appearance; intellectual endowments; rank

and fortune.

The first of these, the writers of fiction have lavished on their favourites with an unsparing hand. The possession of these in the most superlative degree, seems to be now considered as an indispensible requisite. This is, indeed, a very obvious and natural way of gaining them the good-will ofthe reader. Yet, considered in the view of its tendency, it would be difficult to discover any good effects that are likely to result from it. One thing is evident, that the greatest admiration which any one can feel for this quality, will have no tendency to increase it in himself, or to form him to any resemblance of the person whom he admires. More important consequences may indeed arise from the desire of meeting with it in another: but it does not follow that they are more advantageous. The practice of forming connections for life, with peculiar regard to this circumstance, is, perhaps, not one which a wise man would wish very much to encourage. Yet, to represent a great deficiency

in this particular would be whimsical, and could not fail to inspire a degree of disgust. Perhaps, therefore, it may be most advisable to pass over the subject in silence, and to turn the attention of the reader towards more valuable and lasting qualities. Nor will this deprive the narrative of any great ornament. The ideas of beauty, which description attempts to convey, are always extremely faint and inadequate.

If any exception be made to this rule, it must be with regard to that higher species of beauty, which consists in expression. As this generally accompanies the possession of valuable mental qualities, it may be considered as, in some degree, susceptible of improvement.

In regard to intellectual endowments, the case seems to be rather different. These are not of a nature to be passed over, nor can they be made wanting without lowering the character in the greatest degree. A weak and foolish good man could extort no approbation that was not mingled with contempt. He could never, at least, excite any of those

sentiments which lead to imitation, Besides, as this is, in a great degree, an acquired excellence, it is proper that the reader should be prompted to use every means of improving it in himself. With this view, these attainments should appear, in a great measure, to arise rather from well directed cultivation, than from the mere strength of natural parts. The same observations will apply, more or less, to every other kind of mental accomplishment.

There remain only the goods of fortune to be considered. And though these are not to be treated with any undue contempt, yet, certainly, both his dignity and his happiness, ought to be represented as alike independent of them. However well qualified to discharge, with ability, the duties of the highest and most important situations, he should also be able to enjoy himself, and to act with respectability and usefulness, in a more moderate and humble sphere. He ought also to appear supporting with fortitude, and rising superior to, the greatest adversity. It will be proper, therefore, that,

in the course of the work, he should expe rience various vicissitudes of fortune, which may afford an opportunity of practising those virtues that arise naturally out of every ituation.

Who is to appear as the relator of the story? the leading character, or the author himself? For the purpose which we have at present in view, I am rather disposed to prefer the former.

A more intimate connection is thus formed between him and the reader; the latter imbibes not only a disposition to imitate the actions described, but the very spirit from which they proceed. There seems a danger that the other mode may produce an emulation tinctured with vanity; rather a wish to have the same things told of us, than a disposition to do them. Perhaps, also, there is thus less danger of a perfect character becoming uninteresting. When a person is introduced to tell his own story, we naturally find it agreeable when his actions are deserving of approbation, and painful when it is otherwise.

This mode of narration may be performed,

either by letters, or by an uniform unbroken narrative. Where it is to be short, the latter seems advisable, as more distinct and concise, and keeping the attention fixed upon one object. In a work of great extent, however, the uniformity of such a plan would prove somewhat tiresome; and letters, admitting of greater variety, are rather to be preferred.

Is the object in question to be best attained by poetical, or by prose, fictions? In my opinion, by the latter. Poetry is certainly an elegant and charming amusement. By inspiring a taste for the beauties of na-ture, by giving dignity to the character, and raising its votary above mean and degrading pleasures, it may even become subservient to important purposes of improvement. But, for influencing the active principles, for guiding our conduct in the ordinary affairs of life, it does not seem so very well fitted. It transports the reader into a higher world, into scenes which cannot, indeed, be viewed without admiration, but which bear little resemblance to those in which he is destined