And plots are laid, and histories are told."
To these home-truths, succeeds that admirable satirical description of our novel literature, which introduces the sad story of Ellen Orford. My space is little, but I must give a specimen of the manner in which the Cervantes of England strips away the sublime fooleries of our literary knight-errantry.
"Time have I lent—I would their debt were less—
To flowing pages of sublime distress;
And to the heroine's soul-distracting fears
I early gave my sixpences and tears;
Oft have I traveled in these tender tales,
To Darnley Cottages and Maple Vales.
* * * * * *
I've watched a wintry night on castle walls,