this edition. 2. Sarah Fielding, Adventures of David Simple,3. 3. According to James Boswell, “Millar, though himself no great judge of literature, had good sense enough to have for his friends very able men to give him their opinion and advice in the purchase of copyright; the consequence of which was his acquiring a very large fortune, with great liberality.” See Boswell, Boswell’s Life of Johnson, ed. George B. Hill and L.F. Powell (1791; Oxford: The Clarendon Press, 1934–1950), v.1, 287. 4. Cheryl Turner, Living By the Pen: Women Writers in the Eighteenth Century (London and New York: Routledge, 1992), 89. 5. Tadmor, Family and Friends, 198–215. Tadmor examines Thomas Turner’s male friendships and demonstrates that his use of the word friend is multi- valent. His relationships often blur sentimental and instrumental ties, though some “friends” are primarily business relations. On the fraternal character of Turner’s social network, Tadmor concludes: “Such relationships of ‘friendship,’ combining personal and intellectual afﬁnity, business, sports, and public service inevitably left women behind. From a practical point of view, too, it would probably have been very difﬁcult for Thomas to have regular private meetings with women, as he had with his male ‘friends,’ without arousing great suspicion and gossip” (Family and Friends, 208). 6. Eve Tavor Bannet, “The Bluestocking Sisters: Women’s Patronage, Millenium Hall, and ‘The Visible Providence of a Country,’” Eighteenth- Century Life 30.1 (2006): 47–48. 7. For anonymous female authors, building and maintaining a fan base would need to depend more on the use of recurring characters or title pages noting past works by the author. 8. Bree, Sarah Fielding,1–28; Bannet, “The Bluestocking Sisters,” 25–55. NOTES 245

9. Bree, Sarah Fielding, 24. 10. Bree, Sarah Fielding, 27. 11. These comments revise an assumption I made in an earlier published version of this argument. See “Institutions of Friendship in Sarah Scott’s Millenium Hall,” Texas Studies in Literature and Language (Winter 2015). The issue is complicated by the fact that the word “Advertisement” had several different applications within print culture at this time. This instance deviates from the more common usages, such as describing the book’s utility for readers or pointing readers to other books of interest by the same publisher. In his other publications, Newbery typically used “Advertisements” in these more practical ways and there is nothing else quite like this one. For a discussion of this advertisement in the context of Newbery’s career, see John Dawson Carl Buck’s “The Motives of Puffing: John Newbery’s Advertisements 1742–1767,” Studies in Bibliography 30 (1977): 196–210. Buck pre- sumes the piece to be written by Newbery and sees it as consistent with his advertising tactics and cultivated image. I would suggest, however, that the uniqueness and purely ornamental quality of this advertisement should make readers less certain as to who might have written it. 12. The note “The Publisher to the Reader,” published in the first edition of Gulliver’s Travels in 1726 and the “advertisement” that appears in the 1735 Dublin edition share certain features with Millenium Hall’s “advertisement,” though these earlier notes also serve (or pretend to serve) more practical functions. See Jonathan Swift, Gulliver’s Travels, ed. Allan Ingram (1735; Ontario: Broadview, 2012). 13. Scott’s name did not appear on any of the first four editions of Millenium Hall published in 1762, 1764, 1767, 1778. 14. While the notion of female authorship, and particularly an author of Scott’s social class, was not uncommon, anonymity was also typical. Many studies discuss anonymity as a function of female writers’ resistance to professional authorship. See, for instance, Jane Spencer, The Rise of the Woman Novelist: From Aphra Behn to Jane Austen (Oxford: Blackwell, 1986); Todd, The Sign of Angellica: Women, Writing and Fiction, 1660–1800 (New York: Columbia University. Press, 1989); Schellenberg, The Professionalization of Women Writers in Eighteenth-Century Britain (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005). For a closely related study of Scott’s sister, Elizabeth Montagu, see Markman Ellis, “‘An Author in Form’: Women Writers, Print Publication, and Elizabeth Montagu’s Dialogues of the Dead,” English Literary History 79.2 (2012): 417–445. Schellenberg speculates that Scott’s career-long preference for anonymity might have resulted not just from a reticence about acknowledging her identity as a female author, but from a resistance to an intellectual identity in both public and 246 NOTES

private life. Schellenberg does not address the function of semi-anonymity in Scott’s career (Professionalization,91–93). 15. Schellenberg, Conversational Circle, 100. Nanette Morton similarly argues that Scott’s subjection of female virtue to the narrator’s male gaze reinforces social hierarchy and restricts female rights to their “proper” sphere in a natural order. See Nanette Morton, “‘A Most Sensible Oeconomy’: From Spectacle to Surveillance in Sarah Scott’s Millenium Hall,” Eighteenth- Century Fiction 11.3 (1999): 188–189, 204. 16. Bannet, “Bluestocking Sisters,” 45. Bannet bases her claim of “semi-anonymity” on the correspondence in the Montagu Collection at the Huntington Library, which includes private letters between Scott, her sister Elizabeth Montagu, and others (46). Schellenberg offers compelling evi- dence that Scott’s authorial identity never became widely known in her lifetime and that it was nearly forgotten by late eighteenth-century critics (Professionalization, 92). In either case, my argument involves the extent to which Scott’s sense of a double audience inflects the treatment of friendship and other stylistic features of this novel. 17. See Chapter 2,35–40. 18. See Trolander and Tenger, Sociable Criticism. The authors discuss the importance of friendship and sociability in the manuscript practices of Ben Jonson, Margaret Cavendish, and John Dryden, as well as in early print criticism and periodical literature. 19. See Chapter 2,28–33. 20. Ben Jonson, “To His Honoured Friend, Mr. John Selden, Health” in John Selden, Titles of Honor (London: W. Stansby for J. Helme, 1614), Br–B2v. 21. Samuel Richardson, Pamela; or, Virtue Rewarded, ed. Thomas Keymer and Alice Wakely (Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press, 2001), 4. 22. Richardson, Pamela, 506. 23. Richardson, Pamela, 507. 24. While Richardson temporarily removed these letters from later editions of Pamela, he generally persisted in his advertising tactics in spite of Shamela’s ridicule. He includes anonymous praise from Thomas Edwards andJohnDuncombeinthefourtheditionofRichardson’s Clarissa,andan initialed dedicatory poem by Edwards in the second edition of Sir Charles Grandison. These poems praise Richardson’sgeniusasanauthor,though still refrain from naming him outright. To be sure, Edward’s poems are not meanttofunctionasapreface,andconsequentlytheyseemevenmoreof an indulgence for Richardson. In Augustan odes addressed directly to Richardson, Edwards does not acknowledge the wider public or attempt to justify these lofty sentiments. Although titled “To the Author of Clarissa,” Duncombe addresses himself implicitly to the public, praising Richardson’s accomplishments highly and suggesting finally that even Plato NOTES 247 would have approved of the novel. While these pieces do not foreground their author’s relationship with Richardson, Thomas Edwards’sinitialsmighthave been recognizable by anyone familiar with Richardson’s circle. Collectively, the materials in Pamela and Clarissa reflect the benefit of having strong recommendations included within the book itself. Indicative of the way novels very early on coincide with the waning influence of patronage, these advertisements invert the obsequious tone employed by authors toward their patrons in dedicatory letters, making novelists themselves the subject of veneration. See Clarissa. Or, the history of a young lady: comprehending the most important concerns of private life. In seven volumes. To each of which is added, a table of Contents. The fourth edition. In which many passages and some letters are restored from the original manuscripts. And to which is added, an ample collection of such of the Moral and Instructive sentiments interspersed throughout the Work, as may be presumed to be of general Use and Service ... Vol. Volume 1. London, M.DCC.LI. [1751]. Eighteenth Century Collections Online. Gale. Grinnell College. 29 July 2016 http://find.galegroup.com. grinnell.idm.oclc.org/ecco/infomark.do?&source=gale&prodId= ECCO&userGroupName=grin67026&tabID=T001&docId= CW3309455633&type=multipage&contentSet=ECCOArticles&version=1. 0&docLevel=FASCIMILE. Gale Document Number: CW3309455633; Clarissa. Or, the history of a young lady: comprehending the most important concerns of private life. In seven volumes. To each of which is added, a table of Contents. The fourth edition. In which many passages and some letters are restored from the original manuscripts. And to which is added, an ample collection of such of the Moral and Instructive sentiments interspersed throughout the Work, as may be presumed to be of general Use and Service. ... Vol. Volume 7. London, M.DCC.LI. [1751]. Eighteenth Century Collections Online.Gale. Grinnell College. 29 July 2016 http://find.galegroup.com.grinnell.idm.oclc. org/ecco/infomark.do?&source=gale&prodId=ECCO&userGroupName= grin67026&tabID=T001&docId=CW3309957565&type= multipage&contentSet=ECCOArticles&version=1.0&docLevel= FASCIMILE. Gale Document Number: CW3309957565; The history of Sir Charles Grandison. In a series of letters published from the originals, by the editor of Pamela and Clarissa. In six volumes. To the Last of which is added, An Historical and Characteristical Index. As also, A Brief History, authenticated by Original Letters, of the Treatment which the Editor has met with from certain Booksellers and Printers in Dublin. Including Observations on Mr. Faulkner’s Defence of Himself, published in his Irish News-Paper of Nov. 3. 1753. Vol. I. Vol. Volume 1. [The second edition]. London, [1753]- M.DCC.LIV. [1754]. Eighteenth Century Collections Online. Gale. Grinnell College. 29 July 2016 http://find.galegroup.com. grinnell.idm.oclc.org/ecco/infomark.do?&source=gale&prodId= 248 NOTES

ECCO&userGroupName=grin67026&tabID=T001&docId= CW3314072150&type=multipage&contentSet=ECCOArticles&version= 1.0&docLevel=FASCIMILE. Gale Document Number: CW3314072150 25. These prefaces are a combination of applause and the kind of extended discourse on genre that one findsintheprefacestoHenry’s own novels. Henry’sprefaces for Sarah’s works include his signed one for the second edition of Adventures of David Simple and one for the Familiar Letters between the Principle Characters in David Simple, unsigned but “Written By A Friend of the Author” with strong signalsastotheauthor’s identity. Jane Collier offers an anonymous preface “Written by a Female Friend of the Author” for Volume the Last.BothHenry Fielding and Collier take a confrontational tone with Sarah Fielding’s prospec- tive readers, the former addressing prejudices against female authors, the latter addressing the age’ssuperficial taste for novelty. Collier does not so much resist the value of novelty itself, but attempts to pitch the value of Volume the Last by equating true novelty not with new characters but with the placement of familiar characters in new circumstances. In all of these cases, Sarah Fielding trades on the benefit of having an intermediary do the work of advertising the value of her fictions relative to the classical canon and contemporary marketplace. See Henry Fielding, Preface to The Adventures of David Simple by Sarah Fielding,ed. Malcolm Kelsall, 3–8; Familiar letters between the principal characters in David Simple, and some others. To which is added, A vision. By the author of David Simple. In two volumes ...Vol. Volume 1. London, 1747. Eighteenth Century Collections Online. Gale. Grinnell College. 29 July 2016 http://find. galegroup.com.grinnell.idm.oclc.org/ecco/infomark.do?&source= gale&prodId=ECCO&userGroupName=grin67026&tabID=T001&docId= CW3312268662&type=multipage&contentSet=ECCOArticles&version=1. 0&docLevel=FASCIMILE. Gale Document Number: CW3312268662; Jane Collier, preface to The Adventures of David Simple, Volume the Last,ed. Malcolm Kelsall, 309–311. 26. Silver suggests that many influential eighteenth-century intellectuals (including Adam Smith, Francis Hutcheson, and David Hume) relegate friendship ties to the private sphere as a means of keeping them free from the logic of exchange that dominates the political and commercial sphere, while, conversely, keeping theories of commerce free from the messy and imprecise qualities of personal affections. See Silver, “Friendship in Commercial Society,” 1479. Vanessa Smith explores this phenomenon in her analysis of the way eighteenth-century Oceanic encounters exposed European anxieties about mixing commerce and friendship. See Smith, Intimate Strangers: Friendship, Exchange and Pacific Encounters (New York: Cambridge University, 2010), 104–139. 27. Henry Fielding, Preface to Familiar letters, Gale Document Number: CW3312268671. The question of Henry Fielding’s “credit” with the public NOTES 249

has a new dimension, given the way Sarah Fielding had made a public matter of her own financial distress in the Preface to the Adventures. 28. Alan B. Howes, ed. Sterne: The Critical Heritage (London and Boston: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1974), 73. Hereafter cited as CH. 29. Seeking David Garrick’s endorsement, Sterne reached out to the actor through a mutual friend, Catherine Fourmantel. Ventriloquizing his proxy, Sterne wrote to Garrick in a letter for her to copy: “You must understand, He [Sterne] is a kind & generous friend of mine whom Providence has attached to me in this part of the world where I came a stranger—& I could not think how I could make a better return than by endeavoring to make a friend to him & his Performance” (CH, 45). See Chapter 6 for a more in-depth discussion of this tactic. 30. This statement from the Sterne biographer diverges slightly from my focus here on “advertisements” published within the very books being praised, though it evinces attitudes that would have shaped perceptions of such advertisements. To be sure, there is also a much larger world of authors publicly praising those with whom they have personal relationships or share a commercial connection. Given Richardson’s established position in the publishing world, all public venerations of his genius might be suspected of ulterior motives. Beyond Richardson, one might also consider Henry Fielding’s praise for Charlotte Lennox’s The Female Quixote in the Covent- Garden Journal (no. 24), a journal officially printed and sold by Ann Dodd. As Martin C. Battestin speculates, “That Millar was the actual publisher seems clear from the fact that the paper carried no fewer than 159 advertisements for his books,” including many, like The Female Quixote, that Fielding singled out for favorable reviews. Without suggesting that Fielding himself “puffed” works he did not actually favor, at the very least, we might acknowledge that his secondary interest in aiding the commercial interests of his friend and publisher Millar posed a conflict of interest in his review of certain books, including Lennox’s novel. Following the publication of this review, Fielding seems to have befriended Lennox to some extent. See Martin C. Battestin with Ruth Battestin, Henry Fielding: A Life (Routledge: London and New York, 1989), 542–543, 584. For a discussion of Fielding’s review, see Miriam Rossiter Small, Charlotte Ramsay Lennox: an Eighteenth Century Lady of Letters (Archon Books, 1969) 94–74. For a discussion of Lennox publicly returning the favor, see Small’s discussion of Lennox’s Henrietta (Charlotte Ramsay Lennox, 135). 31. Pierre Bourdieu, “Selections from the Logic of Practice,” in The Logic of the Gift: Toward an Ethic of Generosity, ed. Alan D. Schrift (London: Routledge, 1997), 198. See also Bourdieu, Outline of a Theory of Practice, trans. Richard Nice (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 183. 250 NOTES

