mined, and his amiable dispositious sacrificed to the importunities of vice. Irresolute in love, in friendship, in private and in public virtue, Vivian proceeds by natural and affecting degradation to ultimate ruin: and the career is so continually treading in real life,-such is the conduct, and such the destruction of so large a number, that we ought not, perhaps, to complain of the representation, even where crime is most prominent; although prominent crime, in characters which preserve a lively interest, tends, without doubt, to allay that shrinking disgust which it ought to inspire. In the counsels of Mr. Russel, indeed, the hero's excellent friend, who employs, as we may fairly conclude, every motive and argument with which the author could furnish him, and is a kind of personification, or reservoir, of her principles, we might justly expect to meet with a high standard. At least we should expect it, if our previous acquaintance with Miss Edgeworth did not prevent but perceiving, as her readers will early discover, that she draws from no source superior to human wisdom, employs no remedy more effective than natural conviction, we only regret the deficiency of that materia medica from which her preventives are composed. The consultation being upon that ancient question, Wherewithal shall a young man cleanse his way,' it is strange that Mr. Russel, the reverend Mr. Russel, should forget the ancient prescription,' By taking heed thereto according to thy word; or, another, of tried efficacy, How shall I do this great wickedness, and sin against God! But the idea of sin, as it regards any thing but the misery and disgrace of the sinner, or of the circle in which he acts, does not appear to constitute any part of Miss Edge. worth's system. The guilt of violating a divine command is not insinuated: and those principles which have been found effectual, in numbers of undeniable instances, to strengthen weakness, or to reclaim from profligacy; those which have conducted even Vivians unseduced among importunate temptations, and made them more than conquerors, are studiously kept out of sight. It was not necessary, that they should prove successful; for numbers hear, and assent to, without allowing them to operate upon their minds. But, surely, it was necessary, that a clergyman, who, with a decent deference to religion, is represented as a pattern of virtue and principle, should discharge his trust in something like the Christian character. Miss Edgeworth appears sensible, (poetically sensible, perhaps,) that religion is not to be totally overlooked. It adds the grace of propriety to certain circumstances. She cannot but feel it so. But has she any defined idea of the sentiment, which it would be indecorous wholly to neglect? A vague sense of propriety and necessity, -a kind

of instinctive tenderness, which cannot leave the dying pillow deprived of religious hope, constrain her to admit it: but why is that principle, which, if it be any thing, must govern and model the character, which must purify motive, and regulate action, which, in order to afford substantial support in death, must have been, even upon Miss Edgeworth's principles we conceive, the leading star of life, (for we do not regard her as the advocate of death-bed conversions,) why is this to be exhibited for the first time in its last office? Religion, although a grace, is not a mere grace. Does she intend to intimate, that Vivian had been influenced, during his life, by religious principles? If he were, why do we not perceive their operation, or at least their struggles? And if not, why does she allow him their final consolations? The example of Vivian affords an useful warning to many; and the wisdom of Mr. Russel must be felt as wisdom by all. But let it be remembered, that the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom;' and that unless this foundation be laid, every thing else will be but as loose stones, without stability, and without completeness.

6

The first introduction of Vivian's characteristic weakness in the extravagance of castle-building, varies, a little injudiciously, from Miss Edgeworth's usual mode; and appears, for a time, as if o'erstepping the modesty of Nature. It is necessary to become gradually familiar with character for its stronger expressions to please; and although that of Vivian is previously announced, yet, as readers require to see and hear for themselves, and yield very little to an author's assurances, the exhibition is too sudden to appear natural. Inferior judgement is commonly detected by this test. Writers of undertalent describe elaborately, and furnish a kind of inventory of the mental and personal goods and chattels, with which their personages are endowed; finding it incomparably easier, and forgetting, that in the same proportion it is less interesting, than the display of characteristic action. But, with this fault Miss Edgeworth is not often chargeable. The magic of her genius conjures up living figures; and presents a phantasma, by which the eye is effectually deceived. The character of Lord Glistonbury is described and started at the same mo

ment.

