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Smollett, of the ingenious Mr.
Henry Fielding, of the graceful and fantastic Monsieur Crebillon the younger, whom our immortal poet Gray so much admired, and of the universal Monsieur de Voltaire.
Once, when Mr.
Crawley asked what the young people were reading, the governess replied "Smollett." "Oh, Smollett," said Mr.
Crawley, quite satisfied.
His history is more dull, but by no means so dangerous as that of Mr.
Hume. It is history you are reading?" "Yes," said Miss Rose; without, however, adding that it was the history of Mr.
Humphrey Clinker.
On another occasion he was rather scandalised at finding his sister with a book of French plays; but as the governess remarked that it was for the purpose of acquiring the French idiom in conversation, he was fain to be content.
Mr. Crawley, as a diplomatist, was exceedingly proud of his own skill in speaking the French language (for he was of the world still), and not a little pleased with the compliments which the governess continually paid him upon his proficiency.
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