32. For a different application of Bourdieu’sconceptstorepresentationsof generosity in the novel, see Julie McGonegal, “The Tyranny of Gift Giving: The Politics of Generosity in Sarah Scott’s Millenium Hall and Sir George Ellison,” Eighteenth-Century Fiction 19.3 (2007): 291–306. McGonegal contends that “Scott’s texts themselves are the products of a symbolic labour that, by contributing to the maintenance of collective misrecognition, transforms interested relations into elective relations of reciprocity” (306). McGonegal does not consider how Bourdieu’s theory applies to the way Scott frames the novel with expressions of amity. While McGonegal finds glimmers of resistance to the logic of symbolic capital in Scott’s novel, the irony I find in this passage suggests that Millenium Hall’s critique of patriarchy, symbolic capital, and misrecognition is more consistent and pointed. 33. Samuel Richardson’s mid-century novels, for instance, warn readers by depicting how frequently letters end up in the hands of unintended audiences, while they also provide various instances of writers taking stock of audience reactions beyond that of their intended addressees. 34. Scott recalls these mixed motives again at the novel’s conclusion, where the narrator notes: “you may think I have been too prolix in my account of this society; but the pleasure I find in recollection is such, that I could not restrain my pen within moderate bounds. If what I have described, may tempt any one to go and do likewise, I shall think myself fortunate in communicating it” (249). 35. This gesture interestingly reverses the power dynamic inherent in literary patronage, a system considerably eroded by 1762. As the writer is the one with greater social “Consequence,” this appeal to the publisher’s judgment figures the increasing dependence of a gentleman on the power of the professional class to address a large public. 36. James Cruise, “A House Divided: Sarah Scott’s Millenium Hall,” Studies in English Literature 1500–1900 35.3 (1995): 555. 37. See Cicero, De officiis, trans. Walter Miller (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1938), 61; Michel de Montaigne, The Complete Essays of Montaigne, trans. Donald M. Frame (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1958), 140–141. 38. Alessa Johns, Women’s Utopias of the Eighteenth Century (Urbana, IL: University of Illinois Press, 2003), 107. 39. Gary Kelly, “Sarah Scott, Bluestocking Feminism, and Millenium Hall,” Introduction to A Description of Millenium Hall (Ontario: Broadview, 1995), 26. 40. See Michael McKeon, Origins of the English Novel. McKeon’sinfluential dialectic theory of the early English novel accounts for forms of virtue NOTES 251

rooted in either romance notions of birth or the individual’s ability to accumulate wealth and status in the marketplace. 41. This perspective parallels theories of labor (in works by Edmund Burke and Adam Smith) that address fears of national decay brought on by an infusion of luxuries as a consequence of trade and market economies. For a historical account of this fear, see E.J. Clery, The Feminization Debate in Eighteenth- Century England: Literature, Commerce and Luxury (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2004); J.G.A. Pocock, The Machiavellian Moment; Pocock, Virtue, Commerce, and History;JohnSekora,Luxury: The Concept in Western Thought, Eden to Smollett (Baltimore: John Hopkins University Press, 1977). 42. In addition to Hobbes and Mandeville, I am thinking of the tradition that includes Milton’s Tenure of Kings and Magistrates (1649), Locke’s Two Treatises of Government (1689), and Rousseau’s Discourse on the Origins of Inequality (1755). 43. Consider for instance Richardson’s more ambivalent depiction of female learning in Sir Charles Grandison, speciﬁcally the scene in which Harriet Byron publicly debates with Mr Walden. Samuel Richardson, The History of Sir Charles Grandison (London: Oxford University Press, 1972), 47–59. 44. For a related reading, see George Haggerty, Unnatural Affections: Women and Fiction in the Later 18th Century (Bloomington: University of Indiana Press, 1998), 88–102. Haggerty views this tension as a fear of lesbianism, seeing in Mr Morgan’s ban on friendship a “homophobia inherent to patriarchal narrative” (Unnatural Affections, 99). 45. Johns, Women’s Utopias, 101. 46. Sarah Scott, The History of Gustavus Ericson, King of Sweden (1761), quoted in Johns, Women’s Utopias, 101. 47. Bourdieu, “Selections,” 198. 48. Johanna M. Smith, “Philanthropic Community in Millenium Hall and the York Ladies Committee,” The Eighteenth Century 36.3 (1995): 269. 49. Alworth is left to focus on his children’s education and learns to tolerate his wife’s vanity, while Mrs Trentham, at Mrs Maynard’s suggestion, comes to visit and eventually reside at Millenium Hall. Harriot and Alworth are further united by the agreement that she will dictate the education of his daughter. Their conversation by letter over the child’s upbringing turns their bond into a metaphorical family constellation, or, rather, a parody of the companionate marriage ideal, in that friendship seems possible between the sexes only when they live apart. 50. Lisa L. Moore, Dangerous Intimacies: Toward a Sapphic History of the British Novel (Durham and London: Duke University Press, 1997), 39. 51. See McGonegal, “The Tyranny of Gift Giving,” 293; Moore, Dangerous Intimacies, 40; Morton, “A Most Sensible Oeconomy,” 204. 252 NOTES

CHAPTER 6 1. CH, 170. 2. CH, 170. Scott’s intervening letter was likely destroyed. See The Letters of Sarah Scott, ed. Nicole Pohl (London: Pickering and Chatto, 2014), xxv. 3. Scott sold the copyright to Sir George Ellison in January of 1766 (Letters of Sarah Scott, v.2, 12). 4. Arthur Cash, Laurence Sterne: Early and Middle Years (London: Methuen, 1975), 84. 5. Letters of Laurence Sterne (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1935), 85–86. 6. Letters,80–81. 7. Arthur Cash, Laurence Sterne: Early and Middle Years, 294. 8. Letters, 192. 9. Several illuminating studies detail Sterne’s evolving reaction to reviewers during the serial publication of Tristram Shandy. See Frank Donoghue, The Fame Machine: Book Reviewing and Eighteenth-Century Literary Careers (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1996), 56–85; Tim Parnell, “Tristram Shandy and ‘the Gutter of Time,’” Shandean 11 (1999–2000): 48–54; Shaun Regan, “Print Culture in Transition: Tristram Shandy, the Reviewers, and the Consumable Text,” Eighteenth-Century Fiction 14.3–4 (2002): 289–310. Thomas Keymer, Sterne, The Moderns, and the Novel (Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press, 2002), 102, 105. 10. Donoghue, Fame Machine, 68. 11. Donoghue, Fame Machine, 81. While not explicitly challenging Donoghue’s biographical narrative of Sterne’s career, Shaun Regan examines Sterne’s effort to undercut the reviewers by calling attention to their own professional afﬁnity with hack writers. See Regan, “Print Culture in Transition,” 289–310. 12. On the history of copyright in the early to mid-eighteenth century, see Benjamin Kaplan, An Unhurried View of Copyright (New York: Columbia University Press, 1967); Lyman Ray Patterson, Copyright in Historical Perspective (Nashville, TN: Vanderbilt University Press, 1968); John Feather, AHistoryof British Publishing (London, New York, and Sydney: Croom Helm, 1988), 74– 125; Mark Rose, Authors and Owners: The Invention of Copyright (Cambridge, Harvard University Press, 1993); Simon Stern, “Copyright, Originality, and the Public Domain in Eighteenth-Century England” in Originality and Intellectual Property in the French and English Enlightenment, ed. Reginald McGinnis (New York: Routledge, 2009), 69–101. 13. See Donoghue, Fame Machine, 75. For an extended study of Sterne’s relation to his imitators, see Warren L. Oakley, A Culture of Mimicry: Laurence Sterne, His Readers, and the Art of Bodysnatching (London: Maney Publishing for the Modern Humanities Research Association, 2010). NOTES 253

14. See Elizabeth F. Judge, “Kidnapped and Counterfeit Characters: Eighteenth-Century Fan Fiction, Copyright Law, and the Custody of Fictional Characters” in Originality and Intellectual Property in the French and English Enlightenment,22–68. Judge analyzes Richardson’s response to the “fan ﬁction” his novels generated in the context of copyright law. 15. Stern, “Copyright, Originality, and the Public Domain,” 82. 16. Gallagher, Nobody’s Story, 158. 17. As Keymer describes it: “while demanding originality, however, the reviewers were typically scathing about the kind of formal experimentation and disruption produced in response.” Keymer, Sterne and the Moderns, 55. 18. Addison’s discussion of the strange appears in Spectator 412, published 23 June 1712. The Statute of Anne took effect on 10 April 1712. 19. Spectator 409. 20. I do not mean to imply that Addison’s view of novelty was uncontested earlier in the century. Pope’s sense of “True Wit” as “what oft was thought, but ne’er so well expressed” is an aesthetic that would thrive just as well under “low threshold” protection only for verbatim word sequences. On the idea that the novel had run its course, see Keymer, Sterne and the Moderns, 54–55. 21. John Mullan, Sentiment and Sociability: The Language of Feeling in the Eighteenth-Century (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1988), 147–150. 22. James Boswell, Boswell’s Life of Johnson, v.2, 449. 23. I approach these reactions not wholly as an effect of Sterne’s style but as a reﬂection of the pre-existing tendency to evaluate books in the idiom of friendship and sociability, one that earlier authors had already long been cultivating. 24. CH, 170. 25. Alan B. Howes, Yorick and the Critics (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1958), 3. Hereafter YC. 26. Universal Museum, I (Jan 1765), 36. YC, 18. 27. Private Correspondence to David Garrick (2 vols. London, 1831–1832). I, 116–117. YC,4,6. 28. Letter 53, Citizen of the World, in Works of Oliver Goldsmith, ed. Peter Cunningham, Turk’s Head Ed. (10 vols. New York and London, Putnam’s, 1908) 4, 208–214. YC, 33. 29. “An Account of the two last Volumes of the Life of Tristram Shandy, by the ingenious Authors of the Gazette Littéraire de l’Europe,” London Chronicle, 17 (April 16–18, 1765), 373. YC, 18. Italics in original. 30. A Later Pepys, ed. Alice C. Gaussen (2 vols. London and New York, J Lane 1904), I, 219. YC, 57. 31. Monthly Review 58 (January 1778), 85; 53 YC, 57. 32. London Review, I (Appendix January–June 1775), 497. YC, 53. 254 NOTES

33. Monthly 32 [February 1765]:138 quoted in Donoghue 80. 34. Anna Seward to Rev. George Gregory, Letter of Dec 5, 1787. CH, 268. 35. Peter Walmsley, “The Melancholy Briton: Enlightenment Sources of the Gothic” in Enlightening Romanticism,39–53. 36. Thomas Gray, The Complete Poems of Thomas Gray, ed. H.W. Starr and J.R. Hendrickson (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1966), 41. For a discussion of the poem in relation to Gray’s biography along lines that complement my reading, see George Haggerty, Men in Love: Masculinity and Sexuality in the Eighteenth Century (New York: Columbia University Press, 1999), 113–135. Haggerty examines the poem’s friend figure in relation to Gray’s correspondence with his Eton College friends Richard West and Horace Walpole. 37. Gray, Complete Poems, 43. 38. Derrida, Politics of Friendship, 235. 39. Gray, Complete Poems, 43. 40. Edward Young, Night Thoughts, ed. Stephen Cornford (Cambridge, UK and New York: Cambridge University Press, 1989), 35. 41. Although it was often suggested that Young’s son Frederick was the model for Lorenzo, no details in the poem indicate this connection explicitly. While the tone that Young takes toward Lorenzo may seem paternalistic, it correlates equally well with the assumption that intimate friendship would serve as a space for moral advice. For a discussion of attempts at linking Lorenzo to Young’s friends and family, see Harold Forster, Edward Young: The Poet of Night Thoughts 1683–1765 (Erskine Press, 1986). Forster discusses two options and considers them both unconvincing. Although Young’s own son was considered a possibility, he was only 10 years old at the time of the poem’s composition. Another acquaintance, the Duke of Wharton, had had a falling-out with Young before the composition of this book. Forster ultimately sees Lorenzo as a “composite figure.” See also Edward Young, Night Thoughts, ed. Stephen Cornford. In his introduction to Young’s poem, Stephen Cornford sees Lorenzo and the poem’s speaker as “two sides of one personality” (7). While many facets of Young’s rhetoric in the poem evoke the ties of male friendship, Lord Chesterfield’s letters, as discussed in the Chapter 2 of this book, also provide an important example of the way the paternalistic regulation of one’s children might co-opt the rhetoric of friendship. On the whole, Night Thoughts, lends itself equally to this sort of reading. 42. Young, Night Thoughts, 51. 43. Young, Night Thoughts, 54. 44. Young, Night Thoughts, 63. 45. Young, Night Thoughts, 63. 46. Young, Night Thoughts, 63. NOTES 255

47. Young, Night Thoughts, 63. 48. Young’s later work, Conjectures on Original Composition in a Letter to the Author of Sir Charles Grandison (1759), echoes this association between originality, homosocial friendship, and commerce. A manifesto of sorts, the essay is notably framed as Young’s critical exchange with his literary friend Samuel Richardson, and centers around the death and literary influence of their “common-friend” Joseph Addison. Young espouses the view that nature stamps us all from the beginning with a “mark of separation” from one another, though most of us “die copies” of others after a lifetime of imitation. According to Young, literature provides the means by which we can reclaim this “mark” of our originality. In an excellent analysis of Young’s theory, Robert Chibka details the gap between Young’s articulation of originality and the way the essay itself enacts a subtler engagement with Addison’s “genius” and influence. As Chibka observes, Addison functions in the essay as a mirror for Young, a feature that undercuts Young’s own argument for wholly original genius; yet, Young sees his own reflection in Addison while making Addison appear as a “stranger” to both himself and Richardson. This logic allows Young to reconcile, in his own view at least, a reverence for ancient traditions with what he sees as the distinctly British gift for originality. At the same time, he makes the act of literary eulogy a matter of specifying what makes the dead friend an “original” in light of this developing sense of originality in mid-eighteenth-century print culture. Edward Young, Conjectures on Original Composition (1759; Leeds: The Scolar Press Limited, 1966), 42; Robert Chibka, “The Stranger Within Young’s Conjectures,” English Literary History 53.3 (1986): 541–565. 49. Although it appears decades after Tristram Shandy,Boswell’s Life of Johnson (1791) and the critical reactions it generated shed further light on eighteenth- century attitudes about tedious details in the published life of a friend. To be sure, Tristram is attempting to write his own life, not a friend’s biography (though his digressions might seem to turn the novel into a collection of biographies). While Boswell received several critical reviews, one particular response published in The Morning Herald on July 5, 1791 captures the genre dimensions of trivial detail in friendship. In “Lessons in Biography; or How to write the Life of One’s Friend,” the anonymous author satirizes Boswell by depicting a dialogue between Dr Pozz and James Pozz that ranges across topics including the History of Tommy Trip, Pozz’s Verses on Breeches (a very Shandean topic), and whether the Romans ever experienced “wind.” Assuring his companion that the Romans “knew it,” despite classical literature’ssilence on the subject, Dr Pozz concludes, “Livy wrote History. Livy was not writing the Life of a Friend.” Whereas this piece takes as its main targets Boswell’s servility, Johnson’s pomposity, and the triviality of the subject matter, it 256 NOTES

comes close to mocking rather than reveling in the humorous particulars of friendship. 50. Gallagher, Nobody’s Story, 195–202. Gallagher takes Charlotte Lennox as an instance of how the situation of the married female author could be seen as a hyperbolic emblem of the way all novelists, in the age of waning patronage, became increasingly dependent on publishers and networks of support. As Gallagher notes, Lennox became a “representation of deserving, dispos- sessed authorship, who resembled a fictional nobody in her availability for sympathetic appropriation” (Nobody’s Story, 195). This assessment underscores the sense in which authors were available as objects of sympathy and as fictional “friends” to the public in ways that paralleled but also competed with readers’ friendship with literary characters. 51. Brewer, Afterlife of Character, 78–120. In his discussion of Sterne, Brewer describes Tristram Shandy as setting up a textual aesthetics modeled on a “club of true feelers” (Afterlife of Character,154–188). In this view, rather than hectoring readers in prefaces and footnotes as Richardson had, Sterne “flatters and cajoles” his readers into a submissive posture, inviting them to accept the rules of his game as one must accept the terms of a select club or society, submitting to basic guidelines while retaining some autonomy. While Brewer usefully situates Sterne’s conversational model in the historical context of club sociability, I choose to focus on the related language around friendship, first, because these are Tristram’s explicit terms, appearing in a well-known passage that I will discuss below; second, because friendship often exceeds in degree the moderated intimacy and foolishness of club sociability. 52. Unsigned notice in the Critical Review, ix, January 1760. CH, 52. As this volumes editor notes, it is not just Cervantes’s Don Quixote but Tobias Smollett’s Peregrine Pickle that this reviewer means to evoke. 53. Sarah Fielding’s Quixote, David Simple, goes off in search of a friend. Sterne recognizes that the quixotic type should have one already. 54. The many borrowings from Don Quixote and Sancho Panza by eighteenth- century writers partly reflect the primary work’s commercial popularity and the natural momentum of appropriation in a culture predisposed to “imaginative expansion.” But the continued amicable status of the Quixote figure signifies more than the fact of circulation and the ‘iterability’ of the print medium. Brewer argues that the increasing quantity of proliferating textual copies attached a connotation of sociability to a character’s circulation in books, while the circulation of characters between novelistic and theatrical mediums reinforced their detachability from narrative frames (Afterlife of Character,79–81). 55. Robert Chibka, “The Hobby-Horse’s Epitaph: Tristram Shandy, Hamlet, and the Vehicles of Memory,” Eighteenth-Century Fiction 3. no. 2 (1991): 125–151. NOTES 257