and

'Lord Glistonbury came to receive his guests, attended by three hangers-on of the family, a chaplain, a captain, and a young lawyer. His lordship was scarcely past the meridian of life; yet, in spite of his gay debonnair manner, he looked old, as if he was paying for the libertinism of his youth by premature decrepitude. His countenance announced preten sions to ability: his easy and affable address, and the facility with which he expressed himself, gained him credit, at first, for much more understanding than he really possessed. There was a plausibility in all he said;

but if it was examined, there was nothing in it but nonsense. Some of his expressions appeared brilliant; some of his sentiments just; but there was a want of consistency, a want of a pervading mind in his conversation, which, to good judges, betrayed the truth, that all his opinions were adopted, not formed; all his maxims common place; his wit mere repetition; his sense merely tact. After proper thanks and compliments to Lady Mary and Mr. Vivian, for securing for him such a treasure as Mr. Russel, he introduced lord Lidhurst, a sickly, bashful, yet assured looking boy of fourteen, to his new governor, with polite expressions of unbounded confidence, and a rapid enunciation of undefined and contradictory expectations.

Mr. Russel will, I am perfectly persuaded, make Lidhurst every thing we can desire," said his lordship," an honour to his country; an ornament to his family. It is my decided opinion, that man is but a› bundle of habits; and it's my maxim, that education is second nature— first, indeed, in many cases. For, except that I am staggered about original genius, I own I conceive, with Hartley, that early impressions and associations are all in all: His vibrations and vibratiuncles are quite satisfactory. But what I particularly wish for Lidhurst, sir is, that he should be trained as soon as possible into a statesman. Mr. Vivian, I presume you mean to follow up public business, and no doubt will make a figure. So I prophesy and I am used to these things. And from Lidhurst too, under similar tuition, 1 may with reason expect miracleshope to hear him thundering in the house of commons in a few years 'confess' am not quite so impatient to have the young dog in the house of incurables; for you know he could not be there without being in my shoes, which I have not done with yet-ha! ha! ha! Each in his turn my boy! In the meantime, Lady Mary, shall we join the ladies yonder, on the terrace. Lady Glistonbury walks so slow, that she will be seven hours in coming to us, so we had best go to her ladyship-If the mountain won't go to Mahomet, you know, of course, what follows."

On their way to the terrace, Lord Glistonbury, who always heard himself speak with singular complacency, continued to give his ideas on education; sometimes appealing to Mr. Russel, sometimes happy to catch the eye of Lady Mary.

"Now my idea for Lidhurst is simply this-that he should know every thing that is in all the best books in the library, but yet that he should be the farthest possible from a book-worm that he should never except in a set speech in the house, have the air of having opened a book in his life-mother wit for me!-in most cases and that easy style of originality, which shows the true gentleman. As to morals-Lidhurst, walk on, my boy-as to morals, I confess I couldn't bear to see anything of the Joseph Surface about him. A youth of spirit must, you know, Mr. Vivian excuse me, Lady Mary, this is an aside be something of a latitudinarian to keep in the fashion-not that I mean to say so exactly to Lidhurst no, no!on the contrary, Mr. Russel, it is our cue, as well as this reverend gentleman's," looking back at the chaplain, who bowed assent before he knew to what it is our cue, as well as this reverend gentleman's, to preach prudence, and temperance, and all the cardinal

virtues."

Another unprincipled companion, by whom the ruin of Vivian is accelerated, is thus forcibly characterized.

