square-toed shoes, were polished into a lustre which almost rivalled the
splendour of diamonds. Mr. Jonas Elmore was a beau, a wit, and a scholar
of the old school. He abounded in jests, in quotations, in smart sayings,
and pertinent anecdotes: but, withal, his classical learning, (out of the
classics he knew little enough,) was at once elegant, but wearisome;
pedantic, but profound.

To this gentleman Walter presented a letter of introduction which he had
obtained from a distinguished clergyman in York. Mr. Elmore received it
with a profound salutation--"Aha, from my friend, Dr. Hebraist," said he,
glancing at the seal, "a most worthy man, and a ripe scholar. I presume
at once, Sir, from his introduction, that you yourself have cultivated
the literas humaniores. Pray sit down--ay--I see, you take up a book, an
excellent symptom; it gives me an immediate insight into your character.
But you have chanced, Sir, on light reading,--one of the Greek novels, I
think,--you must not judge of my studies by such a specimen."

"Nevertheless, Sir, it does not seem to my unskilful eye very easy
Greek."

"Pretty well, Sir; barbarous, but amusing,--pray continue it. The
triumphal entry of Paulus Emilius is not ill told. I confess, that I
think novels might be made much higher works than they have been yet.
Doubtless, you remember what Aristotle says concerning Painters and
Sculptors, 'that they teach and recommend virtue in a more efficacious
and powerful manner, than Philosophers by their dry precepts, and are
more capable of amending the vicious, than the best moral lessons without
such aid.' But how much more, Sir, can a good novelist do this, than the
best sculptor or painter in the world! Every one can be charmed by a fine
novel, few by a fine painting. 'Indocti rationem artis intelligunt,