56. Robert Alter, Partial Magic: the Novel as a Self-Conscious Genre (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1975), 39. Alter is interested in the way this literary antecedent transmits a philosophical tension to Sterne’s novel that manifests in gestures of formal reflexivity. While I am equally interested in the novel’sreflexive devices, I want to examine what is significant about these aesthetic and philosophic concepts being transmitted through the social form of friendship (the Quixote–Sancho friendship). 57. This link between quixotic idealism and the literary depiction of friendship applies to the mix of foolishness and ambition that marks many of the fictional friends discussed in this study. The quixotic mark of character carries with it the association of familiarity in advance, or, in excess of the transpired narration, with the pay-off of heightened reader attachment. 58. Barthes’s approach to character has been useful in criticism dealing with the alleged “flatness” and experiments in “roundness” that mark this develop- mental period of the British novel. Brewer, for instance, argues that eighteenth-century characterization had less to do with deep interiority and a plot-bound character history, and more to do with Barthes’s notion of a proper name operating like a “magnetic field” linking reconfigurable bun- dles of traits and possibilities (Afterlife of Character, 40). To expand on this application, we might say this theory of the proper name encompasses the ability of new writers to appropriate circulating characters, drawing on their familiarity while transforming them to suit new contexts. For a detailed comparison of Sterne’s and Barthes’s similar approaches to the autobiogra- phical form, see Katharine M. Morsberger, “Parallel Forces: Identity and Authority in Roland Barthes and Tristram Shandy,” Studies in Eighteenth- Century Culture 30 (2001): 245–267. 59. Barthes, S/Z, 68. 60. Alan Bray, The Friend (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2003), 212– 213; Richard Yeo, “John Locke on Conversation with Friends and Strangers,” Parergon 26.2 (2009): 11–37. 61. John Locke, An Essay Concerning Human Understanding (New York: Oxford University Press, 1979), Bk. 2, Ch. 33. Italics added. 62. For a broader cultural context, see Michael McKeon, Secret History, 327. Locke’s use of kinship to discuss proper and improper associations conforms to Michael McKeon’s archaeology of public/private divisions of knowledge driven by an unfolding formal process of domestication. McKeon describes the way tropes of family or familialism mediate between micro and macro- cosm, public and private, ethics and epistemology. As he puts it, “the sociopolitical utility of the familial ...is confirmed by the epistemological utility of the familiar.” 63. Locke, An Essay Concerning Human Understanding, Bk. 2, Ch. 33. 64. Spectator 225. 258 NOTES

65. Spectator 68. 66. Mee, Conversable Worlds,5. 67. Mee, Conversable Worlds, 42, 52. 68. As Mee has observed, “Sterne’s writing revels in the problem of polite regulation of meaning, winking at his reader’s knowledge of the multifarious forms of social talk and their instability” (Conversable Worlds, 79). 69. Friedman, “Remarks on Richardson,” 309–326. 70. Admittedly, Sterne is not vulnerable to the recurring hobby horse of the Cry, namely its hostility toward women’s learning. 71. Sarah Fielding and Jane Collier, The Cry: A New Dramatic Fable. In Three Volumes. ... Vol. Volume 1. London, 1754, 1. Eighteenth Century Collections Online. Gale. Grinnell College. 29 July 2016. http://ﬁnd.galegroup.com. grinnell.idm.oclc.org/ecco/infomark.do?&source=gale&prodId= ECCO&userGroupName=grin67026&tabID=T001&docId= CW3311293983&type=multipage&contentSet=ECCOArticles&version=1. 0&docLevel=FASCIMILE. Gale Document Number: CW3311293983. 72. Fielding and Collier, The Cry, Gale Document Number: CW3311293997. 73. Fielding and Collier, The Cry, Gale Document Number: CW3311294020. 74. Fielding and Collier, The Cry, Gale Document Number: CW3311294024. 75. For related readings, see Gardiner, “Friendship, Equality, and Interpretation in The Cry,” 110–133, and Friedman, “Remarks on Richardson,” 317–326. Neither Gardiner nor Friedman addresses Fielding and Collier’s rhetoric of friendship extensively, but they both observe relationship features that inter- sect with notions of ideal amity circulating in the book and the broader culture. 76. Published shortly before Volume the Last, The Cry’s treatment of quixotic friendship in the face of worldly cynicism further mitigates against the conclusions drawn by Terry and Gordon about Volume the Last, namely that Fielding ultimately abandons earthly friendship. While Fielding does experience intense grief over the loss of her three sisters in the years before publishing Volume the Last, she still enjoys the friendship of Jane Collier (though Collier would die the next year). Their co-authorship in writing The Cry and Collier’s Preface to Volume the Last would suggest that Fielding still saw this friendship as a personal support and source of literary inspiration. While she portrays the moral dilemmas and costs that the pursuit of friendship generates, she always paints the position of cynical characters as more hypocritical and unappealing. 77. Fielding and Collier, The Cry, Gale Document Number: CW3311293996. 78. Fielding and Collier, The Cry, Gale Document Number: CW3311293996. 79. For a diversity of perspectives on the sexual attitudes implicit in Sterne’s form, see Ruth Perry, “Words for Sex: the Verbal Continuum in Tristram Shandy,” Studies in the Novel 20 (1988): 27–42; Elizabeth W. Harries, NOTES 259

“Sorrows and Confessions of a Cross-Eyed Female Reader of Sterne” in Approaches to Teaching Sterne’s Tristram Shandy, ed. Melvyn New (New York: Modern Language Association, 1989), 111–117; Barbara M. Benedict, “‘Dear Madam’: Rhetoric, Cultural Politics, and the Female Reader in Sterne’s Tristram Shandy,” Studies in Philology 88 (1992): 485– 498; Juliet McMaster, “Walter Shandy, Sterne, and Gender: A Feminist Foray,” English Studies in Canada 15 (1989): 441–458; Paula Loscocco, “Can’t Live Without ’Em: Walter Shandy and the Woman Within,” The Eighteenth Century: Theory and Interpretation 32 (1991): 166–179. 80. Laurence Sterne, Letters of Laurence Sterne, ed. Lewis P. Curtis (Oxford: The Clarendon Press, 1935), 412. 81. The Letters of Laurence Sterne: Part One, 1739–1764, ed. Melvin New and Peter de Voogd, in The Florida Edition of the Works of Laurence Sterne, v.7 (Gainesville: University of Florida Press, 2008), 116. 82. Benedict, “Dear Madam,” 485–488. 83. Benedict, “Dear Madam,” 490. 84. William E. Rivers, “The Importance of Tristram’s Dear, Dear Jenny,” Interpretations 13.1 (1981): 1–9. 85. Rivers, “The Importance of Tristram’s Dear, Dear Jenny,” 8. 86. Staël, Considerations, 450. 87. Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey, ed. Barbara M. Benedict and Deirdre Le Faye (Cambridge, UK; New York: Cambridge University Press, 2006), 203. 88. Michel Foucault, Power/Knowledge: Selected Interviews and Other Writings 1972–1977, ed. Colin Gordon. (New York: Pantheon Books, 1980), 153– 154. Foucault discusses Ann Radcliffe’s ﬁction as an example of this com- pulsory transparency. 89. Samuel Johnson, The History of Rasselas, Prince of Abissinia (1759; New York: Penguin, 1976), 61–62.

CHAPTER 7 1. Mary Shelley, Frankenstein; or the Modern Prometheus, ed. by J. Paul Hunter (New York and London: W.W. Norton & Company, 1996), 154. Future in- text page references are to this edition. 2. Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Sorrows of Young Werther, trans. Michael Hulse (New York: Penguin Books, 1989), 24. 3. Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey, 107. For historical context on this remark, see Albert C. Sears, “Male Novel Reading of the 1790s, Gothic Literature and Northanger Abbey,” Persuasions: Journal of the Jane Austen Society of North America 21 (1999): 106–112. Sears consults library records from Gloucester and London to compare patterns in female and male novel 260 NOTES

reading. See also Barbara M. Benedict’s discussion of the circulating library’s inﬂuence on reading practices in “Jane Austen and the Culture of Circulating Libraries: The Construction of Female Literacy” in Revising Women: Eighteenth-Century ‘Women’s Fiction’ and Social Engagement, ed. Paula Backscheider (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2000), 147–199. Benedict’s analysis demonstrates that Austen’s depiction of various reading practices does not neatly map onto a gendered dichotomy. 4. For a discussion of the discrepancies between Coleridge and Southey that emerged over the course of their correspondence, and the effect it had on their friendship, see Gurion Taussig, Coleridge and the Idea of Friendship, 1789–1894 (Newark and London: University of Delaware Press and Associated University Presses, 2002), 116–145. 5. For Coleridge’s response to Southey regarding the role of women and servants in Pantisocracy, see Coleridge to Southey, 21 October 1794, and Coleridge to Southey, 3 November 1794, in The Collected Letters of Samuel Taylor Coleridge, ed. Earl Leslie Griggs, 6 vols (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1956–1971), 1:112–118, 121–124. 6. For an account of Coleridge’s relationship to the thought of Godwin and Burke, see Felicity James, Charles Lamb, Coleridge, and Wordsworth: Reading Friendship in the 1790s (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2008), 15–17; 30–32. James situates Coleridge, on the one hand, in contrast to Burke’s rooting of politics in local affection of family ties to defend aristocratic power, and, on the other hand, in contrast to the radical Godwin’s strict view of affections arising only from the like-minded commitment to abstract principles of justice. James cites Coleridge’s letter to Southey (September 1, 1794) in which Coleridge hails the young ass, scorned by the world as fool, as his brother and equal. Taussig likewise discusses Coleridge’s inclusion of animals in the utopian family as a mark of his departure from Godwin’s model of friendship (Coleridge and the Idea of Friendship, 125). 7. This latter notion was best indicated in the most tenuously proposed arrangement between George Burnett and the youngest sister, Martha, who turned him down “scornfully, saying that he only wanted a wife in a hurry, not her individually of all the world.” See Kathleen Jones, A Passionate Sisterhood: the Sisters, Wives, and Daughters of the Lake Poets (London: Constable, 1997), 18. 8. Coleridge to Southey, 21 October 1794, Collected Letters, 1:114–115 9. Coleridge to Southey, 23 October 1794, Collected Letters, 1:119. Taussig discusses how Coleridge’s ambivalence about the ﬁtness of women for Pantisocracy reinforces the way Coleridge and Southey construct their relationship as a superior masculine bond (Coleridge and the Idea of Friendship, 135). NOTES 261

10. William Godwin, Enquiry Concerning Political Justice (1793), vol. 3 in Political and Philosophical Writings of William Godwin, ed. Mark Philp (London: Pickering and Chatto, 1993), 49–50. 11. In fact, Godwin changed all the genders throughout this passage in a third edition, published in 1798. The chambermaid becomes a “valet,”; “wife,” and “mother” become “brother” and “father.” See Godwin, Enquiry Concerning Political Justice, ed. Isaac Kramnick (Harmondsworth and Baltimore: Penguin, 1976). 12. It is too tempting not to call out Godwin’s sleight of hand, namely his reliance on the notion that we would have foreknowledge of Fénelon’s immortality and the ability to factor in this expansive calculation of his social inﬂuence at the moment we are deciding to save him, when Telemachus is only a “conception” in the author’s mind. Godwin’s calculating sense of pure justice does not function without the arbitrary imposition of a historical frame. For Fénelon, this endpoint is Godwin’s own present moment of writing; for the chambermaid, it is the moment she becomes a chambermaid. If such a glimpse into all future contingencies were authorized, might we not also play out the logic of It’s a Wonderful Life with the chambermaid through to the end of human history? The presumption is that men can know the great potential of other men even before they have demonstrated it, and conversely, we can know the chambermaid will never amount to anything and neither will any of her children. See It’s a Wonderful Life. Directed by Frank Capra (Los Angeles: Liberty Films, 1946). 13. See Maurer, “Politics of Masculinity,” 87–110. 14. See T.J. Mathias, The Pursuits of Literature: A Satirical Poem in Four Dialogues. With Notes. 7th ed. rev. (1797; London: Printed for T. Becket, 1798). Richard Polwhele, The Unsex’d Females; a Poem. (1798; New York: Garland Publishing, 1974). This rhetoric directly challenges the way Scott’s Millenium Hall stresses the importance of multigenerational ties between female authors and intellectuals. 15. See Anne K. Mellor, “Why Women Didn’t Like Romanticism” in The Romantics and Us: Essays on Literature and Culture. ed. Gene Ruoff (New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press, 1990), 278. 16. For a study of women writers (including Wollstonecraft) responding to the reactionary discourse represented by Mathias and Polwhele, see Eleanor Ty, Unsex’d Revolutionaries: Five Women Novelists of the 1790s (Toronto and Buffalo: University of Toronto Press, 1993). 17. At the same time, it is ironic that misogynistic writers often associated the female desire for social equality with the threat posed by violent revolutionary energies. As Mellor has argued, authors such as Wollstonecraft, Shelley and Austen were likely wary of Romantic arguments for political revolution because of their rhetorical implications for women, who had 262 NOTES

for centuries been defined by and disparaged for their emotionality. Such revolutions promised little in the way of female advancement. By attend- ing to the tacit logic of fraternity underlying the political and aesthetic rhetoric of friendship, we can extend Mellor’s sense of Shelley’sresistance to radical politics. Mellor, “Why Women Didn’t Like Romanticism,” 278–281. 18. The British Critic, 9 (April 1818): 432–438. See also The Quarterly Review (January 1818), quoted in George E. Haggerty’s Gothic Fiction/Gothic Forms (University Park and London: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1989), 42. 19. As Stewart argues, this educational deprivation also underscores the ways in which Victor’s project symbolizes a re-channeling of his libido toward the erotics of profane scientific discovery and away from domestic affection. 20. Stewart, Dear Reader, 113–126. In Stewart’s reading and Percy’s Preface, Frankenstein’s ethical value is understood more as a dose of healthy entertainment than as a stimulus to active reading and its requisite expense of psychic energy: like theories of catharsis or the sublime, the imagined benefits of supernatural fictions reflect an idealized instrumentalization of entertainment as an unconscious ethical development of the self, with no burdensome tax on the reader. 21. Beth Newman, “Narratives of Seduction and the Seductions of Narrative: The Frame Structure of Frankenstein,” English Literary History 53.1 (1986): 147. 22. Bette London, “Mary Shelley, Frankenstein, and the Spectacle of Masculinity” PMLA 108.2 (1993): 253–267. Anne Mellor offers an analo- gue for this anxiety in her discussion of Victor’s fear that the female monster will not submit to the control of men. See “The Female in Frankenstein” in Romanticism and Feminism, ed. Mellor (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1988), 224–225. 23. Sandra Gilbert and Susan Gubar, The Madwoman in the Attic (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1979), 213–247. Barbara Johnson, A World of Difference (Baltimore, MD. Johns Hopkins University Press, 1987), 144– 154. See also Alan Richardson’s discussion of the creature in light of eighteenth-century women’s education in “From Emile to Frankenstein: the Education of Monsters,” European Romantic Review 1.2 (1991): 147–162. 24. Mellor contrasts what she sees as a Frankenstein family that emphasizes individualism with the novel’s other domestic ideal, the De Lacy family, as one that inspires communal obligation (“The Female in Frankenstein,” 222–223). While elements of Victor’s upbringing corroborate this perception, it is important to recognize that he also describes his family inconsis- tently as one in which individual will is subsumed to familial affection. NOTES 263

25. Mary Poovey, The Proper Lady and the Woman Writer: Ideology as Style in the Works of May Wollstonecraft, Mary Shelley and Jane Austen (Chicago: Chicago University Press, 1984), 114–142. 26. Derrida, The Politics of Friendship, 153. 27. In this respect, Shelley’s critique of Walton and Frankenstein’s relationship is not simply a homophobic response to erotic desire between men, as others have suggested, but a reaction to the naïve model by which desire and otherness is spontaneously communicated. 28. Lawrence Lipking has cautioned against seeing Frankenstein as a critique of Romanticism, primarily because such readings invite reductive approaches to the diversity of views held by Romantic writers. Instead, he suggests seeing Shelley as more like than unlike her contemporaries, to the extent that she has inherited a contradictory set of feelings about human nature that can, in Lipking’s view, be traced back to Rousseau’s Emile. For the extent of Mary Shelley’s biographical relations to Rousseau’s work, and Emile especially, see Lipking, “Frankenstein, the True Story” in Frankenstein, Norton Critical Edition, 321–322. For an alternative bridge by way of eighteenth-century female education, see Richardson, “From Emile to Frankenstein.” 29. Just as Walton has read only stories of adventure, Rousseau famously decides that Robinson Crusoe will be the only book Emile will read in his early adolescence (though admittedly he incorporates other forms of reading later on). See Emile, 184. Prefacing his discussion of Robinson Crusoe,he remarks: “I hate books. They only teach one to talk about what one does not know.” In general, Rousseau does not see textual culture as integral to the cultivation or practice of sympathy. 30. I am thinking of William Wordsworth’s “Expostulation and Reply,” and “The Tables Turned; an Evening Scene, on the Same Subject” from Lyrical Ballads (1798), as well as the complex relationship between the instruction of Nature and textual cultures in Books 3 and 5 of The Prelude (1805). As with the preceding discussion of Tintern Abbey, Wordsworth’s words and ideas ﬁgure in the novel in close connection with the aspects of male friendship that Shelley seeks to critique. See William Wordsworth and Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Lyrical Ballads: 1798 and 1800, eds. Michael Gamer and Dahlia Porter (Peterborough, ON: Broadview Press, 2008), 134–137; William Wordsworth, The Prelude, 1799, 1805, 1850, ed. Jonathan Wordsworth, M.H. Abrams, and Stephen Gill (New York: Norton, 1979). 31. Garrett Stewart’s comments on an early draft of this chapter pointed me toward this implication of Frankenstein’s tone. 32. Once more, this ﬁnal imagined apostrophe to the dead serves to corroborate the sense that Frankenstein’s own apostrophic interjections to dead friends have all along been oriented principally toward the creature’s destruction. 264 NOTES

