burned wax or tallow; but those characters must be indeed poorly drawn which do not enable the reader to satisfy himself about such trifles, allowing that he thinks them worth his study.

An outline of the characters may not be unacceptable. The scene lies principally in the villages of Neverden and Smatterton; and between their rectors Dr. Greendale and Mr. Darnley, and their families; the Earl of Smatterton, of Smatterton Hall; Lord Spoonbill, his son; Sir George Aimwell, of Neverden Hall; Penelope Primrose, the heroine, who is placed by her father under the care of Dr. Greendale, whilst Mr. Primrose seeks to repair his fortune in the Indies; and Robert Darnley, Penelope's suitor, also for sometime in the Indies, who is thwarted in his views by Lord Spoonbill, and a creature named colonel Crop, &c.

In the early part of the narrative, Dr. Greendale dies, and Penelope is removed from Smatterton to London, where she is to be brought out as a singer, under the patronage of the Countess of Smatterton, and Spoonbill is first struck with her charms, and resolves to frustrate his absent rival.

The roguery of a postboy named Nick Muggins, who is employed by the noble suitor to intercept letters, and the aid of Crop, who acts as a sort of go-between, are put in requisition for this purpose; but the villany of the latter is finely defeated in his mistaking a silly, forward girl, Miss Glossop, for Penelope, and accordingly prevailing on her to elope with him to Lord Spoonbill's villa, where the blunder is soon discovered by his lordship, who in return is horsewhipped by the father of Miss Glossop; and Darnley and Penelope are eventually married.

There are two or three adjuncts, as Peter Kipperson, a "march of intellect" man, Erpingham, one of Spoonbill's companions in debauchery, Ellen Fitzpatrick, one of his victims, Dr. Greendale's successor, Charles Pringle; and Zephaniah Pringle, a literary coxcomb of the first order.

The portrait of Dr. Greendale is of high finish—full of the truth and amiability of the Christian character—one who regarded the false distinctions of society in their proper light, and knew how to set a right value upon the influence of good example, and who was "loved and respected for the steadiness and respectability of his character; for the integrity, purity, simplicity, and sincerity of his life." At the same time, the doctor is finely contrasted with his wife, who possessed the common failing of paying homage to her illustrious neighbours to obtain their notice and patronage, and who felt flattered by a collateral branch of the Smattertons accepting an invitation to her table. Of the heroine, we quote the author's outline:—

Penelope Primrose exceeded the middle stature, that her dark blue eyes were shaded by a deep and graceful fringe, that her complexion was somewhat too pale for beauty, but that its paleness was not perceptible as a defect whenever a smile illumined her countenance, and developed the dimples that lurked in her cheek and underlip. Her features were regular, her gait exceedingly graceful, and her voice musical in the highest degree. Seldom, indeed, would she indulge in the pleasure of vocal music, but when she did, as was sometimes the case to please the Countess of Smatterton, her ladyship, who was a most excellent judge, used invariably to pronounce Miss Primrose as the finest and purest singer that she had ever heard.

The character of Lord Spoonbill is struck out with singular felicity and spirit:—

Lord Spoonbill was not one of those careless young men who lose at the university what they have gained at school; one reason was, that he had little or nothing to lose; nor was his lordship one of those foolish people who go to a university and study hard to acquire languages which they never use, and sciences which they never apply in after-life. His lordship had sense enough to conclude that, as the nobility do not talk Greek, he had no occasion to learn it; and as hereditary legislators have nothing to do with the exact sciences, it would be a piece of idle impertinence in him to study mathematics. But his lordship had heard that hereditary legislators did occasionally indulge in other pursuits, and for those pursuits he took especial care to qualify himself. In his lordship's cranium, the organ of exclusiveness was strongly developed. We do not mean that his head was so constructed internally, as to exclude all useful furniture, but that he had a strong sense of the grandeur of nobility and the inseparable dignity which attaches itself to the privileged orders. The only instances in which he condescended to persons in inferior rank, were when he was engaged at the race-course at Newmarket, or when he found that condescension might enable him to fleece some play-loving plebeian, or when affairs of gallantry were concerned. In these matters no one could be more condescending than Lord Spoonbill. We should leave but an imperfect impression on the minds of our readers if we should omit to speak of his lordship's outward and visible form. This was an essential part of himself which he never neglected or forgot; and it should not be neglected or forgotten by his historian. He was tall and slender, his face was long, pale and thin, his forehead was narrow, his eyes large and dull, his nose aquiline, his mouth wide, his teeth beautifully white and well formed, and displayed far more liberally than many exhibitions in the metropolis which are only "open from ten till dusk." His lips were thin, but his whiskers were tremendously thick. Of his person he was naturally and justly proud. Who ever possessed such a person and was not proud of it?

Colonel Crop was only Colonel Crop; he enjoyed the rank of colonel, and that was all the rank that he could boast; he was tolerated at the castle; he dined occasionally with his lordship; and occasionally partook of the pleasure of shooting the birds which were cultivated on his lordship's estate. In town, he patronised the countess' routs, and in the country he was a companion for the earl, when not otherwise engaged. He was proud of the earl's acquaintance, though he was not weak enough to suppose that he was more than tolerated. The haughtiest of the great do sometimes pick up such acquaintances as Colonel Crop, and they cannot easily get rid of them.

We must pass over Peter Kipperson, an excellent whole-length portrait of a man who makes a noise in these marching times, and show in Sir George Aimwell, of Neverden Hall, Bart., who was descended from a long line of illustrious ancestry, and was a wholesale poulterer, and one of the great unpaid. Not that we mean by this expression to insinuate that the retail poulterers did not pay him for what they had: we merely mean to say, that the preserve-worshiping, springgun-setting, poacher-committing baronet administered justice for nothing; and with reverence be it spoken, that was quite as much as it was worth. The worthy baronet was a most active magistrate, peculiarly acute in matters of summary conviction; and thinking it a great pity that any rogue should escape, or that any accused, but honest man, should lose an opportunity of clearing his character by means of a jury of his fellow-countrymen, he never failed to commit all that were brought before him.

Sir George professed Whig politics; these were hereditary in his family, but by no means constitutional in him as an individual. Therefore he passed for a very moderate Whig; for one who would not clog the wheels of government. In short, he was no more a Whig than a game preserver ought to be; and that, as our readers know, is not much. He took especial pains to keep the parish clear of vagrants and paupers; and by his great activity he kept down the poor-rates to a moderate sum. Sir George, though a professed Whig, was not very partial to the education of the lower orders, and he always expressed himself well pleased when he met