Duchess, whose name occurs very often within these pages. There was a period, we find, when that lady was disposed to solitude and reflection; one of those awful periods at which the destiny of an individual seems oscillating in suspense, and a small influence of advice, or circumstance, has the power to decide it. How Dr. Beattie used this entrusted moment, may be seen from the following admonitions :

"Seasons of recollection may be useful; but when one begins to find pleasure in sighing over Young's Night Thoughts' in a corner, it is time to shut the book, and return to the company. Such things may

help to soften a rugged mind; and I believe I might have been the better for them. But your Grace's heart is already too feelingly alive to each fine impulse; and, therefore, to you I would recommend gay thoughts, cheerful books, and sprightly company.”—Vol. II. pp. 28, 29.

We are doubtful which most to admire, the rigid friendship of the adviser, or the notorious docility of the pupil; the degree in which they both exemplify the predominance of a devotional spirit, appears to be nearly equal.

Here our remarks must be concluded. The closing part of Dr. Beattie's life is as affecting as any tragedy we ever read, and will appeal irresistibly to the sympathy of every reader who can reflect or feel. His health had been ruined by intense study, and the hopeless grief arising from the circumstance already mentioned. Under the loss of his nearest relative by what was far worse than her death, his eldest son, an admirable youth, became the object of unbounded affection. At the

age of twenty-two he died. A few years after, his remaining son, not equally interesting with the other, but yet an excellent young man, died also. The afflicted parent manifested a re

signation to the divine will which cannot be surpassed. But nature sunk by degrees into a state, from which his friends could not but congratulate his deliverance by death.

XI.

FASHIONABLE LIFE.

Tales of Fashionable Life. By MISS EDGEWORTH, Author of Practical Education, Belinda, &c.

On the supposition, or the chance, that any small number of our readers may not have taken the trouble to acquaint themselves with the distinguishing qualities of the productions of a writer, who has already contributed the amount of more than twenty volumes to the otherwise scanty stock of our literature,—and, if we may judge from the short interval between the works in the latter part of the series, is likely at the very least, to double the number, it may not be amiss to set down a very few observations, suggested chiefly by the perusal of one portion of her performances, though it belongs by its form to a department over which we do not pretend any right of habitual censorship.

It is evident this writer has a much higher object than merely to amuse. Being very seriously of opinion that mankind want mending, and that she is in possession of one of the most efficacious arts for such a purpose, she has set about the operation in good earnest. But when any machine, material or moral, is wrong, there are a few very obvious prerequisites to the attempt to set it right. The person that undertakes it should know what the machine was designed for; should perceive exactly what part of its present action is defective or mischievous; should discern the cause of this disordered effect; and, for the choice of the implements and method of correction, should have the certainty of the adept, instead of the guesses of the tampering experimenter, or the downright hardihood of ignorant presumption. When the disordered subject to be operated on is a thing of no less importance than human nature, it should seem that these prerequisites are peculiarly indispensable; and the existence ought to be inferrible from

the operator's boldness, if we see him putting to the work so confident a hand as that of our author. A hand more confident, apparently, has very seldom been applied to the business of moral correction; and that business is prosecuted in a manner so little implying, on the part of our author, any acknow. ledgment that she is working on a subordinate ground, and according to the lowest class of the principles of moral discipline, and therefore so little hinting even the existence of any more elevated and authoritative principles,—that she is placed within the cognizance of a much graver sort of criticism than would at first view appear applicable to a writer of tales. She virtually takes her rank among the teachers who profess to exhibit the comprehensive theory of duty and happiness. She would be considered as undertaking the treatment of what is the most serious and lamentable, as well as what is most light and ridiculous, in human perversity; and according to a method which at all events cannot be exceeded in soundness, however it may prove in point of efficacy.