Unlike the motives for apostrophic memorialization in Tristram Shandy, Frankenstein reveals how portraits of and apostrophes to dead friends, by compelling sympathy and obligation, serve as a kind of rallying cry against the enemy: the transfer from narrator to narratee of this right to conjure the dead against the enemy is one principal outcome of the narration. 33. A similar logic appears in Derrida’s discussion of the cogito (The Politics of Friendship, 224). 34. Stewart, Dear Reader, 121. 35. The phrase “apt moral” appears in Shelley’s revised 1831 edition. Shelley elaborates further on the narrative frame and the story’s didactic value for Walton in the later edition. 36. Walton and Frankenstein’s bond may at ﬁrst seem to extend the ethos of presumptive transparency between men glimpsed in Tristram Shandy—in a sense, this is what critics have observed about “representational transparency” in their communications. While Frankenstein has his narrative in better order than Tristram does, his disorders are of another sort, and his presumed intimacy with Walton allows a safe space for confession. Yet, Frankenstein’s narration sharply contrasts with Sterne’s model insofar as Victor is obsessed with not seeming like a fool, which, in this case, means not being believed. While Tristram stands as an emblem of male ego unafraid to discuss bodily mutilations and foolish thoughts, Victor’s intimacy with Walton belies his efforts to micromanage his heroic image. 37. Eric Daffron, “Male Bonding: Sympathy and Shelley’s Frankenstein,” Nineteenth-Century Contexts 21.3 (1999): 415–435. 38. Daffron measures Walton’s actions in terms derived from Michel Foucault and Elspeth Probyn. He applies Foucault’s concept of care to facets of Walton’s conduct in a general and abbreviated way in the article’s conclusion. Several of the features that Daffron identiﬁes as care in this relationship (including Walton’s formation of friendship beyond family circles, his abrupt prioritization of recording Frankenstein’s story over his other duties, and his use of textuality as a supplement to embodied interactions in friendship) I see as symptomatic of this fraternal friendship’s debilitating ideals. 39. Jeanne M. Britton, “Novelistic Sympathy in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein” Studies in Romanticism. 48.1 (2009): 3. 40. Goethe, Werther, 24. 41. Whether or not Shelley knew about the epigraph to Werther, she absorbed the novel’s depiction of the epistolary relationship between Werther and his absent friend Wilhelm. The overarching editorial frame of the novel would have been evident to Shelley through the novel’s conclusion, in which Wilhelm performs the duties of completing the narrative after Werther’s death. Shelley’s journals do not offer any information about the edition of Werther that she read in 1815. See The Journals of Mary Shelley, 1814–1844, NOTES 265

ed. Paula R. Feldman and Diana Scott-Kilvert (Oxford: Clarendon Press; New York: Oxford University Press, 1987), 88. An editorial footnote reads “several editions, including R. Graves, The Sorrows of Werter (1779).” Shelley may have read the anonymous 1779 English edition, possibly translated by either Richard Graves or Daniel Malthus, which was reprinted several times in subsequent decades. Several English editions started including the epigraph, beginning with John Gifford’s 1789 translation. The creature presumably reads a French translation, though which one is anybody’sguess. 42. As with Sterne’s Tristram, the isolation of character becomes a precondition for the presentation of interiority as an invitation to intimacy and sympathy, though in this case the logic of isolation extends to encompass the reader. 43. See Roswitha Burwick, “Goethe’s Werther and Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein,” The Wordsworth Circle 24.1 (1993), 47–52. Burwick writes: “The voices of the two male “editors” attempt to solicit the reader’s sympathy and compas- sion for their protagonist’s sensibility and sufferings. The author Mary Shelley and the “editor,” Margaret Saville, (note the same initials M.S.), use the male discourse for their albeit silent commentary. Margaret does not manipulate the reader but receives, preserves and presents her brother’stalewithout comment” (50). I wish to build on the way Burwick links Margaret’s “silent commentary” to Werther, but I differ with her assessment only in noting that readers cannot take for granted that Margaret figures as an editor the way that Goethe’s Wilhelm does. As Shelley’s later novel The Last Man demonstrates, her fictions do not explicitly connect the world of the story and the narrator’s act of writing to an apparatus of editing, publication, distribution, and reader reception, in the way that, say, Robinson Crusoe or Werther do. In Frankenstein, the Gothic aura of textuality itself derives partly from the fact that we do not know whether or not Walton’s letters ever reach Margaret. My reading of the novel is limited to the way Walton inscribes Margaret within the text as an addressee and the way this inscription invites the reader to imagine Margaret’s potential reception of the narrative. 44. Burwick does not dwell on what I think is a highly productive point of comparison between the framing of Werther and Frankenstein. She seems to conclude that Margaret’s silence, like that of other women in the novel, represents Shelley’s own effort to secure a private self from the harsh public eye turned on her mother (“Goethe’s Werther and Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein,” 52). I do not dispute that this family history overshadows Shelley’s sense of her own authorship and her ability to be overtly didactic, though I do wish to locate Margaret’s silence within the more comprehen- sive though veiled critique of male friendship that animates the novel. 45. Britton, “Novelistic Sympathy,” 10–12, 16–18. Britton argues that the creature’ssympathywithSafie, reflected in his act of copying her letters, affirms the novel’s larger investment in the textual mediation of sympathy. 266 NOTES

I ﬁnd Britton’s reading persuasive and complementary to my exploration of the friendship structures that inform the symbolic meaning of sympathetic acts. 46. Such crossings are implicit in Shelley’s own reading of Werther as a female reader engaging with Goethe’s sympathetic depiction of an alienated young man. 47. Christopher C. Nagle, Sexuality and the Culture of Sensibility in the British Romantic Era (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2007), 124. 48. Nagle, Sexuality and the Culture of Sensibility, 125. 49. See for instance Paul Goring, The Rhetoric of Sensibility in Eighteenth- Century Culture (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005), 40, 47. Goring discusses the eighteenth-century revisions to classical oratory paradigms. Treatises such as A System of Oratory (1759) by John Ward and Traitté do L’Action de L’Orateur (1657, trans. 1702) by Michel Le Faucheur paralleled the emerging “science” of pathognomy, which strove to understand the exteriorized legibility of emotional states. These treatises operated on the assumption that a universally comprehensible language of the body could be recognized and disseminated. Ward in particular argued that elocutionists could make their passions contagious. As Goring writes of Ward, “The potential for sympathetic infection was seen as inherently physiological, with transference of passions occurring as a physical event” (40). Walton’s initial desire for sensible friendship is conceived as a physical event in terms that echo this discourse of bodily eloquence and extra-verbal communication. 50. As cited above, these include readings by Gilbert and Gubar, Poovey, Johnson, and Richardson. 51. Nagle, Sexuality and the Culture of Sensibility, 141. 52. The repeated effect on Frankenstein of the creature’s grin exempliﬁes this problem. 53. Walton too participates in this power structure in fawning over Frankenstein’s picturesque appearance. Despite Frankenstein’s ravaged state, Walton recognizes the beauty of what Victor once was, and describes Frankenstein’s countenance possessing a “beam of benevolence and sweetness I never saw equaled” (14). 54. In this respect, Shelley’s critique of Walton and Frankenstein’s relationship is not simply a homophobic response to erotic desire between men, but, rather, a reaction to the naïve model by which desire and otherness is spontaneously communicated. NOTES 267

CHAPTER 8 1. John Ruskin, Sesame and Lilies, ed. Deborah Epstein Nord (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 2002), 30–31. 2. Marcel Proust, On Reading, trans. Jean Autret and William Burford (New York: Macmillan Company, 1971), 31. 3. Ruskin, Sesame and Lilies, 32. 4. For a rare attempt to put the terms of contemporary fan culture in dialogue with eighteenth-century reading practices, see Judge, “Kidnapped and Counterfeit Characters,” 22–68. While fandom seems an obvious evolution of early modern and modern reading and audience practices, the anachro- nistic application of the term fan can lead to the neglect or marginalization of the period’s own loaded terms (such as friendship) that eighteenth- century readers used themselves. Moreover, fandom critics often point to the historical correlation between a phase of modernity and the emergence of the fan identity. See for instance Fandom: Identities and Communities in a Mediated World, ed. Jonathan Gray, Cornel Sandvoss, and C. Lee Harrington (New York and London: New York University Press, 2007). In the Introduction to that volume, the editors describe a “deep-seared symbiosis between the cultural practice and perspective of being a fan and industrial modernity at large” (9). They write: “perhaps the most important contribution of contemporary research into fan audiences thus lies in furthering our understanding of how we form emotional bonds with our- selves and others in a modern mediated world” (10). Yet, in the volume’s Afterword, Henry Jenkins also notes that critics should “deal with fandom as a set of historically speciﬁc practices and cultural logics that have shifted profoundly over the past decade, let alone in the course of the past several centuries” (364). Ultimately, I prefer broader categories such as reception studies or media studies, which offer a rubric for placing the concepts of friendship and fandom within a genealogy of audience practices, thereby allowing us to recognize the striking parallels that Judge discusses, while still avoiding the temptation to make fandom a trans-historical category. Many terms tied to Internet reading and writing practices in the discourse of fan studies have discernible antecedents in eighteenth-century reading practices. See, for instance, the glossary terms “textual poaching” and “narrative activism” in Mark Duffet, Understanding Fandom: An Introduction to the Study of Media Fan Culture (New York and London: Bloomsbury, 2013). 5. Translating the print conﬂation of solitude and intimate communion to the digital age, the bookstore Barnes and Noble® introduced its digital reading device, the Nook®, with the humanizing accessory, a durable book jacket inscribed with this maxim attributed to Sir Christopher Wren. 268 NOTES

6. Booth, The Company We Keep, 196. Similarly, Derrida remarks that “friendship should always be poetic. Before being philosophical, friendship concerns the gift of the poem” (Politics of Friendship, 166). While Derrida scrutinizes what we would mean by friendship and gift, these terms are very close to Wayne Booth’s description of the novel Tom Jones as a ‘gift from a friend.’ Other readers, including Adam Zachary Newton and James Phelan, have questioned this ethical vocabulary. See Newton’s Narrative Ethics (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1995) and Phelan’s Living to Tell About It: A Rhetoric and Ethics of Character Narration (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2004). Newton’s critique arises out of his preference for the paradigm of Levinasian otherness. But I would suggest that the cultural significance of friendship in the eighteenth century, as a discourse that forges a dialogue of the secular and sacred, the self and the other, provides historical texture for the exploration of alternative ethical paradigms, including the one offered by Levinas. Phelan, by contrast, finds any predetermined framework too limiting and prefers to let the individual text set the terms of its reflexivity. I find this sensible and not opposed to the way I have tried to ground my readings in the terms set by individual novelists. Tracing the origins and legacy of this historical phenomenon through literary history would offer a more qualified and inductive way of reconciling Phelan’s and Booth’s approaches to ethical criticism. 7. Deidre Shauna Lynch, Loving Literature: A Cultural History (Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press, 2015), 22. While I take up the rhetoric of eighteenth-century fiction as part of this larger history that Lynch defines, I see friendship as the predominant though not all-encom- passing affective framework that authors draw upon consistently. In Loving Literature, Lynch explores a broader range of affective terms that help to “personalize” literature. Despite the title of Part 1 (“Choosing an author as you choose a friend”), only in passing does Lynch note the Aristotelian view of friendship, and this stands as the book’s only engagement with a specific philosophical or cultural friendship ideal. 8. For one concerned and one optimistic view of the way digital simulations and mediations will affect human relationships in the twenty-first century, see Sherry Turkle, Alone Together: Why We Expect More from Technology and Less from Each Other (New York: Basic Books, 2011); Eric Schmidt and Jared Cohen, The New Digital Age: Reshaping the Future of People, Nations and Business (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2013). Turkle strives to take a nuanced view of technology, cautioning against its threat to human relationships while not embracing an extremely technophobic position. Yet, the human concepts she wishes to preserve, such as “solitude, deliberateness, NOTES 269 and living fully in the moment” are not themselves adequately subjected to critical or historical inquiry (296). Schmidt and Cohen try to qualify their optimism about the expansion of “connectivity,” but their epistemology falls into a positivistic view of human connectivity as a necessarily liberating exchange of information. As they write, “Attempts to contain the spread of connectivity or curtail people’s access will always fail over a long enough period of time—information, like water, will always find a way through” (254). At the same time, they credit humanity with conventional virtues that exceed this paradigm: “We will use human intelligence for judgment, intui- tion, nuance and uniquely human interactions” (255, my italics). In both cases, exactly what constitutes “uniquely human” interactions remains an underdeveloped yet foundational idea, driving both pessimism and optimism about future mediations of human or post-human ties. BIBLIOGRAPHY

Adorno, Theodor and Max Horkheimer. Dialectic of Enlightenment (1944). New York: Continuum, 1982. Agamben, Giorgio. What is an Apparatus? And Other Essays. Trans. David Kishik and Stefan Pedatella. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2009. Allestree, Richard. The Whole Duty of Man: Laid Down in a Plain and Familiar Way for the Use of all, But Especially the Meanest Reader (1658). London: John Baskett, 1724. Alter, Robert. Partial Magic: the Novel as a Self-Conscious Genre. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1975. Aristotle. The Works of Aristotle, Translated into English Under the Editorship of W.D. Ross. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1908–1952. Armstrong, Nancy. Desire and Domestic Fiction: A Political History of the Novel. New York: Oxford University Press, 1987. Astell, Mary. A Serious Proposal to the Ladies, Part I & II (1694, 1697). Ed. Patricia Springborg. London: Pickering and Chatto, 1997. Astell, Mary and John Norris. Mary Astell and John Norris: Letters Concerning the Love of God. Ed. E. Derek Taylor and Melvyn New. Hertfordshire: Ashgate, 2005. Austen, Jane. Northanger Abbey (1817). Ed. Barbara M. Benedict and Deirdre Le Faye. Cambridge, UK, and New York: Cambridge University Press, 2006. Backscheider, Paula R. Elizabeth Singer Rowe and the Development of the English Novel Baltimore: John Hopkins University Press, 2013. Bacon, Francis. A Harmony of the Essays, etc. of Francis Bacon. Ed. Edward Arber. Westminster: A. Constable and Co., 1895.

