Clarissa Harlowe is the best of them; but it is much too long, and often dull. Clarissa is beset by Lovelace, spirited away, made to quarrel with her family, and outwardly compromised in every possible fashion; but through it all she maintains her maiden purity, and finally compels the man to marry her. We would like her better if she were a little more human and spontaneous--in short, if she had been a little more of a sinner. But there is one novel of that day and time which is first rate reading even to-day, and that is Henry Fielding’s Tom Jones. Fielding was a rake and a joker. He started as a novelist by making fun of the good Richardson. But his characters are certainly natural, even if a little spicy. Tom came into the world in an irregular way, and led a very irregular life. He is by no means a model for the young, and Fielding tells of his sins in a way that to-day would be considered positively indecent. And yet we cannot help liking Tom, and he comes out all right at the end. Sophia Western forgives him for his faults, and loves and marries him. Old Squire Western is one of the most famous characters in the book, and a mixture of shrewdness, drollery, roughness and good-heartedness he certainly is. Other books of this period which have been often spoken of are Smollett’s Roderick Random, Peregrine Pickle, and Humphrey Clinker, and Stern’s Tristram Shandy; but they are a little tedious to the modern reader, and like Richardson’s novels must probably be left on the library shelves. The last of the good novels of this period is Goldsmith’s Vicar of Wakefield. The perfect simplicity of this story is its eternal recommendation. The Vicar is a simple-minded man, and somebody is always “doing him” or his simple son or his vain wife and daughters. We cannot help liking the old man for his unquenchable cheerfulness under all misfortunes, and the women, though old-fashioned, are not yet out of date in their feminine weaknesses. It is the very shortest of old-time novels. Some may not like so very simple a story, but if one has a sense of sly humour, the Vicar will be found good reading. There is also a French novel of this period which deserves to be read much more than it is. It is hard to tell just why it has somehow fallen into obscurity, unless it is the fact that it is French, and as unlike any other French novel as possible. It is Le Sage’s Gil Blas, and the scene is Spain. Gil is not unlike Tom Jones, though more of a wanderer, and goes from one adventure to another. Though some of his experiences are risqué, not one of them is offensive or even approaching indecency. The most innocent person will not be offended by anything in Gil Blas, for evidently Le Sage was a pure-minded man. The adventures are both exciting and amusing; and there is a fine string of them.