young women,
whose simplicity was destitute of elegance, and others in whom a too
elaborate polish had nearly effaced their native graces: Lucilla
appeared to unite the simplicity of nature to the refinement of good
breeding. It was thus she struck me at first sight. I forbore to form a
decided opinion till I had leisure to observe whether her mind fulfilled
all that her looks promised.

Lucilla Stanley is rather perfectly elegant than perfectly beautiful. I
have seen women as striking, but I never saw one so interesting. Her
beauty is countenance: it is the stamp of mind intelligibly printed on
the face. It is not so much the symmetry of features as the joint
triumph of intellect and sweet temper. A fine old poet has well
described her:

Her pure and eloquent blood
Spoke in her cheeks and so distinctly wrought.
That one could almost say her body thought.

Her conversation, like her countenance, is compounded of liveliness,
sensibility, and delicacy. She does not say things to be quoted, but the
effect of her conversation is that it leaves an impression of pleasure
on the mind, and a love of goodness on the heart. She enlivens without
dazzling, and entertains without overpowering. Contented to please, she
has no ambition to shine. There is nothing like effort in her
expression, or vanity in her manner. She has rather a playful gayety
than a pointed wit. Of repartee she has little, and dislikes it in
others; yet I have seldom met with a truer taste for inoffensive wit.
This is indeed the predominating quality of her mind; and she may rather
be said to be a nice judge of the genius of others than to be a genius
herself. She has a quick perception of whatever is beautiful or
defective in composition or in character. The same true taste pervades
her writing, her conversation, her dress, her domestic arrangements, and
her gardening, for which last she has both a passion and a talent.
Though she has a correct ear, she neither sings nor plays; and her
taste is so exact in drawing, that she really seems to have _le compass
dans l'[oe]uil_; yet I never saw a pencil in her fingers, except to
sketch a seat or a bower for the pleasure-grounds. Her notions are too
just to allow her to be satisfied with mediocrity in any thing, and for
perfection in many things, she thinks that life is too short, and its
duties too various and important. Having five younger sisters to assist,
has induced her to neglect s