© The Author(s) 2017 271 B. Mangano, Fictions of Friendship in the Eighteenth-Century Novel, Palgrave Studies in the Enlightenment, Romanticism and the Cultures of Print, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-48695-6 272 BIBLIOGRAPHY

Bakhtin, M.M. “The Epic and the Novel: Towards a Methodology for the Study in the Novel.” The Dialogic Imagination. Ed. Michael Holquist. Austin: University of Texas Press, 1981. Bannet, Eve Tavor. “The Bluestocking Sisters: Women’s Patronage, Millenium Hall, and ‘The Visible Providence of a Country.’” Eighteenth-Century Life 30:1 (2006): 25–55. ———. Empire of Letters: Letter Manuals and Transatlantic Correspondence, 1688–1820. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005. Barker-Benﬁeld, G.J. The Culture of Sensibility: Sex and Society in Eighteenth- Century Britain. Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press, 1992. Barney, Richard. Plots of Enlightenment. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1999. Barthes, Roland. “The Death of the Author.” Modern Criticism and Theory: A Reader. Ed. David Lodge. London and New York: Longman, 1988, 167–172. ———. S/Z (1970). Trans. Richard Miller. New York: Hill and Wang, 1974. Battestin, Martin with Ruth Battestin. Henry Fielding: A Life. Routledge: London and New York, 1989. Beattie, James. Dissertations Moral and Critical. On Memory and Imagination. On Dreaming. The Theory of Language. On Fable and Romance. On the Attachments of Kindred. Illustrations on Sublimity. By James Beattie, LL. D. Professor of Moral Philosophy and Logick in the Marischal College and University of Aberdeen; and Member of the Zealand Society of Arts and Sciences. London, MDCCLXXXIII. [1783]. Eighteenth Century Collections Online. Gale. Grinnell College. 17 Aug. 2016. http://ﬁnd.galegroup.com.grinnell. idm.oclc.org/ecco/infomark.do?&source=gale&prodId=ECCO &user GroupName=grin67026&tabID=T001&docId=CW3319057024&type= multipage&contentSet=ECCOArticles&version=1.0&docLevel= FASCIMILE. Gale Document Number: CW3319057024. Bender, John. Imagining the Penitentiary: Fiction and the Architecture of Mind in Eighteenth-Century England. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1989. ———. “Novel Knowledge: Judgment, Experience, Experiment.” This is Enlightenment. Ed. Clifford Siskin and William Warner. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2010, 284–300. Benedict, Barbara M. “‘Dear Madam’: Rhetoric, Cultural Politics, and the Female Reader in Sterne’s Tristram Shandy.” Studies in Philology 88 (1992): 485–488. ———. “Jane Austen and the Culture of Circulating Libraries: The Construction of Female Literacy”. Revising Women: Eighteenth-Century “Women’s Fiction” and Social Engagement. Ed. Paula Backscheider. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2000, 147–199. Blewett, David, ed. Passion and Virtue: Essays on the Novels of Samuel Richardson, Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2001. Booth, Wayne C. The Company We Keep: An Ethics of Fiction. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1988. BIBLIOGRAPHY 273

———. The Rhetoric of Fiction. 2nd edn. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1983. Bostock, David. Aristotle’s Ethics. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000. Boswell, James. Boswell’s Life of Johnson. Ed. George B. Hill and L.F. Powell. 6 vols. Oxford: The Clarendon Press, 1934–1950. Bourdieu, Pierre. Outline of a Theory of Practice. Trans. Richard Nice. Cambridge: Cambridge University, 1993. ———. “Selections from the Logic of Practice.” The Logic of the Gift: Toward an Ethic of Generosity. Ed. Alan D. Schrift. London: Routledge, 1997, 190–230. Bray, Alan. The Friend. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2003. Bree, Linda. Sarah Fielding. New York: Twayne, 1996. Brewer, David A. The Afterlife of Character, 1726–1825. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania, 2005. The British Critic. 9 (April 1818): 432–438. Britton, Jeanne M. “Novelistic Sympathy in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein.” Studies in Romanticism 48:1 (2009): 3–22. Broadie, Sarah. Ethics with Aristotle. New York: Oxford University Press, 1991. Budd, Adam. “Why Clarissa Must Die: Richardson’s Tragedy and Editorial Heroism,” Eighteenth-Century Life 31:3 (Fall 2007): 1–28. Bueler, Lois, ed. Clarissa: the Eighteenth Century Response: 1747–1804. Vol. 1: Reading Clarissa. New York: AMS Press, 2010. ———, ed. Clarissa’s Plots. Newark: University of Delaware Press, 1994. Burwick, Roswitha. “Goethe’s Werther and Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein.” The Wordsworth Circle 24:1 (1993): 47–52. Carnell, Rachel K., “Clarissa’s Treasonable Correspondence: Gender, Epistolary Politics, and the Public Sphere.” Passion and Virtue: Essays on the Novels of Samuel Richardson. Ed. David Blewett. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2001. Cash, Arthur. Laurence Sterne: Early and Middle Years. London: Methuen, 1975. Cervantes Saavedra, Miguel de. The History of the Renowned Don Quixote de la Mancha. Trans. by Several Hands: And Publish’d by Peter Motteux. Rev. J. Ozell. 4 vols. London, 1725. Chesterfield, Phillip Dormer Stanhope, Fourth Earl of, Lord Chesterfield’s Letters. Ed. David Roberts. New York: Oxford University Press, 2008. Chibka, Robert. “The Hobby-Horse’s Epitaph: Tristram Shandy, Hamlet, and the Vehicles of Memory.” Eighteenth-Century Fiction 3:2 (1991): 125–151. ———. “The Stranger Within Young’s Conjectures.” English Literary History 53:3 (1986): 541–565. Cicero, De officiis. Trans. Walter Miller. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1938. Clery, E.J. The Feminization Debate in Eighteenth-Century England: Literature, Commerce and Luxury. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2004. 274 BIBLIOGRAPHY

Cohn, Dorrit. Transparent Minds: Narrative Modes for Presenting Consciousness in Fiction. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1978. Coleridge, Samuel Taylor. The Collected Letters of Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Ed. Earl Leslie Griggs. 6 vols. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1956–1971. ———. The Friend: A Series of Essays, in Three Volumes, to Aid in the Formation of Fixed Principles in Politics, Morals, and Religion with Literary Amusements Interspersed. London: R. Fenner, 1818. Cook, Elizabeth Heckendorn. Epistolary Bodies: Gender and Genre in the Eighteenth- Century Republic of Letters. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1996. Cruise, James. “A House Divided: Sarah Scott’s Millenium Hall.” Studies in English Literature 1500–1900 35:3 (1995): 555–573. Daffron, Eric. “Male Bonding: Sympathy and Shelley’s Frankenstein.,” Nineteenth-Century Contexts 21:3 (1999): 415–435. Defoe, Daniel. The Life, Adventures, and Pyracies of the Famous Captain Singleton (1720). London: Oxford University Press, 1969. ———. Robinson Crusoe (1719). Ed. Evan R. Davis. Ontario: Broadview, 2010. Derrida, Jacques. The Politics of Friendship. Trans. George Collins. New York: Verso, 1997. Donoghue, Frank. The Fame Machine: Book Reviewing and Eighteenth-Century Literary Careers. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1996. Duffet, Mark. Understanding Fandom: An Introduction to the Study of Media Fan Culture. New York and London: Bloomsbury, 2013. Eagleton, Terry. The Rape of Clarissa: Writing, Sexuality and Class Struggle in Samuel Richardson. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1982. Eaves, T.C. Duncan and Ben D. Kimpel. Samuel Richardson: A Biography. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1971. Eger, Elizabeth and Lucy Peltz. Brilliant Women: 18th Century Bluestockings. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2008. Ellis, Markman. “‘An Author in Form’: Women Writers, Print Publication, and Elizabeth Montagu’s Dialogues of the Dead.” English Literary History 79:2 (2012): 417–445. Feather, John. A History of British Publishing. London, New York, and Sydney: Croom Helm, 1988. Fielding, Henry. The History of Tom Jones (1749). Ed. Sheridan Baker. 2nd edn. New York: Norton, 1995. ———. Joseph Andrews (1742). Ed. Martin C. Battestin. Middleton: Wesleyan University Press, 1967. Fielding, Sarah. The Adventures of David Simple (1745). Ed. Macolm Kelsall. New York: Oxford University Press, 1987. ———. The Adventures of David Simple; and, the Adventures of David Simple, Volume the Last (1744; 1753). Ed. Peter Sabor. Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 1998. BIBLIOGRAPHY 275

———. Familiar Letters Between the Principal Characters in David Simple, and Some Others. To Which is Added, A Vision. By the Author of David Simple. In Two Volumes. ...Vol. Volume 1. London, 1747. Eighteenth Century Collections Online. Gale. Grinnell College. 29 July 2016 http://ﬁnd.galegroup.com.grin nell.idm.oclc.org/ecco/infomark.do?&source=gale&prodId=ECCO &user GroupName=grin67026&tabID=T001&docId=CW3312268661&type= multipage&contentSet=ECCOArticles&version=1.0&docLevel=FAS CIMILE. Gale Document Number: CW3312268661. ———. The Governess; or, the Little Female Academy (1749). Ontario: Broadview, 2005. ———. Remarks on Clarissa (1749). Los Angeles: William Andrews Clark Memorial Library, 1985. Fielding, Sarah and Jane Collier. Fielding, Sarah. The Cry: A New Dramatic Fable. In Three Volumes. ... Vol. Volume 1. London, 1754. Eighteenth Century Collections Online. Gale. Grinnell College. 29 July 2016. http:// ﬁnd.galegroup.com.grinnell.idm.oclc.org/ecco/infomark.do?&source= gale&prodId=ECCO&userGroupName=grin67026&tabID= T001&docId=CW3311293970&type=multipage&contentSet= ECCOArticles&version=1.0&docLevel=FASCIMILE. Gale Document Number: CW3311293970. Flynn, Carol Houlihan. Samuel Richardson: A Man of Letters. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1982. Forster, Harold. Edward Young: The Poet of Night Thoughts 1683–1765. Erskine Press, 1986. Foucault, Michael. Power/Knowledge: Selected Interviews and Other Writings 1972–1977. Ed. Colin Gordon. New York: Pantheon Books, 1980. ———. “What is an Author?” Partisan Review 42 (1975): 603–614. Fowler, James. Richardson and the Philosophes. Oxford: Legenda, 2014. Friedman, Emily C. “Remarks on Richardson: Sarah Fielding and the Rational Reader.” Eighteenth Century Fiction 22:2 (2009–2010): 309–326. Gallagher, Catherine. Nobody’s Story: The Vanishing Acts of Women Writers in the Marketplace, 1670–1820. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1994. ———. “The Rise of Fictionality.” The Novel: Volume 1, History, Geography, and Culture. Ed. Franco Moretti. Princeton and Oxford: Princeton University Press, 2006. Gardiner, Ellen. Regulating Readers: Gender and Literary Criticism in the Eighteenth-Century Novel. Newark: University of Delaware Press, 1999. Gautier, Gary. “Henry and Sarah Fielding on Romance and Sensibility.” Novel: A Forum on Fiction 31:2 (1998): 195–214. Gilbert, Sandra and Susan Gubar. The Madwoman in the Attic. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1979. 276 BIBLIOGRAPHY

Gillis, Christina Marsden. The Paradox of Privacy: Epistolary Form in “Clarissa.” Gainesville: University Presses of Florida, 1984. Godwin, William. “An Enquiry Concerning Political Justice: Variants” (1793–1798). Political and Philosophical Writings of William Godwin. Vol. 3. Ed. Mark Philp. Gen. Ed. Mark Philp. London: Pickering and Chatto, 1993. Goethe, Johann Wolfgang Von. Sorrows of Young Werther (1774). Trans. Michael Hulse. New York: Penguin Books, 1989. Gordon, Scott Paul. The Practice of Quixotism: Post-Modern Theory and Eighteenth-Century Women’s Writing. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2006. Goring, Paul. Rhetoric of Sensibility in Eighteenth-Century Culture. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2005. Gray, Jonathan, Cornel Sandvoss, and C. Lee Harrington, eds. Fandom: Identities and Communities in a Mediated World. New York and London: New York University Press, 2007. Gray, Thomas. The Complete Poems of Thomas Gray; English, Latin and Greek. Ed. H. W. Starr and J. R. Hendrickson. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1966. Greene, Jody. “Captain Singleton: An Epic of Mitsein?” The Eighteenth-Century: Theory and Interpretation 52:3–4 (2011): 403–421. Gregg, Stephen. “Singleton, Friendship, and Secrecy.” Defoe’s Writing and Manliness: Contrary Men. Farnham, England and Burlington, Vermont: Ashgate, 2009. Greider, Josephine. “Introduction” Friendship in Death in Twenty Letters from the Dead to the Living (1728). Ed. Josephine Greider. New York: Garland Publishing, Inc., 1972, 5–14. Guillory, John. “Enlightening Mediation.” This is Enlightenment. Ed. Clifford Siskin and William Warner. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2010, 37–63. Habermas, Jürgen. The Structural Transformation of the Public Sphere: An Inquiry into a Category of Bourgeois Society. Trans. Thomas Burger with the Assistance of Frederick Lawrence. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 1989. Haggerty, George E. Gothic Fiction/Gothic Forms. University Park and London: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1989. ———. Horace Walpole’s Letters: Masculinity and Friendship in the Eighteenth Century. Lewisberg: Bucknell University Press, 2011. ———. Unnatural Affections: Women and Fiction in the Later 18th Century. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1998. Harries, Elizabeth W. “Sorrows and Confessions of a Cross-Eyed Female Reader of Sterne.” Approaches to Teaching Sterne’s Tristram Shandy. Ed. Melvyn New. New York: Modern Language Association, 1989, 111–117. Howes, Alan B., ed. Sterne: The Critical Heritage. London and Boston: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1974. ———, ed. Yorick and the Critics. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1958. BIBLIOGRAPHY 277

James, Felicity. Charles Lamb, Coleridge and Wordsworth: Reading Friendship in the 1790s. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2008. Jenkins, Eugenia. “Defoe’s Trinkets: Figuring Global Commerce in the Early Eighteenth Century.” Global Economies, Cultural Currencies of the Eighteenth Century. New York: AMS Press, 1992, 197–214. Johns, Alessa. Women’s Utopias of the Eighteenth Century. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 2003. Johnson, Samuel. A Dictionary of the English Language: in Which the Words are Deduced from their Originals, and Illustrated in their Different Signiﬁcations by Examples from the Best Writers. To Which are Preﬁxed, a History of the Language, and an English Grammar. London: W. Strahan, 1755. ———. The History of Rasselas, Prince of Abissinia (1759). New York: Penguin, 1976. ———. The Major Works. New York: Oxford University Press, 2008. ———. The Idler and the Adventurer. Ed. W.J. Bate, John M. Bullitt, and L. F. Powell. Yale Edition of the Works of Samuel Johnson. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1963. Jones, Emrys D. Friendship and Allegiance in Eighteenth-Century Literature: The Politics of Private Virtue in the Age of Walpole. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2013. Jones, Kathleen. A Passionate Sisterhood: The Sisters, Wives, and Daughters of the Lake Poets. London: Constable, 1997. Jonson, Ben, “To His Honoured Friend, Mr. John Selden, Health.” Titles of Honor. By John Selden. London: W. Stansby for J. Helme, 1614. Judge, Elizabeth F., “Kidnapped and Counterfeit Characters: Eighteenth- Century Fan Fiction, Copyright Law, and the Custody of Fictional Characters.” Originality and Intellectual Property in the French and English Enlightenment. Ed. Reginald McGinnis. New York: Routledge, 2009, 22–68. Kaplan, Benjamin. An Unhurried View of Copyright. New York: Columbia University Press, 1967. Keener, Frederick M. English Dialogues of the Dead: A Critical History, an Anthology, and a Check List. New York: Columbia, 1973. Kelly, Gary. “Sarah Scott, Bluestocking Feminism, and Millenium Hall.” Introduction. A Description of Millenium Hall. By Sarah Scott. Ontario: Broadview, 1995. Keymer, Thomas. “Clarissa’s Death, Clarissa’s Sale, and the Text of the Second Edition.” Review of English Studies 45:179 (1994): 389–396. ———. Richardson’s Clarissa and the Eighteenth-Century Reader. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992. ———. Sterne, The Moderns, and the Novel. Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press, 2002. Kibbie, Ann. “The Estate, the Corpse, and the Letter: Posthumous Possession in Clarissa.” English Literary History 74:1 (Spring 2007): 117–143. 278 BIBLIOGRAPHY

