ART. III. — 1. The Hour and the Man. An Historical Romance. By HARRIET MARTINEAU. 2 vols. 12mo. Harper & Brothers. New York: 1841.

2. The Settlers at Home. By HARRIET MARTINEAU. 1 vol. 18mo. D. Appleton & Co. New York: 1841.

3. The Peasant and the Prince. By HARRIET Martineau. 1 vol. 18mo. D. Appleton & Co. New York: 1841. 4. Norway and the Norwegians; or, Feats of the Fiord. By HARRIET MARTINEAU. 1 vol. 18mo. D. Appleton & Co. New York: 1842.

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WE doubt if a single person could be found, well acquainted with Miss Martineau and her books, who does not feel, that she has received little justice, as a writer or a woman. That the greatest injustice was done her in this country, after the greatest adulation, because she ventured to criticise our perfect institutions, and remark upon the doubtful habits of some of our people, that her chief sins were those of an abolitionist, a free speaker, a hasty observer, and sometimes pertinacious judge, liberal in religion, and radical in politics, and withal a foreigner and a female, furnish a good reason, if any were wanted, for giving her a calm hearing, now that the excitement has passed, and readers can take up her books without the fear of being laughed at, and editors do not feel compelled by policy to abuse one, of whom they know nothing. We have no thought of becoming panegyrists of this lady, or defenders at all points of assault. We have nothing to do with her peculiar opinions, we are not insensible of her peculiar dangers, nor are we anxious for her fame, knowing that it will take care of itself in due time. But we have absolute confidence in the superiority of her mind, the goodness of her heart, the warmth of her piety, her high moral courage, and the steadfastness of a faith, which has borne her tranquilly through years of suffering, and still keeps her cheerful and diligent, in the view of a surely, if not a rapidly, approaching death. We will render her our honest tribute. In these pages, where a notice of her later writings has been too long delayed, we will show at the least, however briefly or imperfectly, that it has been from no want of interest, respect, or gratitude.

We feel grateful to any one, whatever the individual opinions, whatever the occasional errors of judgment, who

writes in a way to interest and entertain, without violating moral sentiment, or rather, with such a clear moral tone pervading the whole, as to leave the most healthy impression. A spirit of the purest morality, of nice and just discrimination, of generous sympathy in all that is human, with fearless independence of thought and expression, seem to us the characteristics of Miss Martineau's mind and heart, as seen in her writings and acting through her life. And these are not common characteristics. They are not to be passed by with a sneer, because they may be tinged with some peculiarities of form or feelings. They are not to remain unnoticed and silently condemned, because rendered unpopular by certain heresies of a social or philosophical creed. A writer or speaker, male or female, forfeits no claim to our justice or generosity, on account of extravagant opinions, or bold assertions as to the rights of women, the sufferings of the slave, our institutions of government, or administration of religion. We have as little sympathy as any, with most of the modes and measures of modern fanaticism, and the ruthless radicalism of the day. But never will we suffer even those to rob us of common discrimination and common justice, or cause us to withhold our feeble testimony from any portion of intrinsic excellence, unquestionable truth, merited reproof, wholesome counsel, or resolute and disinterested adherence to an offensive opinion, or an unpopular cause. We burn with shame and indignation, when we see a pure and noble-minded woman, firm in Christian faith, and unfaltering in the Christian life, treated with the greatest inconsistency and neglect, while a licentious outcast, an open offender against the first laws of God and man, a vile seducer, and unblushing adulterer, is welcomed, followed, rewarded, defended, by men and women, by religious professors, and moral editors, and Christian patterns. It will be a sad chapter in our history, if the fact be established, that the surest way for a foreigner or native to obtain favor among us, as a writer or lecturer, whatever his moral character, is to offend no national vanity, no orthodox creed of religion or philosophy, no present interest of individuals or States. We have no confidence in the morality of policy, or of mere decency, but we have great confidence in the morality of the Gospel. We do not believe that any principle which is destitute of faith and comes short of piety, will purchase salvation in this life or another. But as little do we believe, that any liberality or orthodoxy, which

confounds moral distinctions and screens moral offences, which swerves from the highest principles of right, or is false to the best dictates of humanity, and those only enduring interests, which belong to character, will save any one here or hereafter.

The morality inculcated in the writings of Miss Martineau is of the soundest kind. It does not confine itself to the outward man, or the estimate of the world; but goes into the recesses of the heart, the control of the temper, the kindly offices of private life, and the character of that truest of schools, love. We could find illustrations of this, in one of her larger books, written earlier than those named at the head of this article. We mean DEERBROOK. It is among the singular fortunes of books, that this has been so little read or valued. Yet it has been gratifying to find, how well it is appreciated by the more intelligent and discriminating readers. It is indeed no book for the mere lovers of fiction and excitement. It has little of plot or passion or highly wrought scene. It is diffuse to a fault, and its best characters and descriptions are wound round with those petty details of everyday life, which to many are little better than gossip. Yet it is this everyday life, after all, that tests the man and shows the man. Most skilfully is it managed here. Few books within our knowledge give a better picture of some of the greatest weaknesses, and some of the noblest virtues of human nature; while in the delineation of female excellence, we know not its equal.

