admiration where universal praise is given, to the nature-drawing pen of Mrs. D'Arblay; her Cecilia is a constellation of beauties, and if there be one fault in that charming performance, it arises from an exuberance of genius, which delineates every actor in it as a character, and paints them in the strongest though most varied colours; by this means she sometimes destroys the appearance of reality, for in real life most people have no character at all;' this however, is a fault with which her novel of Camilla cannot be charged, nor do I know one more simply interesting. The picture of an amiable family, must ever be so to the affectionate and unsophisticate mind, and though I am well aware that with many, I should find my opinion singular, I must yet acknowledge, that Camilla is the work of this charming. writer, which I the most admire." Fortunately Lady Harriett had just read this favorite novel, and ventured to say so, adding that she thought it very pretty. Henry

I 3

ments of her mind from foreign sources, instead of relying on its native wealth, though from the purity and splendour of the specimens which she affords us of it, all other aids appear superfluous.” "Her

delineation of female characters," said Lady Rosamond, "is exquisite; they are all that a woman would wish to see in her sex represented, and Miss Owenson shews at once what a female ought to be, and what she is capable of being." "I grant her all her merits," replied the Earl, "and am very ready to rank her among the first writers of the present day. There are undoubtedly, many others very ingenious, but I do not admire the melocompositions, of some gentlemen writers, who blunt the edge of their wit, by loading the pages of a novel, with latin and greek notes, to shew their learning, or make them the vehicles for serious discussions on literature, politics, and even religion. I would have a novel a pleasing natural description of events, which

might happen in real life, conveying an useful moral in its conclusion, and drawing characters as they in general exist; such as may be imitated or shunned, accordingly as they are virtuous or vicious, yet not coloured until they are all perfection, or all vice, faults very common with common-place writers, who ge-nerally draw in extremes, and make some one unfortunate character the scape-goat of the piece, dismissing him or her at its close, loaded with all the enormities of vice, and responsible for all the misfortunes of the innocent."

And here, lest our readers should think us in danger of falling into the very error condemned by Lord Drelincourt, of entering into dissertations foreign to the subject, we shall take the liberty of concluding the conversation, much to the joy of Lady Harriett, who was in the utmost dread of again being called on to give her opinion, though she was astonished that the Earl should mention so I 5

few

few authors, and wondered how he could

omit,

"The Mystic Cottager." "The De

lusions of Sentiment."

66

Mysterious "Child

Horrors." "The Fair Orphan."

of Wonder." &c. &c. &c. All which she

t

had read, and thought very pretty.

СНАР.

CHAP. XII,

Faire was the day, but fairer was the mayde,
Who that day's morne into the green woodes strayde;
Sweet was the ayre, but sweeter was her breathing,
Such rare perfumes the roses are bequeathing.

W. BROWNE.

WHATEVER might be Henry's failings, that of indolence certainly did not enter into their catalogue. He was fully sensible of the value of time; and though he might occasionally waste it in dissipation, he never lost it in sloth. He adhered invariably to Lord Chesterfield's advice, in never suffering the hour of his retiring to bed, to influence that of leaving it; and it would be well, if those young men, who most scrupulously observe all the censurable parts of his lordship's doctrines,