Kim, James. “Mourning, Melancholia, and Modernity: Sentimental Irony and Downward Mobility in David Simple.” Eighteenth Century Fiction 22:3 (2010): 477–502. Kvande, Marta. “Printed in a Book: Negotiating Print and Manuscript Cultures in Fantomina and Clarissa. ” Eighteenth-Century Studies 46:2 (2013): 239–257. Lams, Victor J. Clarissa’s Narrators. New York: Peter Lang, 2001. “Lessons in Biography; or How to write the Life of One’s Friend.” The Morning Herald. 5 July 1791. “Libri Amicorum: Friendship and Autographs.” Anne Wagner. Untitled Manuscript. New York Public Library Digital Gallery. Web. 29 March 2013. http://digitalcollections.nypl.org/collections/anne-wagner-album-1795- 1834#/?tab=about Lipking, Lawrence, “Frankenstein, the True Story.” Frankenstein; or the Modern Prometheus, By Mary Shelley. Ed. J. Paul Hunter. New York and London: W.W. Norton & Company, 1996, 313–331. Lipsedge, Karen. “Representations of the Domestic Parlour in Samuel Richardson’s Clarissa,1747–1748.” Eighteenth-Century Fiction 17:3 (2005): 391–423. Locke, John. An Essay Concerning Human Understanding (1690). New York: Oxford University Press, 1979. London, Bette. “Mary Shelley, Frankenstein, and the Spectacle of Masculinity” PMLA 108:2 (1993): 253–267. Loscocco, Paula. “Can’t Live Without ’Em: Walter Shandy and the Woman Within.” The Eighteenth Century: Theory and Interpretation 32 (1991):166–179. Lukács, Georg. The Theory of the Novel: A Historico-Philosophical Essay on the Forms of Great Epic Literature. Trans. Anna Bostock. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 1971. Lynch, Deidre. Economy of Character: Novels, Market Culture, and the Business of Inner Meaning. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1998. ———. Loving Literature: A Cultural History. Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press, 2015. Mathias, T.J. The Pursuits of Literature: A Satirical Poem in Four Dialogues. With Notes. 7th edn. London: Printed for T. Becket, 1798. Maurer, Shawn Lisa. “The Politics of Masculinity in the 1790s Radical Novel: Hugh Trevor, Caleb Williams, and the Romance of Sentimental Friendship.” Enlightening Romanticism, Romancing Enlightenment: British Novels from 1750 to 1832. Ed. Miriam L. Wallace. Burlington: Ashgate, 2009, 87–110. McGinnis, Reginald, ed. Originality and Intellectual Property in the French and English Enlightenment. New York: Routledge, 2009. McGonegal, Julie. “The Tyranny of Gift Giving: The Politics of Generosity of Sarah Scott’s Millenium Hall and Sir George Ellison.” Eighteenth-Century Fiction 19:3 (2007): 291–306. McKeon, Michael. “A Defense of Dialectical Method in Literary History.” Diacritics 19:1 (1989): 83–96. BIBLIOGRAPHY 279

———. The Origins of the English Novel: 1600–1740. Baltimore: John Hopkins University Press, 1987. ———. The Secret History of Domesticity: Public, Private, and the Division of Knowledge. Baltimore: John Hopkins University Press, 2005. McKillop, Alan, Samuel Richardson, Printer and Novelist. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1936. McMaster, Juliet. “Walter Shandy, Sterne and Gender: A Feminist Foray.” English Studies in Canada 15 (1989): 441–458. McMurran, Mary Helen. The Spread of Novels: Translation and Prose Fiction in the Eighteenth Century. Princeton and Oxford: Princeton University Press, 2010. Mee, Jon. Conversable Worlds: Literature, Contention, and Community, 1762–1830. Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press, 2008. Mellor, Anne K. “The Female in Frankenstein.” Romanticism and Feminism. Ed. Anne K. Mellor. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1988. ———. “Why Women Didn’t Like Romanticism.” The Romantics and Us: Essays on Literature and Culture. Ed. Gene Ruoff. New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press, 1990. Montaigne, Michel de. The Complete Essays of Montaigne. Trans. Donald M. Frame. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1965. Moore, Lisa L. Dangerous Intimacies: Toward a Sapphic History of the British Novel. Durham and London: Duke University Press, 1997. Morsberger, Katharine M. “Parallel Forces: Identity and Authority in Roland Barthes and Tristram Shandy.” Studies in Eighteenth-Century Culture 30 (2001): 245–267. Morton, Nanette. “‘A Most Sensible Oeconomy’: From Spectacle to Surveillance in Sarah Scott’s Millenium Hall.” Eighteenth-Century Fiction 11:3 (1999): 185–204. Mullan, John. Sentiment and Sociability: The Language of Feeling in the Eighteenth-Century. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1988. Nagle, Christopher C. Sexuality and the Culture of Sensibility in the British Romantic Era. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2007. Nandrea, Lori. Misﬁt Forms: Paths Not Taken by the British Novel. New York: Fordham University Press, 2014. Nazar, Hina. “Judging Clarissa’s Heart.” English Literary History 79:1 (2012): 85–109. Newman, Beth. “Narratives of Seduction and the Seductions of Narrative: The Frame Structure of Frankenstein.” English Literary History 53:1 (1986): 141–163. Newton, Adam Zachary. Narrative Ethics. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1995. Norris, John. A Collection of Miscellanies (1687). Fascimile. New York: Garland, 1978. 280 BIBLIOGRAPHY

Oakley. Warren L. A Culture of Mimicry: Laurence Sterne, His Readers, and the Art of Bodysnatching. London: Maney Publishing for the Modern Humanities Research Association, 2010. Pangle, Lorraine Smith. Aristotle and the Philosophy of Friendship. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002. Parnell, Tim. “Tristram Shandy and ‘the Gutter of Time.’” Shandean 11 (1999–2000): 48–54. Patterson, Lyman Ray. Copyright in Historical Perspective. Nashville, Tennessee: Vanderbilt University Press, 1968. Paulson, Ronald. Don Quixote in England: The Aesthetics of Laugher. Baltimore: John Hopkins Press, 1998. Perry, Ruth. “Words for Sex: The Verbal Continuum in Tristram Shandy.” Studies in the Novel 20 (1988): 27–42. Phelan, James. Living to Tell about It: a Rhetoric and Ethics of Character Narration. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2005. Plutarch. Moralia, Volume 1. Trans. Frank Cole Babbitt. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1927. Pocock, J. G. A. The Machiavellian Moment: Florentine Political Thought and the Atlantic Republican Tradition. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1975. ———. Virtue, Commerce, and History: Essays on Political Thought and History, Chieﬂy in the Eighteenth Century. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1985. Polwhele, Richard. The Unsex’d Females; A Poem (1798). New York: Garland Publishing, 1974. Poovey, Mary. The Proper Lady and the Woman Writer: Ideology as Style in the Works of May Wollstonecraft, Mary Shelley and Jane Austen. Chicago: Chicago University Press, 1984. Porter, Roy. Enlightenment: Britain and the Creation of the Modern World. London: The Penguin Press, 2000. Proust, Marcel. On Reading. Trans. Jean Autret and William Burford. New York: Macmillan Company, 1971. Redford, Bruce. The Converse of the Pen: Acts of Intimacy in the Eighteenth-Century Familiar Letter. Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press, 1986. Regan, Shaun. “Print Culture in Transition: Tristram Shandy, the Reviewers, and the Consumable Text.” Eighteenth-Century Fiction 14:3–4 (2002): 289–310. Richardson, Alan. “From Emile to Frankenstein: The Education of Monsters.” European Romantic Review 1:2 (1991): 147–162. Richardson, Samuel. Clarissa, or The History of a Young Lady (1747–1748). Ed. Angus Ross. New York: Penguin Books, 1985. ———. Clarissa. Or, the History of a Young Lady: Comprehending the Most Important Concerns of Private Life. In Eight Volumes. To Each of Which is BIBLIOGRAPHY 281

Added a Table of Contents. The Third Edition. In Which Many Passages and Some Letters are Restored from the Original Manuscripts. And to Which is Added, an Ample Collection of Such of the Moral and Instructive Sentiments. Interspersed Throughout the Work, as May be Presumed to be of General Use and Service. ...Vol. Volume 6. London, M.DCC.LI. 1750–1751 [1751]. Eighteenth Century Collections Online. Gale. Grinnell College. 29 July 2016. http://find.galegroup.com.grinnell.idm.oclc.org/ecco/infomark.do? &source=gale&prodId=ECCO&userGroupName=grin67026&tabID= T001&docId=CW3310374044&type=multipage&contentSet=ECCO Articles&version=1.0&docLevel=FASCIMILE. Gale Document Number: CW3310374044. ———. Clarissa. Or, the History of a Young Lady: Comprehending the Most Important Concerns of Private Life. In Seven Volumes. To Each of Which is Added, a Table of Contents. The Fourth Edition. In which Many Passages and Some Letters are Restored from the Original Manuscripts. And to Which is Added, an Ample Collection of Such of the Moral and Instructive Sentiments Interspersed Throughout the Work, as may be Presumed to be of General Use and Service. ...Vol. Volume 1. London, M.DCC.LI. [1751]. Eighteenth Century Collections Online. Gale. Grinnell College. 29 July 2016. http://find. galegroup.com.grinnell.idm.oclc.org/ecco/infomark.do?&source= gale&prodId=ECCO&userGroupName=grin67026&tabID=T001&docId= CW3309455632&type=multipage&contentSet=ECCOArticles&version=1. 0&docLevel=FASCIMILE. Gale Document Number: CW3309455632. ———. Clarissa. Or, the History of a Young Lady: Comprehending the Most Important Concerns of Private Life. In Seven Volumes. To Each of Which is Added, a Table of Contents. The Fourth Edition. In Which Many Passages and Some Letters are Restored from the Original Manuscripts. And to Which is Added, an Ample Collection of Such of the Moral and Instructive Sentiments Interspersed Throughout the Work, as May be Presumed to be of General Use and Service. ... Vol. Volume 7. London, M.DCC.LI. [1751]. Eighteenth Century Collections Online. Gale. Grinnell College. 29 July 2016 http://find. galegroup.com.grinnell.idm.oclc.org/ecco/infomark.do?&source= gale&prodId=ECCO&userGroupName=grin67026&tabID=T001&docId= CW3309957194&type=multipage&contentSet=ECCOArticles&version=1. 0&docLevel=FASCIMILE. Gale Document Number: CW3309957194. ———. The Correspondence of Samuel Richardson, Author of Pamela, Clarissa, and Sir Charles Grandison: Selected from the Original Manuscripts, Bequeathed by Him to His Family, to which are Prefixed a Biographical Account of that Author, and Observations on His Writings. Ed. Anna Laetitia Barbauld. London: Printed for Richard Phillips, 1804. ———. Familiar Letters on Important Occasions. Introduction by Brian W. Downs. New York: Dodd, Mead and Company, 1928. 282 BIBLIOGRAPHY

———. The History of Sir Charles Grandison. Ed. Jocelyn Harris. New York and London: Oxford University Press, 1972. ———. The History of Sir Charles Grandison. In a Series of Letters Published from the Originals, by the Editor of Pamela and Clarissa. In Six Volumes. To the Last of which is Added, An Historical and Characteristical Index. As also, A Brief History, authenticated by Original Letters, of the Treatment which the Editor has met with from certain Booksellers and Printers in Dublin. Including Observations on Mr. Faulkner’s Defence of Himself, published in his Irish News-Paper of Nov. 3. 1753. Vol. I.Vol.Volume1.[Thesecondedition]. London, [1753]-M.DCC.LIV. [1754]. Eighteenth Century Collections Online. Gale. Grinnell College. 29 July 2016 http://ﬁnd.galegroup.com. grinnell.idm.oclc.org/ecco/infomark.do?&source=gale&prodId= ECCO&userGroupName=grin67026&tabID=T001&docId= CW3314072143&type=multipage& contentSet=ECCO Articles&version=1. 0&docLevel=FASCIMILE. Gale Document Number: CW3314072143. ———. Pamela; or, Virtue Rewarded (1740). Ed. Thomas Keymer and Alice Wakely. New York: Oxford University Press, 2001. ———. Selected Letters of Samuel Richardson. Ed. John Carroll. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1964. Richetti, John. Popular Fiction before Richardson: Narrative Patterns 1700–1739. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1969. Rivers, William E. “The Importance of Tristram’s Dear, Dear Jenny.” Interpretations 13:1 (1981): 1–9. Rorty, Amélie Oksenberg, ed. Essays on Aristotle’s Ethics. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1980. Rose, Mark. Authors and Owners: The Invention of Copyright. Cambridge, Harvard University Press, 1993. Rosenthal, Margaret F. “Fashions of Friendship in an Early Modern Illustrated Album Amicorum: British Library, MS Egerton 1191.” Journal of Medieval and Early Modern Studies 39:3 (2009): 619–641. Ross, Ian Campbell. “Did Sterne Read Tom Jones?” Shandean 13 (2003): 109–111. Rousseau, Jean-Jacques. Julie, or the New Heloise (1761). Trans. Phillip Stewart and Jean Vaché. Lebanon, NH: Dartmouth College Press, 1997. Rousseau, Jean-Jacques. Emile, or On Education (1762). Trans. Allan Bloom. Basic Books, 1979. Rowe, Elizabeth. Friendship in Death in Twenty Letters from the Dead to the Living (1728). Ed. Josephine Grieder. New York: Garland Publishing, Inc., 1972. Ruskin, John. Sesame and Lilies. Ed. Deborah Epstein Nord. New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 2002. BIBLIOGRAPHY 283

Russell, Gillian, and Clara Tuite. Romantic Sociability: Social Networks and Literary Culture in Britain, 1770–1840. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2002. Schellenberg, Betty A. The Conversational Circle: Rereading the English Novel, 1740–1775. Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 1996. ———. The Professionalization of Women Writers in Eighteenth-Century Britain. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005. Schmidt, Eric and Jared Cohen. The New Digital Age: Reshaping the Future of People, Nations and Business. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2013. Scott, Sarah. A Description of Millenium Hall (1762). Ontario: Broadview Press, 1995. ———. The History of Sir George Ellison (1766). Ed. Betty Rizzo. Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 1996. ———. The Letters of Sarah Scott. Ed. Nicole Pohl. London: Pickering and Chatto, 2014. Sears, Albert C. “Male Novel Reading of the 1790s, Gothic Literature and Northanger Abbey.” Persuasions: Journal of the Jane Austen Society of North America 21 (1999): 106–112. Sekora, John. Luxury: The Concept in Western Thought, Eden to Smollett. Baltimore: John Hopkins University Press, 1977. Selden, John, Titles of Honor. London: W. Stansby for J. Helme, 1614. Shakespeare, William. “The History of King Lear.” The Riverside Shakespeare. Ed. G. Blakemore Evans. Boston: Houghton Mifﬂin, 1974. Shannon, Laurie. Sovereign Amity: Figures of Friendship in Shakespearean Contexts. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2002. Sharp, Ronald A. Friendship and Literature: Spirit and Form. Durham: Duke University Press, 1986. Shelley, Mary. Frankenstein; or the Modern Prometheus (1818). Ed. J. Paul Hunter. New York and London: W.W. Norton & Company, 1996. ———. The Journals of Mary Shelley, 1814–1844. Ed. Paula R. Feldman and Diana Scott-Kilvert. Oxford: Clarendon Press; New York: Oxford University Press, 1987. Shklovsky, Victor. “Sterne’s Tristram Shandy: Stylistic Commentary.” Russian Formalist Criticism: Four Essays. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1965. Silver, Allan. “Friendship in Commercial Society: Eighteenth-Century Social Theory and Modern Sociology.” American Journal of Sociology 95:6 (1990): 1474–1504. Siskin, Clifford, and William Warner, eds. This is Enlightenment. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 2010. Skinner, Gillian. Sensibility and Economics in the Novel, 1740–1800: the Price of a Tear. New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1999. 284 BIBLIOGRAPHY

Small, Miriam Rossiter, Charlotte Ramsay Lennox: an Eighteenth-Century Lady of Letters. Archon Books, 1969. Smith, Adam. The Theory of Moral Sentiments. New York: Penguin Classics, 2009. Smith, Johanna M., “Philanthropic Community in Millenium Hall and the York Ladies Committee.” The Eighteenth Century 36:3 (1995): 266–282. Smith, Vanessa. Intimate Strangers: Friendship, Exchange and Paciﬁc Encounters. New York: Cambridge University, 2010. The Spectator (1711–1712, 1714). Ed. Donald F. Bond. 5 vols. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1965. Spencer, Jane. The Rise of the Woman Novelist: From Aphra Behn to Jane Austen. New York: Blackwell, 1986. Staël, Anne Louise Germaine De. Considerations on the Principal Events of the French Revolution (1818). Ed. Aurelian Craiutu. Indianapolis: Liberty Fund, 2008. Staves, Susan. “Don Quixote in Eighteenth-Century England.” Comparative Literature 24:3 (1972): 193–215. Stephanson, Raymond. “‘Epicoene Friendship’: Understanding Male Friendship in the Early Eighteenth Century, with Some Speculations about Pope.” The Eighteenth Century 38:2 (1997): 151–170. Stern, Simon. “Copyright, Originality, and the Public Domain in Eighteenth- Century England.” Enlightening Romanticism, Romancing Enlightenment: British Novels from 1750 to 1832. Ed. Miriam Wallace. Burlington: Ashgate, 2009, 69–101. Sterne, Laurence. Letters of Laurence Sterne. Ed. Lewis Perry Curtis. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1935. ———. The Letters of Laurence Sterne: Part One, 1739–1764. Ed. Melvin New and Peter De Voogd, in The Florida Edition of the Works of Laurence Sterne, v.7. Gainesville: University of Florida Press, 2008. ———. The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman (1759–1767). Ed. Melvin New and Joan New, The Florida Edition of the Works of Laurence Sterne. 7 vols. Gainesville: University of Florida Press, 1978. ———. A Sentimental Journey Through France and Italy (1768). Ed. Paul Goring. New York: Penguin, 2001. Stewart, Garrett. Dear Reader: The Conscripted Audience in Nineteenth-Century British Fiction. Baltimore: John Hopkins University Press, 1996. Swift, Jonathan. Gulliver’s Travels (1735). Ed. Allan Ingram. Ontario: Broadview, 2012. Tadmor, Naomi. Family and Friends in Eighteenth-Century England: Household, Kinship, and Patronage. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2001. Taussig, Gurion. Coleridge and the Idea of Friendship, 1789–1804. Newark: University of Delaware Press, 2002. Taylor E., Derek. Reason and Religion in Clarissa: Samuel Richardson and “the Famous Mr. Norris of Bemerton.” Burlington: Ashgate, 2009. BIBLIOGRAPHY 285

