to act. He will be apt to regard them as things belonging to another world, and with which he has no practical concern. It might be otherwise in the early ages of society, during that warlike and adventurous period, when fables the most extravagant were easily credited, and when the common events of life were susceptible of poetical embellishment. To describe these events now in the same manner would, I suspect, have rather a burlesque than a pleasing effect.

In the case of political and historical fictions, it may be inquired, whether they ought to be altogether imaginary, or founded in part upon real events. The last method may certainly assist that impression of reality, which is so necessary in order to give interest to the narrative. Yet there are circumstances, which may, perhaps, be found to overbalance this advantage. It must prove a severe restraint on the fancy of the writer, who will often find it no easy task to prevent his story from clashing with the history or tradition on which it is founded. The engrafted fiction also tends to give false

impressions in regard to the history. Some times even, as will appear in the sequel, it throws over it an obscurity which is never removed. It seems, therefore, to be for the mutual advantage both of truth and fiction, that they should be kept altogether distinct; or, if a foundation must be laid in some real events, that they should be as few, and as remote, as possible, in point of time and place.

Is it proper, that narratives formed with * this design should be crowded with surprising and improbable incidents. This has been long assumed by the writers of fiction as an indisputable privilege. Events, that in real life appear altogether incredible, are there quite in the common order of things. To conduct their hero through all the mazes of adventure; to involve him in difficulties apparently inextricable; to keep the reader perpetually on the rack of suspense and anxiety, are, in general, the objects chiefly aimed at by the authors of such performances. The more improbable an incident is, the more unlike common life, the better is it

arpose. The ori is easily accountprinting, and

supposed fitted for their gin of this mode of writ ed for. The invention consequent diffusion of books, has given birth to a multitude of readers, who seek only for amusement, and wish to find it without trouble or thought. Works thus conducted, supply them with one which is level to the lowest capacities. How wel! they are adapted to the taste of this descrip-tion of readers appears plainly from the extraordinary avidity with which they are de voured.

No good effect seems likely to result from such a kind of reading besides the mere childish pleasure it affords. It tends to give false views of human life; to inspire fantastic and visionary expectations; discontent with the uniformity of common life; and a disposition to choose the plan of conduct which leads to extraordinary adventures, rather than that which true wisdom points out. A crowd of incidents will leave little room for the display of character and sentiment, or any higher beauties, of which this kind of

writing is susceptible. Even supposing them to exist there, the attention of the reader is likely to be too much occupied to admit of his receiving from them any deep impression.

It is true, among probable events, the writer must make a selection of those which possess the requisite degree of dignity and interest. Not that he ought to confine himself entirely to such as are g. cat and striking. It must often be his object to embellish, and render interesting, the most simple scenes of ordinary life.

Unity also has been regarded by the most distinguished critics as essential to every work of invention. One action must run through the whole, to which all the rest are subordi nate. The advantage of this is not to be denied; though I hardly think it entitled to hold the first rank among the merits of these compositions.

Nor is that pleasure to be altogether ncglected, which arises from exciting and gratifying the reader's curiosity. We must only take care not to make it interfere with

those of an higher order, nor to sacrifice to it, in any considerable degree, probability or the truth of nature.

Having examined these questions regarding the manner in which narratives written with this design ought to be conducted, it may be proper to say a few words on the preparation which is requisite for the author before engaging in them. And here there seems to be a difference between this and the generality of other literary pursuits. In these the writer ought to devote himself chiefly to the attentive study of those who have preceded him in the same path. But this does not appear to me to take place with regard to fiction. When founded upon the obser vation of real events, it may, if used with moderation, be a salutary mental food; but not, I suspect, when founded upon other fictions. The merit of a man's conduct must depend upon its being adapted to his real circumstances. It is by considering these, that his duties are to be ascertained; nor could it be of much use to represent any one acting with the most perfect propriety in. si