Of the three smaller tales, named above, the last that have been received from the author, little need be said. They are well suited to their place and object. Without ambition, and partly, we are told, for an honorable support, Miss Martineau is contributing to this excellent series, published under the title of "Tales for the People and their Children." She has given to these before us a great variety of scene, and a moving interest. Settlers at Home finds its subject in England, and is an unusual, some may think, an unnatural picture of the cruel hostility of neighbors, and the perseverance of children in overcoming evil with good; while it has many touches of true and beautiful pathos. The Peasant and Prince goes to France for its materials, and gives a simple, well drawn narrative of the eventful reign, the weak follies, the singular flight, and the mournful death of Louis XVI., in a way to convey the best moral lessons, and at the same time, engage common and

youthful minds in the great study of history and men.

Nor

way and the Norwegians, taking us to a far different scene, and a people, the most opposite to those presented in either of the former tales, introduces us to a region, customs, superstitions, modes of life, and manifestations of character, full of interest from their novelty, and having other charms beside. We have seldom seen simplicity of heart and a natural faith more pleasantly delineated. We confess a deep interest in reading these stories, juvenile as they are; and an interest not destitute of instruction, or profit. There is that wonderful variety, yet distinctness of character, that simple thought, directness, and childlike truthfulness, that appeared in the "Illustrations of Political Economy," which were received and read with so much pleasure, at least, as stories, before the writer became suspicious on other accounts. When shall we learn to exercise the same charity and use the same discrimination, in regard to social and political differences, that we are accustomed to exercise, or to demand, for the endless diversity of religious opinions and prejudice?

The Hour and the Man, of which we propose to speak at some length, may be thought to stand even more in need of charity, than anything which has come from the writer. That it betrays the bias of strong prepossessions, few will deny. Miss Martineau is not used to weigh cautiously every word, where she is sure of the truth, or fact. She does not seem even to give a single thought to what others may think of that, which she is speaking, or writing. This is not the way to be popular; and we see the consequence. It is not the best way to save ourselves from haste in judgment, or our readers from error of conclusion; and they have not been saved in the present instance. We say this, however, of some of the author's former writings, rather than the latter. "The Hour and the Man" is in some views the most important work she has published, and to our minds one of the most true and valuable. Its interest is intense; the combined interest of history and fiction. Nor can we find that the history is spoiled by the fiction. It is difficult, to be sure, it always has been, perhaps always will be difficult, to get at the exact truth of the revolutionary story of St. Domingo, with which this work is exclusively occupied. The first accounts of that revolution came from the French, of all people the least capable, especially in this connexion, of being impartial. These accounts, too, were received, extended, VOL. XXXII. - 3D. S. VOL XIV. NO. II.

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and transmitted, by men involved in the revolution at home, steeped in the politics, wild with the philosophy, maddened by the passions and horrors of those worst days of France. Were these the men or the times for a calm history of one of Napoleon's wild and disastrous schemes, or a dispassionate account of the MAN, regarded, say many, as a rival, whose peaceful home he wantonly invaded, whose confiding people he estranged or made miserable, whose sacred person he basely entrapped, imprisoned, and buried from his family and the world forever?

This is the eventful chapter in the world's conflicts, which Miss Martineau has written, as an "Historical Romance." And if she has thrown around the leading events and characters a drapery, which seems indeed romantic; if she has found it difficult, and sometimes failed to glean the truths from the many partial and discordant narratives; if her previous bias inclined her to some exaggeration of the greatness or goodness of her hero and his friends; if, moreover, an English mind may be supposed to see the worst of French atrocities; we can pardon it without taxing our justice in the least, or taking credit for charity. In truth, the best examination, we have been able to make of other authorities, brings us to the conclusion, that this sketch, in all that is essential, is accurate; though we by no means pretend to such a thorough knowledge of the subject, as would enable us to assert it confidently.

The chief doubt pertains to the character of the Hero of the tale, TOUSSAINT. This was confessedly one of the remarkable men of the world. And such were his fortunes, that if, in any case, the historian or the biographer may be allowed a generous sympathy, approaching extravagance, and pressing truth seemingly into romance, it is here. We supposed on the first reading of the book, that this view must be extravagant, and the whole picture colored with the romantic. But for this opinion we do not find support. The view is not new. More than twenty years ago there appeared an able article in the London Quarterly Review,* containing statements, which fully authorize the views here given, and seem to have been drawn from the best sources, as Miss Martineau shows in an Appendix to the Hour and the Man. Of this book itself we shall give the best idea, and make perhaps the best

* No. XLII.