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If the heroine of one novel be not patronized by the heroine of
another； from whom can she expect protection and regard？ I
cannot approve of it。 Let us leave it to the reviewers to abuse such
effusions of fancy at their leisure； and over every new novel to talk
in threadbare strains of the trash with which the press now
groans。 Let us not desert one another； we are an injured body。
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Although our productions have afforded more extensive and
unaffected pleasure than those of any other literary corporation in
the world； no species of composition has been so much decried。
From pride； ignorance； or fashion； our foes are almost as many as
our readers。 And while the abilities of the nine…hundredth
abridger of the History of England； or of the man who collects and
publishes in a volume some dozen lines of Milton； Pope； and Prior；
with a paper from the Spectator； and a chapter from Sterne； are
eulogized by a thousand pens；—there seems almost a general wish
of decrying the capacity and undervaluing the labour of the
novelist； and of slighting the performances which have only
genius； wit； and taste to recommend them。 “I am no novel…
reader—I seldom look into novels—Do not imagine that I often
read novels—It is really very well for a novel。”—Such is the
common cant。—“And what are you reading； Miss—？” “Oh！ It is
only a novel！” replies the young lady； while she lays down her
book with affected indifference； or momentary shame。 “It is only
Cecilia； or Camilla； or Belinda；” or； in short； only some work in
which the greatest powers of the mind are displayed； in which the
most thorough knowledge of human nature； the happiest
delineation of its varieties； the liveliest effusions of wit and
humour； are conveyed to the world in the best…chosen language。
Now； had the same young lady been engaged with a volume of the
Spectator； instead of such a work； how proudly would she have
produced the book； and told its name； though the chances must be
against her being occupied by any part of that voluminous
publication； of which either the matter or manner would not
disgust a young person of taste： the substance of its papers so
often consisting in the statement of improbable circumstances；
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unnatural characters； and topics of conversation which no longer
concern anyone living； and their language； too； frequently so
coarse as to give no very favourable idea of the age that could
endure it。
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CHAPTER VI
he following conversation； which took place between the
two friends in the Pump…room one morning； after an
T
acquaintance of eight or nine days； is given as a specimen
of their very warm attachment； and of the delicacy； discretion；
originality of thought； and literary taste which marked the
reasonableness of that attachment。
They met by appointment； and as Isabella had arrived nearly
five minutes before her friend； her first address naturally was；—
“My dearest creature； what can have made you so late？ I have
been waiting for you at least this age！”
“Have you； indeed！—I am very sorry for it； but really I thought I
was in very good time。 It is but just one。 I hope you have not been
here long？”
“Oh！ These ten ages at least。 I am sure I have been here this
half hour。 But now； let us go and sit down at the other end of the
room； and enjoy ourselves。 I have an hundred things to say to you。
In the first place； I was so afraid it would rain this morning； just as
I wanted to set off； it looked very showery； and that would have
thrown me into agonies！ Do you know； I saw the prettiest hat you
can imagine； in a shop window in Milsom…street just now—very
like yours； only with coquelicot ribbons instead of green； I quite
longed for it。 But； my dearest Catherine； what have you been
doing with yourself all this morning？—Have you gone on with
Udolpho？”
“Yes； I have been reading it ever since I woke； and I am got to
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the black veil。”
“Are you； indeed？ How delightful！ Oh！ I would not tell you what
is behind the black veil for the world！ Are not you wild to know？”
“Oh！ yes； quite； what can it be？—But do not tell me—I would
not be told upon any account。 I know it must be a skeleton； I am
sure it is Laurentina’s skeleton。 Oh！ I am delighted with the book！
I should like to spend my whole life in reading it。 I assure you； if it
had not been to meet you； I would not have come away from it for
all the world。”
“Dear creature！ How much I am obliged to you； and when you
have finished Udolpho； we will read the Italian together； and I
have made out a list of ten or twelve more of the same kind for
you。”
“Have you； indeed！ How glad I am！—What are they all？”
“I will read you their names directly； here they are； in my
pocketbook。 Castle of Wolfenbach； Clermont； Mysterious
Warnings； Necromancer of the Black Forest； Midnight Bell；
Orphan of the Rhine； and Horrid Mysteries。 Those will last us
some time。”
“Yes； pretty well； but are they all horrid； are you sure they are
all horrid？”
“Yes； quite sure； for a particular friend of mine； a Miss
Andrews； a sweet girl； one of the sweetest creatures in the world；
has read every one of them。 I wish you knew Miss Andrews； you
would be delighted with her。 She is netting herself the sweetest
cloak you can conceive。 I think her as beautiful as an angel； and I
am so vexed with the men for not admiring her！—I scold them all
amazingly about it。”
“Scold them！ Do you scold them for not admiring her？”
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“Yes； that I do。 There is nothing I would not do for those who
are really my friends。 I have no notion of loving people by halves；
it is not my nature。 My attachments are always excessively strong。
I told Captain Hunt at one of our assemblies this winter that if he
was to tease me all night； I would not dance with him； unless he
would allow Miss Andrews to be as beautiful as an angel。 The men
think us incapable of real friendship； you know； and I am
determined to show them the difference。 Now； if I were to hear
anybody speak slightingly of you； I should fire up in a moment：—
but that is not at all likely； for you are just the kind of girl to be a
great favourite with the men。”
“Oh； dear！” cried Catherine； colouring； “how can you say so？”
“I know you very well； you have so much animation； which is
exactly what Miss Andrews wants； for I must confess there is
something amazingly insipid about her。 Oh！ I must tell you； that
just after we parted yesterday； I saw a young man looking at you
so earnestly—I am sure he is in love with you。” Catherine
coloured； and