, that is not at all adhered to in many
novels--witness the drinking-scene in ----, and others equally _outrees_,
in which the author, having turned probability out of doors, ends by
throwing possibility out of the window--leaving folly and madness to
usurp their place--and play a thousand antics for the admiration of the
public, who, pleased with novelty, cry out "How fine!"

_A._ Buy the book, and laud the author.

_B._ Exactly. Now, having left your hero and heroine in a situation
peculiarly interesting, with the greatest nonchalance, pass over to the
continent, rave on the summit of Mont Blanc, and descant upon the strata
which compose the mountains of the Moon in central Africa. You have been
philosophical, now you must be geological. No one can then say that your
book is light reading.

_A._ That can be said of few novels. In most of them even smoke assumes
the ponderosity of lead.

_B._ There is a metal still heavier, which they have the power of
creating--gold--to pay a dunning tailor's bill.

_A._ But after having been philosophical and geological, ought one not
to be a little moral?

_B._ Pshaw! I thought you had more sense. The great art of novel writing
is to make the vices glorious, by placing them in close alliance with
redeeming qualities. Depend upon it, Ansard, there is a deeper, more
heartfelt satisfaction than mere amusement in novel reading; a
satisfaction no less real, because we will not own it to ourselves; the
satisfaction of seeing all our favourite and selfish ideas dressed up in
a garb so becoming, that we persuade ourselves that our false pride is
proper dignity, our ferocity courage, our cowardice prudence, our
irreligion liberality, and our baser appetites mere gallantry.

_A._ Very true, Barnstaple; but really I do not like this whirlwind.

_B._ Well, well, I give it up then; it was your own idea. We'll try
again. Cannot you create some difficulty or dilemma, in which to throw
her, so that the hero may come to her rescue with _eclat_?

_A._ Her grey palfrey takes fright.

_B._ So will your readers; stale--quite stale!

_A._ A wild bull has his horns close to her, and is about to toss her.

_B._ As your book would be--away with contempt. Vapid--quite vapid!

_A._ A shipwreck--the waves are about to close over her.

_B._ Your book would be closed at the same moment--worn out--quite worn
out.

_A._ In the dead of the night, a fire breaks out--she is already in the
midst of t