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but never, like the heartless sarcasm of malevolence,—the forked lighting of the thunder storm,—never does it strike at the individuals whom those clouds may happen to overshadow.
Miss Landon's own nature was too kindly, too generous, ever to inflict pain by the indulgence of personal ridicule. Things, not persons; qualities, not their possessors; characters, not individuals, were the objects of her witty animadversions. Hers was that graceful and well-applied wit which often, when other methods have failed of effect, reveals in its true light what were best avoided.
Then, too, the deeper tones of her genius, when contrasting the little and low vanities of worldliness with the lofty aims, the noble impulses, the generous deeds, the onlooking and upward aspirations for something brighter and better than earth even in its plenitude of good can supply, are fraught with lessons of true wisdom and moral worth.
Those who did not know L. E. L. may form an idea of the spirit and style of her conversational powers, and of her rapid transitions from "grave to gay, from lively to severe," from her prose works; while, in the same works, her personal friends may recal her living presence, and almost hear her voice, now in its sweet, low, plaintive tones, and anon in its mirthful utterance of gay witticisms. On these pages are still reflected the sparkling mirth and the eloquent sadness which glanced alternately around you from her conversation, like sunlight and shadows chasing each other over the summer landscape.
