t moment, we remove the prejudicial effects of
fiction, and just as we have taught them to use a knife, without cutting
their fingers, we teach them to make use of fiction without perverting
it to their prejudice. What philosopher was ever hurt by reading the
novels of Crebillon, or seeing the comedies of Moliere? You understand
me, then, Monsieur de G., I do, it is true, think that polite literature
(as it is termed,) is prejudicial to the superficial, but for that
reason, I would not do away with the literature, I would do away with
the superficial."

"I deny," said M. D'A--, "that this is so easy a task--you cannot make
all men wise."

"No," replied Vincent; "but you can all children, at least to a certain
extent. Since you cannot deny the prodigious effects of education, you
must allow that they will, at least, give common sense; for it they
cannot do this, they can do nothing. Now common sense is all that is
necessary to distinguish what is good and evil, whether it be in life
or in books: but then your education must not be that of public teaching
and private fooling; you must not counteract the effects of common sense
by instilling prejudice, or encouraging weakness; your education may
not be carried to the utmost goal: but as far as it does go you must see
that the road is clear. Now, for instance, with regard to fiction, you
must not first, as is done in all modern education, admit the disease,
and then dose with warm water to expel it; you must not put fiction into
your child's hands, and not give him a single principle to guide his
judgment respecting it, till his mind has got wedded to the poison, and
too weak, by its long use, to digest the antidote. No; first fortify his
intellect by reason, and you may then please his fancy by fiction. Do
not excite his imagination with love and glory, till you can instruct
his judgment as to what love and glory are. Teach him, in short, to
reflect, before you permit him full indulgence to imagine."

Here there was a pause. Monsieur D'A--looked very ill-pleased, and poor
Monsieur de G--thought that somehow or other his romance writing was
called into question. In order to soothe them, I introduced some subject
which permitted a little national flattery; the conversation then turned
insensibly on the character of the French people.

"Never," said Vincent, "has there been a character more often
described--never one less understood. You have been termed superficial.
I th