Much has been written by critics, especially by those in Germany (the native land of criticism), upon the important question, whether to please or to instruct should be the end of Fiction—whether a moral purpose is or is not in harmony with the undidactic spirit perceptible in the higher works of the imagination. And the general result of the discussion has been in favour of those who have contended... more...

                    "The lopped tree in time may grow again,                   Most naked plants renew both fruit and flower;                   The sorriest wight may find release from pain,                   The driest soil suck in some moistening shower:                   Time goes by turns, and... more...

CHAPTER I.   Who art thou, fair one, who usurp'st the place  Of Blanch, the lady of the matchless grace?—LAMB. IT was towards the evening of a day in early April that two ladies were seated by the open windows of a cottage in Devonshire. The lawn before them was gay with evergreens, relieved by the first few flowers and fresh turf of the reviving spring; and at a distance, through an opening... more...

CHAPTER I. THE DEATH-BED OF JOHN VERNON.—HIS DYING WORDS.—DESCRIPTION OF HIS DAUGHTER, THE HEROINE.—THE OATH. "Is the night calm, Constance?" "Beautiful! the moon is up." "Open the shutters wider, there. It is a beautiful night. How beautiful! Come hither, my child." The rich moonlight that now shone through the windows streamed on little that it could invest with poetical... more...

When Walter left his uncle, he hurried, scarcely conscious of his steps, towards his favourite haunt by the water-side. From a child, he had singled out that scene as the witness of his early sorrows or boyish schemes; and still, the solitude of the place cherished the habit of his boyhood. Long had he, unknown to himself, nourished an attachment to his beautiful cousin; nor did he awaken to the secret... more...

CHAPTER I. THE ENCHANTER AND THE WARRIOR. It was the summer of the year 1491, and the armies of Ferdinand and Isabel invested the city of Granada. The night was not far advanced; and the moon, which broke through the transparent air of Andalusia, shone calmly over the immense and murmuring encampment of the Spanish foe, and touched with a hazy light the snow-capped summits of the Sierra Nevada,... more...

THE IDEAL WORLD I. THE IDEAL WORLD,—ITS REALM IS EVERYWHERE AROUND US; ITS INHABITANTS ARETHE IMMORTAL PERSONIFICATIONS OF ALL BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS; TO THAT WORLD WEATTAIN BY THE REPOSE OF THE SENSES. AROUND "this visible diurnal sphere"There floats a World that girds us like the space;On wandering clouds and gliding beams careerIts ever-moving murmurous Populace.There, all the lovelier... more...

CHAPTER I. THE ENCHANTER AND THE WARRIOR. It was the summer of the year 1491, and the armies of Ferdinand andIsabel invested the city of Granada. The night was not far advanced; and the moon, which broke through the transparent air of Andalusia, shone calmly over the immense and murmuring encampment of the Spanish foe, and touched with a hazy light the snow- capped summits of the Sierra Nevada,... more...

                           ALL is not well;           I doubt some foul play.           . . . . . . . . . . . .                           Foul deeds will rise,           Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's... more...

BOOK I.FROM ERASMUS FALKLAND, ESQ., TO THE HON. FREDERICK MONKTON.L—-, May —, 1822. You are mistaken, my dear Monkton! Your description of the gaiety of "the season" gives me no emotion. You speak of pleasure; I remember no labour so wearisome; you enlarge upon its changes; no sameness appears to me so monotonous. Keep, then, your pity for those who require it. From the height of my... more...