proaches mingled with his gratitude!—it is very certain that late hours, balls, suppers, masquerades, had their share in this change; but all was placed to love's account; and without falsehood, might it not be said, that love caused her to lead such a life? When we are mortally afflicted, ought we not to tear ourselves from solitude? ought we not to dissipate a little, give concerts, go to plays, in fine, not sink under melancholy, but preserve ourselves for him we love! Alas! when death is in the heart, by a sublime effort of sentiment and of reason, we sing, we laugh, we dance!—it is thus that the married people, the lovers, the friends of our days, whom fate separates, escape consumption. Of course, our grandfathers and grandmothers had but vulgar sensibilities, so all these distractions were not required by them; but with the presenting my romance."- "I will be the worst of all refinement of feeling, what would become of as, under acute sorrow, if we should quit the gay world, retire into the country, or bury ourselve in a gloomy castle!-we should not hold it out for eight days! we should die. This is what we call loving!

five or six houses, and then the book is forgotten for all eternity; but the author's name remains inscribed upon the list of literary women-endless list! I confess it is not very flattering to see one's name there, but" the reverse is thought shameful. Thus you find it is not from a thirst for fame that I publish, but merely that I may not be singu|| lar "—" And you have put your name to this work?"-"It is customary to put only your christian name, with three stars.”—“ Why not frankly declare yourself the author of the work when you give it to the public? Has not Rousseau said, that an honest man should answer for his book?"-" Honest women answer for nothing; is not that much more pru-, dent!"-" Do you think so, Eulalie !”—“I speak generally; but I insist upon your read

After a discourse full of tenderness and delight, after a thousand questions, to which it was useless or impossible to reply, and a thou sand little falsehoods, without which modern love could not exist two minutes, our lovers were enchanted with each other's candour; and, like all such lovers, great cheats and great dupes, began to speak with more composure upon less interesting subjects.

possible judges, for I shall be the most pre-
judiced have you the romance here?".
"Yes, it is there, on that shelf."" Good
heaven! is it one of those of which I have just
read the titles!-can you be the author of
Nigaudinet and Codindine!"-" Compose your-
self, I write only in the heroic style : listen to
me, Clairville, you have still more to hear."—
"What, then, you are a poet too—
-you have
composed an epic poem ?"-"I am no longer
going to speak of myself, but of you."-
"What?"—"It is absolutely necessary for
you to publish."-"I!"-" Yes-I exact it."
"How can you think of such a thing!".
"This desire is the result of deliberate re-

flection."-"What a fancy!-pray tell me, at
least, why you wish me to become an
author?"-"Simply because, then, we could
not reproach each other."-"Ah! I protest
to you before reading it, that I am sure to
dote on your romance to distraction, and that
I shall never speak to you of it but in ex-
tacies.""I shall not rely on the word of a
lover. I know you, Clairville; you are some-
times spiteful and satirical enough; I resolve,
therefore, to be placed in a condition of re-
turning your jests, should you ever have the
impertinence to utter them."-" So then, you
want me to write, just as you would an ac-
complice?"-" Precisely; your works must
be in as many volumes as mine; we shall have
them read together; and in speaking of our

“Happily remembered,” exclaimed Eulalie, "I bave an important confidence to make to you"-" How! and you have not already done it.”—“It requires preparation."—" Preparation with me, Eulalie!"-"Yes, indeed, for I am going to astonish you.”—“You agitate me!”—“ I have become an authoress!"— "You have written a book?"-" Yes, and it is printed "-"I confess to you frankly then, that-""Dearest Clairville, spare yourself the trouble of repeating all that may be said against female authors, I know it beforehand; besides, remember there is no longer a question about the propriety of publishing--|| the thing is done."-" And does the modest Eulalie seek celebrity ?"—" Not I, I do assure you. When women are young and pretty, it is not their works which render them cele-productions, we may truly say our works."brated, but it is their persons which give reputation to their works. When an intelligent, charming woman appears in society, the first question that is asked is, What Romance has she written?-a friend mentions the name of the publisher; the fair author's admirers make the work sell; it is spoken of for two days in

