of the
dead,' is theirs; as long as they can contrive to slumber on, or at
least to keep their eyes shut, 'tis very well, they are in no danger of
stumbling till they come to open them; and if they are sufficiently
stupid themselves there is no danger of their doing even that. The have
only to copy the owl, and they are safe."

"I quite agree with your Ladyship ," said Mrs. Downe Wright, with a well
_got-up,_ good-humoured laugh. "A woman has only not to be a wit or a
genius, and there is no fear of her; not that _I_ have that antipathy to
a clever woman that many people have, and especially the gentlemen. I
almost quarrelled with Mr. Headley, the great author, t'other day, for
saying that he would rather encounter a nest of wasps than a clever
woman."

"I should most cordially have agreed with him," said Lady Emily, with
equal _naivete._ "There is nothing more insupportable than
one of your clever women, so called. They are generally under-bred,
consequently vulgar. They pique themselves upon saying good things
_coitte qu'il coute._ There is something, in short, quite
professional about them; and they wouldn't condescend to chat nonsense
as you and I are doing at this moment--oh! not for worlds! Now, I think
one of the great charms of life consists in talking nonsense. Good
nonsense is an exquisite thing; and 'tis an exquisite thing to be stupid
sometimes, and to say nothing at all. Now, these enjoyments the clever
woman must forego. Clever she is, and clever she must be. Her life must
be a greater drudgery than that of any actress. _She_ merely frets her
hour upon the stage; the curtain dropped, she may become as dull as she
chooses; but the clever woman must always stage it, even at her own
fireside."

"Lady Emily Lindore is certainly the last person from whom I should have
expected to hear a panegyric on stupidity," said Mrs. Downe Wright, with
some bitterness.

"Stupidity!--oh, heavens! my blood curdles at the thought of real,
genuine, downright stupidity! No! I should always like to have the
command of intellect, as well as of money, though my taste, or my
indolence, or my whim, perhaps, never would incline me to be always
sparkling, whether in wit or in diamonds. 'Twas only when I was in the
nursery that I envied the good girl who spoke rubies and pearls. Now it
seems to me only just better than not spitting toads and vipers." And
she warbled a sprightly French _ariette_ to a tame bullfinch that flew
upon h