and joys and griefs of life go on after, as
before the nuptial ceremony.

Therefore I say, it is an unfair advantage which the novelist takes of
hero and heroine, as of his inexperienced reader, to say good-by to the
two former, as soon as ever they are made husband and wife; and I have
often wished that additions should be made to all works of fiction which
have been brought to abrupt terminations in the manner described; and
that we should hear what occurs to the sober married man, as well as to
the ardent bachelor; to the matron, as well as to the blushing spinster.
And in this respect I admire (and would desire to imitate,) the noble
and prolific French author, Alexandre Dumas, who carries his heroes from
early youth down to the most venerable old age; and does not let them
rest until they are so old, that it is full time the poor fellows should
get a little peace and quiet. A hero is much too valuable a gentleman to
be put upon the retired list, in the prime and vigor of his youth; and
I wish to know what lady among us would like to be put on the shelf, and
thought no longer interesting, because she has a family growing up, and
is four or five and thirty years of age? I have known ladies at sixty,
with hearts as tender and ideas as romantic as any young misses of
sixteen. Let us have middle-aged novels then, as well as your extremely
juvenile legends: let the young ones be warned that the old folks have
a right to be interesting: and that a lady may continue to have a heart,
although she is somewhat stouter than she was when a school-girl, and a
man his feelings, although he gets his hair from Truefitt's.

Thus I would desire that the biographies of many of our most illustrious
personages of romance should be continued by fitting hands, and that
they should be heard of, until at least a decent age.--Look at Mr.
James's heroes: they invariably marry young. Look at Mr. Dickens's:
they disappear from the scene when they are mere chits. I trust these
authors, who are still alive, will see the propriety of telling us
something more about people in whom we took a considerable interest,
and who must be at present strong and hearty, and in the full vigor
of health and intellect. And in the tales of the great Sir Walter (may
honor be to his name), I am sure there are a number of people who are
untimely carried away from us, and of whom we ought to hear more.

My dear Rebecca, daughter of Isaac of York, has always, in my m