acute, and discriminating, how greatly was the pleasure of reading enhanced, when she perused the same page; never was there a more kind or generous critic, one who so instantaneously detected the beauties of a work, and so thoroughly enjoyed them. The warm and graceful homage which she paid to talent of every kind, the delight which she took in the literary triumphs of her contemporaries, and the encouragement which she gave to those who required it, were as unaffected as they were amiable. She had no exclusive tastes, every department of literature affording gratification to a mind which delighted as much in the flowers beneath her feet, as in the stars that made the heaven above her glorious.
L. E. L. possessed a keen relish for the ridiculous, and frequently amused herself by putting grave things in a ludicrous point of view; but there was nothing ill-natured or unkind in her satire, all her errors in that way being those of thoughtlessness. It would be difficult to name her favourite authors, there were so many to which she recurred with never-ceasing delight. Few things pleased her better than to get hold of some old by-gone work, which had not been part or parcel of her juvenile studies. Well do I remember our sending
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