Taylor, Jeremy. The Measures and Ofﬁces of Friendship (1662). Ed. Travis Du Priest. New York: Scholars’ Facsimiles & Reprints, 1984. Terry, Richard. “David Simple and the Fallacy of Friendship.” SEL: Studies in English Literature 1500–1900 44:3 (2004): 525–544. “The Unique Friendship Book of Rev. James Stanier Clark (1765–1834).” James Stanier Clark. Untitled Manuscript. Art Works Gallery. Web. 29 March 2013. http://www.artworksgallery.co.uk. Thomason, Laura E. “Hester Chapone as a Living Clarissa in Letters on Filial Obedience and A Matrimonial Creed.” Eighteenth Century Fiction 21:3 (2009): 323–343. Todd, Janet. The Sign of Angellica: Women, Writing and Fiction, 1660–1800. New York: Columbia University Press, 1989. ———. Women’s Friendship in Literature. New York: Columbia University Press, 1980. Trolander, Paul and Zeynep Tenger. Sociable Criticism in England: 1625–1725. Newark: University of Delaware Press, 2007. Turkle, Sherry, Alone Together: Why We Expect More from Technology and Less from Each Other. New York: Basic Books, 2011. Turley, Hans. “Solemn Imprecations and Curses: Captain Singleton’s Search for Identity.” Rum, Sodomy and the Lash: Piracy, Sexuality and Masculine Identity. New York: New York University Press, 1999. Turner, Cheryl. Living By the Pen: Women Writers in the Eighteenth Century. London and New York: Routledge, 1992. Ty, Eleanor. Unsex’d Revolutionaries: Five Women Novelists of the 1790s. Toronto and Buffalo: University of Toronto Press, 1993. Wallace, Miriam L. ed. Enlightening Romanticism, Romancing Enlightenment: British Novels from 1750 to 1832. Burlington: Ashgate, 2009. Walmsley, Peter. “The Melancholy Briton: Enlightenment Sources of the Gothic.” Enlightening Romanticism, Romancing Enlightenment: British Novels from 1750 to 1832. Ed. Miriam Wallace. Burlington: Ashgate, 2009, 39–54. Warner, William. Licensing Entertainment: The Elevation of Novel Reading in Britain, 1684–1750. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1998. ———. “Realist Literary History: Michael McKeon’s New Origins of the English Novel”. Diacritics 19.1 (1989): 62–81. ———. “Taking Dialectic with a Grain of Salt: A Reply to McKeon” Diacritics 20:1 (1990):103–107. Watt, Ian. The Rise of the Novel. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1957. Wehr, Donald R. “Sterne, Cervantes, Montaigne: Fideistic Skepticism and the Rhetoric of Desire.” Comparative Literature Studies 25 (1988): 127–151. West, Russell. “To the Unknown Reader: Constructing Absent Readership in the Eighteenth-Century Novel: Fielding, Sterne, and Richardson.” Arbeiten aus Anglistik und Amerikanistik 26: 2 (2001): 105–123. 286 BIBLIOGRAPHY

Williams, Carolyn. Pope, Homer and Manliness: Some Aspects of Eighteenth-Century Classical Learning. London and New York: Routledge, 1993. Wood, James. How Fiction Works. New York: Picador, 2008. Wordsworth, William. The Prelude, 1799, 1805, 1850. Ed. Jonathan Wordsworth, M.H. Abrams, and Stephen Gill. New York: Norton, 1979. Wordsworth, William and Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Lyrical Ballads: 1798 and 1800. Ed. Michael Gamer and Dahlia Porter. Peterborough, Ontario: Broadview Press, 2008. Yeo, Richard. “John Locke on Conversation with Friends and Strangers.” Parergon 26:2 (2009): 11–39. Young, Edward. Conjectures on Original Composition (1759). Leeds: The Scolar Press Limited, 1966. ———. Night Thoughts. Ed. Stephen Cornford. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1989.

MANUSCRIPT SOURCES National Art Library Forster Collection (Victoria and Albert Museum). INDEX

A Alienation, 14–15, 89, 160, 154–55, Addison, Joseph, 18, 19, 24, 26, 33, 178, 196–198, 201–202, 206, 73, 142, 145–146, 148, 213, 216, 221n43 161–163, 164, 168, 169, 173, Alter, Robert, 156, 157, 257n56 227n53–228n53, 253n18, Anonymity, 11, 56, 62, 86–87, 111, 253n20, 255n48 113, 114, 117, 120, 123, 135, See also Periodicals, Spectator, The 173, 245–246n14, 246n16 Adorno, Theodor, 28 See also Authorship, professional, Advertisements, literary, 10, 109, and gender 113–121, 154, 245n11, 247n24, Apostrophe, 70, 154, 188–189, 249n30 263n32 Affection Aristotle, 9, 15, 31, 39, 66, 178, 205, asymmetrical, 66, 78, 196–197, 205 210, 235n17 and coercion, 47 Eudemian Ethics, 28 and economics, 91–92, 112, 114, Magna Moralia, 29 118, 121, 128, 143 Nichomachean Ethics, 6, 27–30, as epistemic ﬂaw, 29–30, 43, 74, 223n10, 223n13, 223n16 130 Astell, Mary, 18, 48, 50, 99, 230n64, for family, 16, 91–92, 100, 179, 230n64, 230n65, 230n68, 185, 186, 202, 260n6, 262n24 231n72, 231n74, 238n37 as measure of friendship, 10, 203 Serious Proposal to the Ladies, A proof of, 94–95, 128 (1697), 43–45, 87 and reader absorption, 3–4, 74–78, Austen, Jane, 14, 170, 174, 182, 212, 85 214, 261n17 See also Characters, Literary, Northanger Abbey (1817), 178–179 attachment to; Intimacy; Authorship, professional, 10, 114, Sympathy 163, 245n14

© The Author(s) 2017 287 B. Mangano, Fictions of Friendship in the Eighteenth-Century Novel, Palgrave Studies in the Enlightenment, Romanticism and the Cultures of Print, DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-48695-6 288 INDEX

Authorship, professional (cont.) Budd, Adam, 72–73, 238n43 collaboration vs. control in, 53–55, Burwick, Roswitha, 201, 265n43, 84–85, 102, 105–106 265n44 commercial pressures of, 10, 13–14, 17, 25, 35, 109–112, 114–121, 142–145, 249n30 C and female identity, 87, 113–114, 124, 134–137, 167–169, Carnell, Rachel K., 79, 235n17 177–178, 181–183, 201, Chapone, Sarah, 78 242n20, 245–246n14, 248n25 Characters, literary – gender and economics of, 109–121, appropriation of, 54, 84, 155 157, 144, 154, 220n37 166 – as shaped by view of readers, 10–11, attachment of readers to, 3 4, – – – 24–26, 215 53 55, 71 79, 84 86, 105–106, 165–167 interiority of, 15, 58–59, B 61–62, 63–64, 89–91, 93–102, Backscheider, Paula R., 41, 43 126–127, 159–162, 169, 212 Bacon, Sir Francis, 18, 27–32, 35–37, particularity of, 148–150, 153, 115, 142, 152, 190, 224n17 173–174 Bakhtin, M.M., 24 transparency of, 26, 91, 135, 159, Bannet, Eve Tavor, 114 161–165, 173–174, 184, Barthes, Roland, 8, 157, 257n58 194–195, 203, 223n9, 264n36 Beattie, James, 23 Charity Beauty, 175, 185, 188–89, 205, as distinct from friendship, 17–18, 233n97, 266n53 91–92, 100, 128, 129, 132 Bender, John, 221n43, 233n100 as an effect of friendship, 112, 122, Benedict, Barbara M., 170–172 158, 179 Benevolence, see Charity as a source of friendship, 94, 101, Bluestockings, the, 112, 182 129, 131, 153 Booth, Wayne, 5–7, 10, 13, 110, 215, Chibka, Robert, 156, 255n48 218n13, 267n6–268n6 Christianity Boswell, James, 9, 111, 244n3, 255n49 and instructive dialogue, 35–36, 113 Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides vs. poetic justice, 73, 85 with Samuel Johnson (1785), 25 Cicero, Marcus Tullius, 2, 8, 27, 66, Bourdieu, Pierre, 118, 128 121 Bradshaigh, Dorothy, Lady, 2–4, 7, Coleridge, Samuel Taylor, 9, 179, 10, 24, 74–76, 78, 79, 226n33, 180, 185, 260n6 239n48 pantisocracy, 179, 180, 260n5, Bray, Alan, 159 260n9 Bree, Linda, 92, 98, 242n23 Collier, Jane, see Fielding, Sarah and Britton, Jeanne M., 195, 265n45 Jane Collier INDEX 289

Commerce, see Authorship, Diderot, Denis, 3–4, 76–78, 116, 166, professional; Economics; 211, 217n7, 239n57 Friendship, economics of; Disinterest, see Judgment, by friends Intimacy between friends, vs. Disorder, 3, 7, 10, 31, 160–162, 169, commerce 173, 178, 212 Cook, Elizabeth Heckendorn, 79, See also Character, literary, openness 235n17 of; Narrative, digressiveness Copyright Dodsley, James, 142–143 law, 145–146, 148 Domesticity sale of, 10, 14, 110, 119, as a constraint on female 142–144 friendship, 55–60, 124–125, See also Statute of Anne 179–181, 185–187 Coteries, literary, see Judgment, by and novel form, 15–16, friends, within literary circles 175, 214 Cruise, James, 119 postive inﬂuence of, 183, 191 Curiosity, 2, 58, 96–98, 118, 150, reformed by friendship, 98, 136, 170–171, 199 230n64 as a source of self-interest, 91, 100 and sympathy, 222n44 D See also Friendship, epistemology Daffron, Eric, 195, 264n38 of; Friendship, household David and Jonathan, as pattern of Donoghue, Frank, 144, 147 friendship, 8–9, 66–67, 69, Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir 237n29 Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Defoe, Daniel, 34, 227n45, 228n53, Watson, 214 243n28 Captain Singleton (1720), 12, 37–40, 92–93, 110, 114, E 226n43–227n43, 228n54, Economics 228n55, 228n56–229n56 of aristocracy, 92, 122, 124, Family Instructor, The (1715), 35 130–131, 220n32, 242n25 Robinson Crusoe (1719), 12, 35–38, of proto-capitalism, 13, 35–39, 49, 88, 113, 114, 115, 121–122, 130–132, 154, 226n39, 263n29 220n32 Delany, Mary, 75 See also Authorship, professional; Derrida, Jacques, 9, 27–28, 32, 41, Friendship, economics of 66, 67, 150, 167, 188, 267n6 Education, see Friendship, pedagogy of Dickens, Charles, 212, 214 Edwards, Thomas, 79, Dictionary of the English Language, A 246n24–247n24 (1755), 243n39 Egalitarianism, 124, 135, 169, Didacticism, see Friendship, pedagogy 179–181, 182, 205, 261n17 of Empiricism, 41, 203, 219n32 290 INDEX

Enemies, 5–6, 26, 28, 32, David Simple, Volume the Last 159, 165–167, 188–201, (1753), 83–85, 87, 92, 94, 206, 264n32 168; analysis of, 99–108 Enﬁeld, William, 147, 148 Governess, The (1749), 44, 231n71 Enlightenment, 11, 14, 28, 30, 91, Remarks on Clarissa (1749), 76–77, 123, 174, 213, 216, 223n13 85–87, 136 See also Print culture, expansion of Fielding, Sarah and Jane Entertainment Collier, 248n25 dangers of, 35, 63–64, 141 Cry, The (1754), 167–169, 241n13 elevated forms of, 41–43, Flattery 44, 49, 50, 74, 110, in literary advertisements, 115–118 119, 146, 183, 196, as obstacle to self- 201, 262n20 knowledge, 30–33, 60 Epitaphic Writing, 149–150, 166 of the public, 25–27, 50 Esteem, 94, 128, 129, 134–135 See also Friendship, false Foucault, Michel, 174, 264n38 Fourmantel, Catherine, 142, 143, F 148, 249n29 Family Free indirect style, 89–90, as friendship, 8, 14, 94, 98, 130, 95, 127, 194, 214, 185–186 241n19–242n19 vs. friendship, 14, 16, 56–60, 71, See also Narration, third person 88–92 Friedman, Emily C., 87, 167, 241n13, and instruction, 35 258n75 likeness as principle of order in Friendship Locke, 160 and the afterlife, 41–43, 67–71 siblings, 88–91, 202, 236n22 authority of, 8–9, 15, 28–33, 39, See also Domesticity; Friendship, 41–42, 44–50, 61–62, 68, 73, fraternal 95–97, 104–105, 199 Fandom, vs. friendship, 214–215 between authors and readers, 2–8, Fénelon, Françcois, 180–181, 186, 10–11, 13, 18, 25–26, 37, 261n12 53–55, 58, 76–80, 84–86, Fielding, Henry, 23, 34, 110, 145, 105–106, 134, 144, 148, 149, 154, 183 149–155, 163, 168–173, 181 Joseph Andrews (1742), 55–56, 60, classical discourse of, 8–9, 27–33, 244n40 35, 41–42, 44, 60–74, 150, Shamela (1741), 116 195, 196–198, 214 Tom Jones (1749), 5, 244n40 and conversation, 2–3, 24–25, 33, Fielding, Sarah, 10, 53, 109–112 41, 44, 46, 86–87, 121–124, Adventures of David Simple, The 142, 152, 159–164, 169–170, (1744), 14, 110, 128; analysis 173, 192–195, 203, 209–212, of, 83–108 256n51 INDEX 291

Cross–gender, 34, 86, 111, and social reform, 9, 14–15, 37, 44, 132–137, 172–174, 204, 206, 84, 87, 98, 119, 120, 122, 132, 213 135–137, 179, 181, 237n34 early modern essays on, 27–33 See also Narration, addressing economics of, 14, 33, 35–39, readers as friends; Enemies 91–94, 99–100, 114, 118, 121–124, 126–132, 135, 154, 215, 228–229n56 G eighteenth-century usage of Gallagher, Catherine, 14, 33, 96, 107, – – term, 8 9, 14 15, 143 145, 154, 220n37, 222n44, – – elegiac, 3 4, 7, 28, 41, 60, 66 67, 244n40, 256n50 – 71, 85, 149 150, 166, 185, Garrick, David, 117, 141–143, 155, 195, 199 249n29 – as epistemology, 29 33, 39, 42, 62, Gautier, Gary, 92, 242n27 – 89 91, 93, 105, 162, 199, Gift-giving, see Charity 224n17 Gilbert, Sandra, 184 equality in, 44, 47, 59, Gillis, Christina Marsden, 56, 234n14 – 135, 180 181, 185, Godwin, William, 179–181, 183, 198, 205 201, 260n6, 260n10, 261n11, – false, 4, 11, 29 30, 39, 77, 85, 261n12 – – 90 91, 93 94, 95, 99, 101, Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von 121, 168, 195, 206 Sorrows of Young Werther – – fraternal, 9, 28, 32 33, 35, 61 62, (1774), 177, 196, 198–199, – 67, 110, 142, 177, 179 182, 202, 204, 265n43 – – 184 188, 191, 194 195, Goldsmith, Oliver, 147 – 199 200, 204, 213, 224n16, Gordon, Scott Paul, 12, 84, 99, 244n5 240n4, 258n76 household, 112, 125, 130, Gray, Thomas, 149–150, 152, 154, 134, 137 166, 254n36 imitation of; of men by Greene, Jody, 11, 12, 37, 38, – women, 60 71, 198; of women 226–227n43, 227n45 – by men, 64 65, 77, 86, Grifﬁths, Ralph, 147–148 – 112 113, 137 Gubar, Susan, 184 – pedagogy of, 27 51, 60, 79, 86, Guillory, John, 40, 203 136–137, 188 in professional relationships, 34, 109–121, 142–143, 190 between readers and H characters, 58–59, 73–79, Habermas, Jürgen, 15, 16, 59, 162, 83–85, 105–106, 152–157, 163 196–198, 201–202, 206–207, Haggerty, George E., 16, 251n44, 210–212, 214 254n36 292 INDEX

