lar to that which has been exhibited a thousand and a thousand times; but may not the grouping be varied, the figures presented in new attitudes, the light and shade differently managed? Until error has laid aside its Proteus character; until it ceases to assume an infinite variety of forms, an attentive observer of morals and manners, will probably find something in both, to counteract, and to combat. It has been suggested to the author of the following tale, that the gravity of her title-page may alarm the, gay, she is quite ready to allow that dulness must be fatal to a work of fiction, and she has been as anxious as the gayest of the gay could desire, to recommend the truths which she has at. heart, without being guilty of this unpardonable sin. The pious reader, if any such should honour this tribing work with their attention, will not, she trusts, mistake the motives by which the writer has been influenced. If she has touched upon those modes of faith or religious belief, which produce errors of practice, it has not been for the unhallowed purpose of depreciating religion itself. The narrow, intemperate, injudicious zeal, pourtrayed in one of her characters, is totally distinct from that holy and humble earnestness, without which religion is little more than a form. Infidelity, indeed, has resumed its malignant activity; and our feelings have been outraged by hearing all that is sacred in the doctrines, all that is dear and venerable in the institutions, of our religion, profaned and polluted; it is not, however, less certain that the profession of earnest piety is no longer either discreditable or unfashionable. The 'dexterous secrecy,' with which Dean Swift contrived to perform his family devotions, would now be as needless as it was then cowardly. But, though Religion forms so prominent a figure on the canvass, she is not always exhibited in her own fair and beautiful proportions; the three Christian graces, by whom she should be perpetually encircled, are sometimes unwisely separated; and thus the sphere of her usefulness is contracted, and the brightness of her countenance obscured,.... But if these mistakes have not been passed, over in silence, the author hopes that the more fatal error of those who reject; despise, or neglect religion, has not been left in the shade; and that the young and gay who seek entertainment in the perusal of this little work, will close it with the impression that, weighed against pure, active, and enlightened religious principle; the splendour of rank, the magic of wit and the fascinations of genius, are but dust in the balance. GERALDINE. CHAPTER I. THERE is no possibility of refusing this request," said Mrs. Mowbray, addressing her husband, as she folded up a letter she had just received" there is absolutely no possibility—" "Then, my dear," returned Mr. Mowbray, "the request has at least the charm of novelty; for I never yet heard or met with one, that it was absolutely impossible to refuse." "You have been singularly fortunate, Mr. Mowbray; my experience has been less happy-by the bye, a case in point:-Last night, Georgiana was pounced upon for a partner in a quadrille, the moment she entered the ballroom, by a man almost as ugly as the 'veiled prophet; and how could she possibly refuse?" "I have little doubt, my dear, that she would have danced with the 'veiled prophet' himself, rather than have missed the quadrille, and been reduced to the alternative of remaining quiet the whole evening; but the word impossible is "Oh! spare me, I beseech," said the lady, with a look of mock-supplication; "spare me the definitions-the derivations: I have an instinctive, irresistible, unconquerable aversion to them; so lay aside that alarming logical look ; for I defy you and Horne Tooke, and Johnson, and Lowth, and all the Pundits and Rabbis that ever existed, to make me like or enjoy a definition." • "Notwithstanding your instinctive horror of them," replied Mr. Mowbray, "I venture to pronounce that they are very useful, satisfactory sort of things." "Very possibly, my dear, very possibly; they may be highly satisfactory to some minds; to those who like to dig, and delve, and dive; but I, who would rather plume my wing, and soar wherever fancy leads, I declare war against them they are the ruin of eloquence." : "Of what species of eloquence, my dear?" said Mr. Mowbray drily, "of a lover's, or a lawyer's, or a lady's ?" "Of all and every species, genus, and variety. How can a ray of eloquence be expected from that slow, pausing, pondering race, whose sole delight is in definitions!" "Sole delight," echoed Mr. Mowbray, quietly-"When you are tired, my dear," continued he, "of twisting that paper into fifty different shapes, perhaps I shall get a peep at its contents. You will at least give me credit for successfully cúrbing my curiosity." |