• Among the men of talents and political consequence, whom he met at Lord Glistonbury's, was Mr. Wharton, whose conversation particularly pleased Vivian, and who now courted his acquaintance with an eagerness, which was peculiarly flattering. Vivian knew him only as a man of great abilities; with his real character he was not acquainted. Wharton had prepossessing manners, and wit sufficient, whenever he pleased, to make the worse appear the better reason. In private or in public debate, he had at his command, and could condescend to employ all, sorts of arms, and every possible mode of annoyance, from the most powerful artillery of logic, to the lowest squib of humour. He was as little nice in the company he kept, as in the style of his conversation. Frequently associating with fools, and even willing to be thought one, he made, alternately, his sport and his advantage of the weakness and follies of mankind. Wharton was philosophically, politically, and fashionably profligate. After having ruined his private fortune by unbounded extravagance, he lived on-nobody knew how-in careless profusion. In public life, he made a distinguished figure; and seemed, therefore, to think himself raised above the necessity of practising any of the minor virtues of economy, prudence, or justice, which common people find essential to their well-being in society. Far from attempting to conceal, he gloried in his faults; for, he knew full well, that, as long as he had the voice of numbers with him, he could bully or laugh, or shame plain reason and rigid principle out of countenance. It was his grand art to represent good sense as stupidity, and virtue as hypocrisy. Hypocrisy was, in his opinion, the only vice which merited the brand of infamy; and from this he took sufficient care to prove, or at least to proclaim, himself free. Even whilst he offended against the decencies of life, there seemed to be something frank and graceful in his manner of throwing aside all disguise. There appeared an air of superior liberality in his avowing himself to be governed by that absolute selfishness, which other men strive to conceal even from their own hearts. He dexterously led his acquaintance to infer, that he would prove as much better than his professions, as other people are often found to be worse than theirs. Where he wished to please, it was scarcely possible to escape the fascination of his manner; nor did he neglect any mode of courting popularity: he knew that a good table is necessary to attract even men of wit; and he made it a point to have the very best cook, and the very best wines. He paid his cook, and his cook was the only person he did pay, in ready money. His wine-merchant he paid in words-an art in which he was a professed, and yet a successful adept, as hundreds of living witnesses were ready to attest. But, though Wharton could cajole, he could not attach his fellow-creatures -he had a party, but no friend. With this distribution of things he was perfectly satisfied; for he considered men only as beings, who were to be worked to his purposes; and he declared, that, provided he had power over their interests and their humours, he cared not what became of their hearts. It was his policy to enlist young men of talents or fortune under his banners; and, consequently, Vivian was an object worthy of his atten tion.'

་

We cannot help remarking, that Mr. Wharton's share in

Vivian's seduction, although it afforded legal security to the criminal, could not properly restore him to his own esteem, and to that of society, as, apparently, it did. From the moment of this discovery, Vivian, and even Mr. Russel, seem perfectly satisfied; as if the only bar to which crime is amenable, were the bar of man. But legal security can in no instance recover from moral degradation. It is the reproach of manners, and a sign of the most vitiated moral sense, to suppose that it can.

We frankly confess ourselves puzzled by the characters of Lady Glistonbury, and her daughter, Lady Sarah; but, with this want of penetration, it is consoling to suspect, that Miss Edgeworth was puzzled too. There is some trouble bestowed upon the representation--more, apparently, than upon others. which are better defined. That of Lady Sarah, particularly, attempts a novel variety of character. But from the inconsistent impressions communicated, it appears to have been never distinctly conceived. At first, we regard them as pieces of petrified propriety:' soon after, conclude that they are pharisaical hypocrites, who but ill conceal, under a sanctimonious taste for the writings of 'Toplady, Wesley, and Bunyan,' a proud self-esteem, a want of natural affection and social virtue, and, with professed horror, a secret tolerance of vice. But, with no small surprise, we find ourselves eventually reconciled to the mother, and obliged to feel for the daughter the live-. liest admiration and esteem. We could almost believe, that Miss Edgeworth intended to compliment the religion of Bunyan by the developement of this character; acting with a degree of consistent, conscientious propriety, such as does not result from the generous dispositions of Lady Julia, or the worldly good sense of Lady Mary Vivian. If Miss Edgeworth is in reality so ingenuous as to attribute the correctness of Lady Sarah's conduct to the peculiarity of her religious views, we are surprised, and grateful. But, whatever be the design, the effect is awkward. The character is interruptedly, and uneasily developed the indications of latent feeling rather startle than please us; and, till it completely expands, convey no clear impression of what we are to understand by them. In the following scene this character attains its highest in

terest.

Left to his cool reflection, Vivian thought, with horror, of the misery into which the event of this duel might involve all with whom he was con nected, and all who were attached to him. The affair was, of course, to be kept a secret from all at Glistonbury House, where Vivian was engaged to dine with a large ministerial party. He went home to dress. Hoping to have a quarter of of an hour to himself, he dismissed his servant, who was waiting in an anti-chamber, saying, that he would ring when he wanted