Hamlet and Yorick, as friendship spiritual, 70 model, 156, 164, 166–167 See also Friendship, as epistemology Highmore, Susanna, 75 Hobbes, Thomas, 123, 251n42 Horkheimer, Max, 28 J Hume, David, 16, 101 Jenkins, Eugenia, 39, 228n54 Hyde, Edward, First Earl of Clarendon Johns, Alessa, 121, 125 The History of the Rebellion Johnson, Barbara, 184 (1702–1704), 25 Johnson, Samuel, 51, 107, 146, 165, 222n7, 229n60, I 255n49 Individuality, see Character, literary, History of Rasselas, Prince of particularity of Abissinia (1759), 174–175 Instruction, see Friendship, pedagogy of Idler, The, 24–25 Intimacy, between friends See also Dictionary of the English as author-reader intimacy, 107, 114, Language 148–149, 167–169, 173, 177, Jones, Emrys D., 13–14, 15, 33, 211–212 225n28, 227n45 as basis of creativity, 148, 151–152, Jonson, Ben, 115, 116, 117 162–163 judgment, by friends, 26, 30, 59–62, vs. commerce, 39, 142, 151–155, 64–65, 158 196 within literary circles, 34, 76, as communication paradigm, 40–42, 77–79, 114–117 59–60, 61–62, 133–134, See also Advertisements, literary 159–163, 203 establishing, 95–96, 152–153, – 158 159 K ethics of, 87, 103, 158, 199–200 Keymer, Thomas, 145, 253n17 vs. familial and sexual intimacy, Kim, James, 87, 96, 242n26, 243n31 15–16, 98, 125, 134–135, King, Stephen 202–203 Misery (1987), 214 and free indirect style, 89–90, 95, Kinship, see Family 127, 214 Kvande, Marta, 11, 71, 238n39 as pretext for novelistic detail, 2, 4, 58–59, 61–63, 73–74, 89–90, 127 privilege of men, 111, 113, 142, L 149, 162, 169, 173, 181, 195, Libertinism, 68, 122, 141, 169 264n36 Liberty, of male friendship, 31, 142, as public performance, 63, 159, 162–163, 169 168–169, 181 Libri amicorum, 34 INDEX 293

Locke, John, 16, 19, 40, 41, 43, 46, epistolary, 1, 41–43, 46, 53–74, 120, 159, 160–163, 173, 203, 86–87, 112, 119–120, 134, 230n65, 238n38, 257n62 190–194, 202–204 London, Bette, 184, 202 ﬁrst person, 37–38, 93, 152–153, Lukács, Georg, 4, 7, 24, 218n8 168, 193–194 Lynch, Deidre Shauna, 71, 215, 216, oral, as basis of friendship, 94, 238n38, 268n7 96, 104, 192, 194, 196, 202–203 third-person, impersonal M omniscient, 87–91, 93–98, – – Marriage, 12, 38, 48, 92, 98, 104, 125, 99 105, 126 127, 194 130–131, 180–181, 185–187 Narrative Mathias, T.J., 182 abridgement, 3, 4, 145 Maurer, Shawn Lisa, 33, 63, 225n29 closure, 37, 55, 60, 71, 84, 105 McKeon, Michael, 12, 16, 55, 92, (see also Tragedy, in friendship plots) – 219n32–220n32, 221n43, digressiveness, 4 5, 54, 148, 153, – 234n11, 243n29, 250n40, 162 163 – 257n62 order, 3, 7, 31, 126, 151 152, 162, Mee, Jon, 162, 258n68 212 Mellor, Anne K., 182, 186, 261n17, responsibility for, 72, 103, 120, 262n22 193, 201 Millar, Andrew, 110–111, 244n3, transmission of, 58, 71, 90, 104, – 249n30 119 120, 127, 184, 192, 196, – Montagu, Barbara, Lady, 112 200 201 Montagu, Elizabeth, 141, 142, 146, Networks, literary, see Authorship, 148, 152, 245n14 professional Montaigne, Michel de, 18, 27–29, Newbery, John, 110, 111, 113, 120, 31–32, 35, 36, 44, 121, 225n25 245n11 Moore, Edward, 75 Newman, Beth, 184 Moore, Lisa L., 134–135 Norris, John ‘ Mourning, see Friendship, elegiac Damon and Pythias. or, Friendship ’ Mullan, John, 146 in Perfection , 67, 68, 69 Novelty, 144–149, 155, 167, 175, 248n25, 253n20 N Nagle, Christopher C., 202–204 Nandrea, Lori, 11 O Narration Oddity, 146–149, 155, 159–160, 163, addressing readers as friends, 5–7, 174 56, 106, 143–144, 152–155, Originality, 145–148, 149, 167, 170, 158–163, 167 174, 178, 253n17 294 INDEX

Originality (cont.) Prévost, Antoine-François, abbé, 3, See also Character, literary, 72, 217n7 particularity of; Copyright, law; Print culture Liberty, of male friendship allegories of, 61, 62, 70–72, 134, 159, 166, 196, 198 authority of, 11, 61, 62, 71–72 P expansion of, 7, 10, 24, 34 Patrimony, 89–92, 94, 121–122, fears of, 13, 25, 49, 72 242n26 idealization of, 4, 9, 40, 50, 53, vs. maternal inheritance, 128–130 70–72, 181, 197, 198, 205, 210 Patronage, 8, 10, 11, 25, 26, 34, Privacy 110–111, 114, 135, 142–143, as block to amiable curiosity, 96–97, 222n7, 247n24, 250n35, 256n50 102, 150, 161 See also Authorship, professional of domestic sphere, 59, 125, 186 Paulson, Ronald, 145 in Habermas’s account, 15, 59 Pedagogy, see Friendship, pedagogy of of ideal friendship, 2, 14, 60, 127, Pepys, William Weller, 147–148 173 Periodicals of libertines, 64, 169 British Critic, The, 182–183 paradoxical conﬂation with the Idler, The, 25 public, 9, 25–26, 56, 87, 115, Spectator, The, 24, 145, 161, 119, 152, 164, 169, 174 228n53 as privilege of male friendship, 111, Philanthropy, see Charity 149–152, 161–163, 173 Pleasure, 7, 27, 29–30, 63, 75, 95, 99, vs. the public sphere, 114, 121, 123, 119, 135, 142, 146, 179 135 morally “elevated” by ﬁction, 35, as refuge for women, 44–45, 42, 43, 44, 46, 48–49, 50, 64, 123–124, 265n44 183, 213, 233n97 See also Anonymity; Domesticity; See also Entertainment Liberty, of male friendship Plutarch, 29, 115, 197 Prolixity, 1, 4, 46, 54, 119, 147, 153, Pocock, J.G.A, 13 250n34, 255n49–256n49 Poetical justice, critique of, 73–75, Proust, Marcel, 19–20, 210–212, 214 84–85 Providence, in plots, 124, 129–131 Politeness, vs. Friendship, 33, 96–97, compare with poetical justice, 146–147, 152, 156, 163 critique of See also Character, literary, openness Public, see Print, culture; Readerships Polwhele, Richard, 182 Poovey, Mary, 186 Porter, Roy, 222n7 Q Posterity, 6, 15, 25–26, 28, 62, 169, Quixotism, 12–13, 49, 83–84, 99, 175, 192, 193–195, 200–201 106–108, 156–159, 164, 169, See also Readerships 190, 219n32 INDEX 295

R correspondence, 1–2, 10, 24, Rationality, as an objective 41–42, 59, 72–80, 169, 211, of friendship, 7, 10, 43, 87, 239n48 122–123, 134, 137, 142, 169 Pamela, or Virtue Rewarded compared to irrationality in male (1740), 12, 53–56, 59, 74, 88, intimacy, 159–162 93, 115, 116, 120, 125, Readerships 246n24–247n24 divided by sex, 134–135, 142, Sir Charles Grandison (1753– 169–170, 178–179 54), 54, 239n48, 246n24, resistant, 7, 10, 13, 16, 50, 54, 72, 251n43 73–76, 84–85, 146–148, 184, Richetti, John, 41–43, 229n60 202 Rivers, William E., 172–173 as virtual friendships, 4, 5–7, Romance, and friendship plots, 34, 13, 14, 24–28, 32, 59, 71, 80, 41–43, 49–50, 55, 131, 136, 88, 142, 144, 148, 166, 174, 172, 219n32–220n32, 244n40 206 Rousseau, Jean-Jacques vs. friendship, 209–212 Emile: or, On Education (1762), See also Friendship, between authors 46–50, 190, 232n80, 232n86, and readers; Friendship, 232n87, 232n88, 233n99, between readers and 263n28 Characters; Reviews, literary Rowe, Elizabeth Singer Religion, see Christianity; Friendship Friendship in Death (1728), 41–44, and the afterlife 50, 229n60 Remote communication, virtue of, 2, Royal Exchange, The, 92, 99, 7, 34, 40–41, 43, 59, 69, 72, 134, 227n53–228n53 196–197, 203 Ruskin, John, 209–212, 214, 216 See also, Print culture, fears of Reviews, literary, 143–149, 155, 178, 182, 226n34, 249n30 S ’ set in opposite to an author s Saavedra, Miguel de Cervantes, 106, “ ” friends , 165, 167 155, 166 Richardson, Samuel, 11, 17, 34, 109, Don Quixote, 12, 23, 83–84, 110, 111, 112, 142, 145, 147, 256n52 179, 203, 250n33 Don Quixote and Sancho Panza as Clarissa, or The History of a Young friendship model, 156, 256n54 Lady (1748), 14, 17, 136, 153, See also Quixotism – 163, 167, 169 170, 221n40, Satire – 236n22, 236n27 237n27, of friendship, 12, 107, 116, 118, – 238n44, 246n24 247n24; 171 – analysis of, 53 80; reception as friendship, 60 – – – of, 3 4, 72 80, 84 87, 148, Schellenberg, Betty A., 86, 88, 113, 166 237n27, 245n14, 246n16 296 INDEX

Scott, Sarah, 10, 11, 17, 53, 80, See also Satire of friendship; Satire as 141–142, 144, 148, 178, 213, friendship 246n14 Smith, Adam, 16, 62, 101, 222n44 Description of Millenium Hall, A Theory of Moral Sentiments, The (1762), 44, 87, 141–142, 154, (1759), 175, 229n56 186, 204; analysis of, 109–137; The Wealth of Nations (1776), 122, publication of, 110–111 229n56 History of Gustavus Erikson, Smith, Johanna M., 131, 251n48 King of Sweden, Sociability, 16, 24, 33, 122, 145–149, The (1761), 111, 125 158, 160, 164–165, 175, 215, History of Mecklenburgh, The 256n51 (1762), 125 See also Politeness History of Sir George Ellison, The Southey, Robert, 179–180, 260n5, (1766), 136, 141 260n6 Sensibility, 15, 27, 91, 101, 157, 159, See also Coleridge, Pantisocracy 187, 213, 242n27–243n27 Staël, Anne Louis Germaine de, vs. friendship, 202–205 Madame, 26, 174, 181–182, Seward, Anna, 148 223n9 Shannon, Laurie, 9 Stanhope, Phillip Dormer Sharp, Ronald A., 5, 218n9 Fourth Earl of Chesterﬁeld, 45–46, Shelley, Mary Wollstonecraft, 10, 222n7, 231n75–232n75 261n17 Statute of Anne, 145 Frankenstein: or, The Modern Sterne, Laurence, 10, 23, 178, 179, Prometheus (1818), 262n24, 193, 196, 211, 249n29, 264n36 263n28, 265n43; analysis Correspondence, 170 of, 177–207; reception Life and Opinions of Tristram of, 182–184 Shandy, Gentleman (1759– Shelley, Percy Bysshe, 181, 183, 67), 6, 108, 117, 177, 256n51; 262n20 analysis of, 141–175; Silver, Allan, 14, 116, 220n39 publication of, 142–143; Simulated relationships, 215–216 reception of, 141–143, Siskin, Clifford, 11, 224n17 146–148, 155 Skepticism Sentimental Journey Through France of false or imperfect and Italy, A (1768), 144 friendship, 117–119, 121, 200 Stewart, Garrett, 8, 183, 193, 194, of ideal friendship, 84, 100, 107 201, 262n19, 262n20 in McKeon’s Strange, the, 145–147, 156, 197 dialectics, 219n32–220n32 See also Oddity; Character, literary, of objective impaired by particularity of affection, 30, 117 Strangers as tension in friendship, 11, 14, 91, vs. friends, 159 93–94, 95, 101, 156 as judging audience, 61, 63, 124, 194 INDEX 297

obligation to, 100–101 Tenger, Zeynep, 226n34, 246n18 as possible friends, 6–7, 95–97, 143, Terry, Richard, 84, 98, 99 153, 159, 174, 196 Todd, Janet, 9–10, 16, 57, 67, 79, and vanity, 194 232n86, 234n13 Suard, Jean Baptiste, 147 Trade, 39, 122, 191 Surveillance, 16, 45–46, 62, 125, 174 in friendship’s capital, 118, 154 See also Friendship, pedagogy of logic of trinkets vs. friendship, Swift, Jonathan 39, 110, 228n54, Gulliver’s Travels (1726), 33, 113, 228n56–229n56 245n12 Tragedy, in friendship plots, Sympathy 53–55, 61, 66–72, 72–76, for authors, 5–6, 78, 87, 110, 85, 99, 104–105, 153, 204, 143–144 238n45 beyond, 196–197, 201–202 See also Friendship, elegiac disinterested, 59–62 Trolander, Paul, 226n34, 246n18 for ﬁctional character, 73, 75–76, Truth, see Friendship, epistemology of 85, 96–97, 195, 204 Turkle, Sherry, 215–216, 268n8 vs. friendship, 91–92 Turner, Cheryl, 111, 244n5 illusion of non-verbal, 191, 203, 205–206 mediated by narrative, 93, 113, 127, U 196, 204 Utopianism – reciprocity of, 94 96, 128, and communication, 123–124 – – 191 192, 196 199, 202 and economics, 38, 114, 118, – securing the basis for, 95 96, 100, 121–122 106 exclusively female, 44, 113–114, – stimulated by shared enmity, 3 4, 5, 118, 121–124 – – 167 168, 188 189 familial, 84, 179–181, 185 See also Affection; Charity; Intimacy; as novelistic aspiration, 14, 15, Sensibility 28, 80 vicarious, 88, 198 T Tadmor, Naomi, 8, 10, 14, 56–57, 79, 111, 219n19, 219n23, 221n40, V 244n5 Virtue Taste, 3, 15, 16, 18, 35, 42, 44, 77, classical, 11, 66, 185 144, 146, 171–172, 248n25 feminine, 56, 60, 113, 123, 125, Taussig, Gurion, 179, 260n4, 260n6, 174 260n9 vs. friendship, 98 Telecommunication, see Remote of friendship, 24, 27, 30, 33, 42–43, communication 128, 178, 190 298 INDEX

Virtue (cont.) Warner, William, 11, 34–35, 55, gendered division of, 16–17, 121, 125 234n7, 240n7 masculine, 67, 177, 180 West, Russell, 56 in McKeon’s Wollstonecraft, Mary, 44, 181–182, dialectics, 219n32–220n32 201, 261n17 as narrative credit, 95, 131, 192 Wordsworth, William, 9, 189, 190, in reading and writing, 58–59, 60, 206, 263n30 71, 97–98, 113, 210, 211 of self-interest, 39–40 vs. singularity, 174 and wealth, 93, 124–125, 127–130 Y Yeo, Richard, 159 Young, Edward, 145, W 149–152, 154, 254n41, Walmsley, Peter, 149 255n48 Warburton, William, 147 Night Thoughts (1742–45), 149