"Certainly a very suitable phrase for married people. Nevertheless, after the law you have imposed, I am horribly alarmed at your fertility: if, for instance, you should write folios."-" No, no, I confiue myself to modest 12mos."-"Now then, tell me, I beseech you, how you manufacture volumes, that I may

it; but the fiction has cost me a prodigious him never to see a ruin or a tomb, without deal of trouble; you will find it excellently well || imagined, and you will be astonished at the precision and energy of the style" After this preface Dymas coughed, collected himself || for a moment, and then read pompously as follows:

"Upon the utility of the Work, and the end pro

posed by the Author.

falling into melancholy reflections on the nothingness of greatness, and the fragility of life. Every forest must excite in him a reli. gious korror; every mountain an extasy: upon all the hills, and in all the meadows, if he is forty years old, he must call up the sweet remembrances of his youth; if he is but thirty, it must be the idea of his mistress. Each morning he must rise duly with the sun, to catch inspiration from his beams; and each night he must melt into tenderness with the moon; he must paint neither manners nor places, but yield a faithful register of all his sensations.

Of Romances.

"When a capital contains twenty-two theatres, and nearly as many writers as inhabitants, it becomes necessary to simplfy an art that has grown commou, SO that it may be easily cultivated by persons of all professions such is my aim; and I declare that the several Arts of Fuetry which existed before this, were merely suited to our grandfathers, who we know had no liberal ideas. The rules of Aristotle, Marmontel, and Boileau,may even yet be useful to slaves; but I write for eit zenized minds! I write in the nineteenth ceatory! Thus, far from wishing to put shackles upon genius, I pant to give her freedom, and to render her back that sublime in-publications under contribution) this fashion dependence of nature, to which every talent owes its developement!

Upon Style in general.

"When intrigue, pleasure, and dissipation leave us not an hour in the day for occupation or reflection, there is yet a very easy way of composing an agreeable romance in three weeks or less: it is to turn over a few old. romances, and extract enough for a pretty little compilation: (indeed there are some bold spirits amongst us, who lay even new

is charmingly adapted to those who want time and imagination. But whoever would produce a great work, must erect a castle! This species, lately invented in England, is now the rage in France. It was formerly believed. terror never produced subline effects, unless it issued from or were united to a great interest: such is the terror inspired by the King, in Macbeth, and the murder of Zopise, in Mahomet. But we have imbibed such a taste for terror, that now we love it on its own account. Innocent taste! for it is that of children: they always like the story best, which frightens

mest.

“There is no longer any style but one. We write a history, a tale, a voyage, a letter, in precisely the same manner. It is now acknowledged that what was formerly denominated harmony, is in truth but another term for puerility: it is not to the ear, but to the mind we should speak to subject ourselves to the rules of a language is a contemptible weakness. These rules were made by men like ourselves, we have therefore the right of To compose, after the English model, rejecting them when they become irksome to a romance which makes you tremble through us; and this happy license produces an ad- three or four volumes, you must by no means mirable variety in our literature; each writer make a poetical elevation of your castle it is following the bent of his own taste or genius, only requisite to raise it like a real enwrites in language peculiar to himself! To|gineer. The castle must be vast and dilapidatbe profound and sensible is indispensible; hap-ed; a thing very easy found in France at this pily this merit is not so hard to acquire as was formerly believed, for all our modern authors lay claim to it A profound idea is an idea which obliges us to think; and we may surely say, without flattering our moralists, that very often their ideas baffle our comprehension so entirely, that we may ponder upon them during the whole of our life without arriving at the felicity of fathoming their depth.

Upon the manner of writing Travels. "It is no longer necessary for a traveller to give descriptions of cities, monuments, collections of pictures, &c.; but it is exacfed of No. XV. Vol. III.-N. S.

period; and that circumstance certainly gives us great advantage over the English romance-writers), the author transports himself into the castle he has made choice of, exactly traces the ground-plan, and three-quarters of his romance is accomplished: that operation terminated, he has nothing more to do than to walk his heroine all over the castle, from the cellar to the garret; at night he conducts her from chamber to chamber, along galleries, into old chapels, among ruins, during which the most fearless reader finds his hair bristle up from his head.

"The writer, like the architect, may vary C.

Here Dymas interrupted himself:-" I believe," said he, "that this is quite enough to give you an idea of my work."-" Quite enough," replied Clairville, "bat oue thing astonishes me; it is that you, one of the authors of the Encyclopædia, have not said a single word on the subject of philosophy!"

through; consider it well, and in a few days it will enable you to rival your instructor."

