by a profusion of powder. He was
dressed with evident care and precision; a snuff-coloured coat was
adorned with a respectable profusion of gold lace; his breeches were of
plum-coloured satin; his salmon-coloured stockings, scrupulously drawn
up, displayed a very handsome calf; and a pair of steel buckles in his
high-heeled and 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, indocti voluptatem.' A happy sentence that in Quinctilian,
Sir, is it not? But, bless me, I am forgetting the letter of my good
friend Dr. Hebraist. The charms of your conversation carry me away. And
indeed I have seldom the happiness to meet a gentleman so well-informed
as yourself. I confess, Sir, I confess that I s