Now when we advert to the prerequisites for such an undertaking, we cannot repress the suspicion that our author is unqualified for it. It is a grand point of incompetency if she is totally ignorant what the human race exists for. And there appears nothing in the present, or such other of her works as we have happened to look into, to prevent the surmise, that this question would completely baffle her. Reduce her to say what human creatures were made for, and there would be an end of her volubility. Whether our species were intended as an exhibition for the amusement of some superior, invisible, and malignant intelligences; or were sent here to expiate the crimes of some pre-existent state; or were made for the purpose, as some philosophers will have it and phrase it, of developing the faculties of the earth, that is to say, managing its vegetable produce, extracting the wealth of its mines, and the like; or were merely a contrivance for giving to a certain number of atoms the privilege of being, for a few years, the constituent particles of warm upright living figures;—whether they are appointed to any future state of sentiment or rational existence ;-whether, if so, it is to be one fixed state, or a series of transmigrations; a higher or lower state than the present; a state of retribution, or bearing no relation to moral qualities; -whether there be any Supreme Power, that presides over the succession and condition of the race, and will see to their

ultimate destination,—or, in short, whether there be any design, contrivance, or intelligent destination in the whole affair, or the fact be not rather, that the species, with all its present circumstances, and whatever is to become of it hereafter, is the production and sport of chance,-all these questions are probably undecided in the mind of our ingenious moralist. And how can she be qualified to conduct the discipline of a kind of beings of the nature and relations of which she is so profoundly ignorant? If it were not a serious thing on account of its presumption, would it not be an incomparably ludicrous one on account of its absurdity, that a popular instructor should be most busily enforcing a set of principles of action-not as confessedly superficial and occasional, and merely subservient to a specific purpose, but as fundamental and comprehensivewhile that instructor does not know whether the creatures, whose characters are attempted to be formed on those principles, are bound or not by the laws of a Supreme Governor, nor whether they are to be affected by the right or wrong of moral principles for only a few times twelve months, or to all eternity?-Here an admirer of Miss Edgeworth's moral philosophy might be expected to say, "But why may not our professor be allowed to set these considerations out of the question; since many things in the theory of morals are very clear and very important independently of them? Integrity, prudence, industry, generosity, and good manners, can be shown to be vitally connected with our immediate interests, and powerfully enforced on that ground, whether there be or be not a Supreme Governor and Judge, and a future life; and why may not our instructor hold this ground, exempt from the interference of theology? What we see we know: we can actually survey the whole scope of what you call the present life of human creatures, and can discern how its happiness is affected by the virtues and vices which our professor so forcibly illustrates: and why may it not be a very useful employment to teach the art of happiness thus far, whatever may ultimately be found to be the truth or error of the speculations on invisible beings and future existences?"

To this the obvious reply would be, first-in terms of identical import with those we have already used-that the ingenious preceptress does not give her pupils the slightest word of warning, that it is possible their moral interests may be of an extent infinitely beyond anything she takes into account: that if the

case is so, her philosophy, however useful to a certain length, in a particular way, cannot but be infinitely inadequate as a disciplinary provision for their entire interests; and that, therefore, in consideration of such a possibility, it is their serious duty to inquire how much more it may be indispensable to learn, than she ever professes to teach them. She does not tell them, and would deem it excessively officious and fanatical in any one that should do it for her, that if there be any truth-nay, if there be the bare possibility of truth-in what religionists believe and teach-a philosopher like her cannot be admitted as competent to contribute to the happiness of mankind, in a much higher capacity than the persons that make clothes and furnish houses. She may not, in so many words, assert it would be idle or delusive to think of proposing any superior and more remotely prospective system of moral principles but all appearances are carefully kept up to the point of implying as much; and we apprehend she would be diverted, or would be fretted, just as the mood of her mind happened at the moment to be, to hear a sensible person, after reading her volumes, say,-" very just, very instructive, on a narrow and vulgar ground of moral calculation; it is well fitted to make me a reputable sort of a man, and not altogether useless, during a few changes of the moon: if I were sure of ending after a few of those changes, in nothing but a clod, I do not know that I should want anything beyond the lessons of this philosopher's school: but while I believe there is even a chance of a higher destiny, it is an obvious dictate of common sense, that it cannot be safe, and that it would be degrading, to attempt to satisfy myself with a little low scheme of morality, adapted to nothing in existence beyond the mere convenience of some score or two of years, more or less." Our first censure is, then, that, setting up for a moral guide, our author does not pointedly state to her followers, that as it is but a very short stage she can pretend to conduct them, they had need-if they suspect they shall be obliged to go further-to be looking out, even in the very beginning of this short stage in which she accompanies them, for other guides to undertake for their safety in the remoter region. She presents herself with the air and tone of a person who would sneer or spurn at the apprehensive insinuated inquiry, whether any change or addition of guides might eventually become necessary.

But, secondly, our author's moral system-on the hypothe