5

surmise, you say nothing, of course: but confess, Emma, that you did want him to marry Harriet."

"I did," replied Emma, "and they cannot forgive me."

He shook his head; but there was the smile of indulgence with it, and he only said.—

"I shall not scold you. I leave you to your own reflections."

“Can you trust me with such flatterers? Does my Io vain spirit ever tell me I am wrong?"

"Not your vain spirit, but your serious spirit. If one leads you wrong, I am sure the other tells you of it."

"I do own myself to have been completely mis15 taken in Mr. Elton. There is a littleness about him which you discovered, and which I did not and I was fully convinced of his being in love with Harriet. It was through a series of strange blunders!"

"And, in return for your acknowledging so much, 20 I will do you the justice to say, that you would have chosen for him better than he has chosen for himself. Harriet Smith has some first-rate qualities, which Mrs. Elton is totally without. An unpretending, single-minded, artless girl-infinitely to be preferred 25 by any man of sense and taste to such a woman as Mrs. Elton. I found Harriet more conversable than I expected."

Emma was extremely gratified. They were interrupted by the bustle of Mr. Weston calling on every30 body to begin dancing again.

66

Come, Miss Woodhouse, Miss Otway, Miss Fairfax, what are you all doing? Come, Emma, set your

companions the example. Everybody is lazy! Every

body is asleep!"

"I am ready," said Emma,

wanted."

"whenever I am

"Whom are you going to dance with?" asked Mr. 5 Knightley.

She hesitated a moment, and then replied, "With you, if you will ask me."

"Will you?" said he, offering his hand.

"Indeed I will. You have shown that you can 10 dance, and you know we are not really so much brother and sister as to make it at all improper."

"Brother and sister !—no, indeed."

[The essential difference between a novel like Emma and the novel of the so-called realistic school lies in the fact that in the former kind the author (compare George Eliot, particularly The Mill on the Floss) rarely leaves the reader in doubt as to his own interest in the characters, while in the realistic novel such implied comment is deemed irrelevant to the artistic purpose. The realist attempts to give life merely as he sees it, and he is, to use the familiar figure, merely the mirror of what he sees. Of this realism in its healthiest form, the novels of Mr. Howells are excellent examples; and his later work, particularly A Hazard of New Fortunes,-for example Chapter VII., of which lack of space and other considerations prevent the reproduction here,-deserves the careful attention of the student. Realism in its extreme form, the analytic novel, le roman expérimental of M. Zola, hardly exists in English. The nearest approach to it is in the novels of Mr. George Moore, particularly Esther Waters; and what the analytic novel is at its best is represented most nearly in English by the works of Mr. Henry James.]

5. Edgar Allen Poe.

Born 1809. Died 1849.

FROM The Gold-Bug.

[Lack of space forbids the reproduction entire of Poe's famous story, but the account of the finding of the treasure will furnish an excellent example of the novel of incident, the story in which plot is dominant. For other examples of stories of this sort the student should turn to Defoe and, better, to Stevenson; and, for careful construction of a plot on a large scale, to Wilkie Collins's The Moonstone, which shows to a remarkable degree the coherent bearing of small details on the main issue. The Moonstone and The Gold-Bug have little interest in character, and hence are admirable examples for the study of plot.

A word is necessary in regard to the situation. A month or so previous to the events narrated in the following selection, William Legrand, a recluse dwelling with his servant, Jupiter, on Sullivan's Island in Charleston Harbor, had picked up a strange beetle of a bronze hue. The night of his discovery he was visited by his friend, the narrator of the tale, to whom he described the new species; for he had temporarily lent the insect. Finding no paper at hand on which to sketch the bug, Legrand was obliged to use a dirty scrap of what appeared to be paper which he found in his pocket. But his friend, on examining the drawing, found in the sketch a striking resemblance to a death's-head. Legrand, nettled at his friend's comment, was about to toss the paper into the fire, when the design caught his own eye; he folded the paper, put it back in his pocket, and during the remainder of the evening said little more. In the month following the two saw nothing of each other, but, from one or two talks with Jupiter, the friend gathered that Legrand was insane, and,

when, one morning, he received a letter begging him to come to Sullivan's Island, he immediately complied. There he found Legrand in a state of great excitement, about to go on an apparently hair-brained expedition. Convinced of Legrand's madness, yet wishing to see that no harm came to him, he agreed to join the enterprise.

Throughout the passage the student should note the steady forward progression of the style. The unity of the passage is singularly good, and its movement is relieved from monotony by the dialogue.]

WITH a heavy heart I accompanied my friend. We started about four o'clock-Legrand, Jupiter, the dog, and myself. Jupiter had with him the scythe and spades-the whole of which he insisted upon carrying— more through fear, it seemed to me, of trusting either of 5 the implements within reach of his master, than from any excess of industry or complaisance. His demeanour was dogged in the extreme, and "dat d-d bug" were the sole words which escaped his lips during the journey. For my own part, I had charge of a couple 10 of dark lanterns, while Legrand contented himself with the scarabæus, which he carried atttached to the end of a bit of whip-cord, twirling it to and fro, with the air of a conjuror, as he went. When I observed this last, plain evidence of my friend's aberration of 15 mind, I could scarcely refrain from tears. I thought it best, however, to humour his fancy, at least for the present, or until I could adopt some more energetic measures with a chance of success. In the meantime I endeavoured, but all in vain, to sound him in regard 20 to the object of the expedition. Having succeeded in inducing me to accompany him, he seemed unwilling to hold conversation upon any topic of minor impor

tance, and to all my questions vouchsafed no other reply than "We shall see!"

We crossed the creek at the head of the island by means of a skiff, and, ascending the high grounds on 5 the shore of the mainland, proceeded in a northwesterly direction, through a tract of country excessively wild and desolate, where no trace of a human footstep was to be seen. Legrand led the way with decision; pausing only for an instant, here and there, Io to consult what appeared to be certain landmarks of his own contrivance upon a former occasion.

In this manner we journeyed for about two hours, and the sun was just setting when we entered a region infinitely more dreary than any yet seen. It was a 15 species of tableland, near the summit of an almost inaccessible hill, densely wooded from base to pinnacle, and interspersed with huge crags that appeared to lie loosely upon the soil, and in many cases were prevented from precipitating themselves into the val 20 leys below, merely by the support of the trees against which they reclined. Deep ravines, in various directions, gave an air of still sterner solemnity to the

scene.

The natural platform to which we had clambered 25 was thickly overgrown with brambles, through which we soon discovered that it would have been impossible to force our way but for the scythe; and Jupiter, by direction of his master, proceeded to clear for us a path to the foot of an enormously tall tulip-tree, which 30 stood, with some eight or ten oaks, upon the level, and far surpassed them all, and all other trees which I had then ever seen, in the beauty of its foliage and form,