Perfectly satisfied, Clairville thanked his friend, and putting The New Art of Poetry in bis pocket, he took leave of Dymas, and shutting himself up in his own house, be resigned his mind entirely to that labour which was to procure him the hand of Eulalie.

Clairville followed nearly all the rules of Dymas, and as he really possessed talent, it appeared in his romance. His work was unequal, devoid of nature, and consequently of interest but it was written in a broken style, of which each phrase formed an epigram, or a sentence, if not very just, at least novel, by his singular mode of expression.

It was no sooner printed than he hastened to bear the first copy to his mistress. Charın ed with his obedience, Eulalie received the offering with that sort of superiority which a practised author arrogates to himself over one ho has just made his first essay.

"How!" said she, smiling, with something of ridicule in her smile, two volumes in so short a time!"-"I wrote at your command.—I have tried to write opposite classes, and so give it variety: there is some sentiment in it, and some gaiety."-Very good; but, my dear Clairville, I am extremely sorry that you did not consult me; I am more used to composition, and I could have hoped that, previous to its being printed, you would have suffered me to read it."-" I sought to surprise you."-" Leave me now; I will give you my opinion to-morrow,”

"My friend," replied Dymas, "the glorious days of philosophy are gone, and will return no more: the present taste will not allow us even to make her eulogiuin; the most celebrated of her champions have abandoned her cause; and to say the truth, it has become untenable. What can be done when no bookseller will re-print Rosseau, Voltaire, or Diderot, and when new editions of Bossuet, Fenelon, &c. are multiplied and rece.ved with transport by the public?""That must be very mortifying to the philosophic sect, since out of mere levity people adopt new ideas with enthusiasm. Truth alone, guided by experience, may bring us back to former principles, and when once returved, we shall fix there."-" That is precisely what I have been shewing to you; for our reign is past. At this period, an impious book would fall dead from the press without a chance of resurrection."- "What then; all the efforts of the most brilliant talents in France, all their voluminous works, all their cabals during sixty years, have at length terminated in blasting their own laurels, and giving fresh vigour to eligion their succces has caused their fall; their very triumph has demonstrated the danger of their system. Do you not perceive the hand of Providence in all this."" confess to you that at the bottom of my own heart, I have long abjured philosophy.""Well then, why should you conceal it?""Yes-but to retract former opinions ; to range oneself by the side of what one bas combated, to confess that the works we have been producing through the course of thirty years, are full of errors, would be very pain-deration. Clairville did not admit the justice ful.”—“ It would be generous, noble, worthy of admiration.”—“Besides, thongh the pubno longer intoxicated with philosophy, she has yet a number of adherents; these philosophers, though without leaders, or general estimation, have infinite malice, and might prove very dangerous enemies.peated to herself that this work, composed by But let us return to my poetics.-There! her order, and to obtain her hand, would retake the MS. home with you; read it main for ever a glorious monument of Clair

lic are

1

In reality, as soon as Clairville was gone, Eulalie applied herself to read the romance : she expected to find it greatly inferior to her own, and she could not help acknowledging that it wss infinitely more brillant. Her extreme surprise nearly amounted to vexation. She read on through the greater part of the night, and the next day she had the spleen and the head ache. When Clairville came again to see her, she found a kind of embarrassment in speaking to him of his work; nevertheless she applauded it extravagantly, and afterwards criticised it with as little mio

of all her criticisms, and Eulalie inwardly accused him of a disgusting self-conceit. By degrees the tenderness and the gallantry of Clairville dissipated these annoying impressions: gratified love stifled for a while the growing jealousy of an author. Eulalie re

ON SNEEZING.

THE year 750, is commonly reckoned the ara of the custom of saying, "God bless you," to one who happens to sneeze. It is said that in the time of the pontificate of St. Gregory the Great, the air was filled with such a deleterious influence, that they who sneezed imme-hermetically. He instantly flies back to his diately expired. On this the devout pontiff appointed a form of prayer, and a wish to be said to persons sneezing, for averting from them the fatal effects of this malignancy. A fable contrived against all the rules of probability, it being certain that this custom has from time immemorial subsisted in all parts of the known world. According to mythology, the