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or with Dr. Primrose, he could not their universal truth, as reflexes of buman hate the clergy. If novels are not energy and power. It would be enough the deepest teachers of humanity, they for us to prove that the imaginative globave, at least, the widest range. They ries, which are sbed around our being, lend to genius “lighter wings to Aly.” are far brighter than “ the light of comThey are read where Milton and Shaks mon day," which mere vulgar experience speare are only talked of, and where in the course of the world diffuses. But,in even their names are never heard. They truth, that radiance is not merely of the nestle gently beneath the covers of un- fancy, nor are its influences lost when it conscious sopbas, are read by fair and ceases immediately to shine on our path. glistening eyes, in moments snatched It is holy and prophetic. The deep from repose, and beneath counters and joys of childhood-its boundless aspirashop-boards, minister delights “ secret, tions and gorgeous dreams, are the sure sweet, and precious.” It is possible indications of the nobleness of its final that, in particular instances, their effects heritage. All the softenings of evil to may be baneful; but, on the whole, we the moral vision by the gentleness of are persuaded they are good. The fancy, are proofs that evil itself sball world is not in danger of becoming too perish. Our yearnings after ideal beauromantic. The golden threads of poesy iy shew that the home of the soul are not too thickly or too closely inter which feels them, is in a lovelier worid. woven with the ordinary web of exist. And when man describes bigh virtues, ence. Sympathy is the first great les- and instances of nobleness, which rareson which man should learn. It will ly light on earth; so sublime that they be ill for him if he proceeds no further ; expand our imaginations beyond their if his emotions are but excited to roll former compass, yet so intensely human back on his beart : and to be fostered that they make our bearts gush with in luxurious quiet.
But unless he delight; he discovers feelings in his learns to feel tenderly and deeply for owo breast, and awakens sympathies things in which he has no personal in- in ours, which shall assuredly one day terest, he can achieve nothing generous have real and stable objects to rest on! or noble. This lesson is in reality the The early times of England— universal moral of all excellent ro- like those of Spain—were not rich in mances. How mistaken are those mis- chivalrous romances. The imagina erable reasoners who object to them as tion seems to have been chilled by the giving false pictures of life-of purity manners of the Norman conquerors
. too glossy and etherial—of friendship The domestic contests for a disputed too deep and confiding--of love which throne, with their iatrigues, battles, and does not shrink at the approach of ill, executions, have none of that rich, poetbut “ looks on tempests and is never ical interest, which attended the strug. shaken,” because with these the world gles for the holy sepulchre. too rarely blossoms ! Were these things the golden age of English genius, were visionary and unreal, who would break there any very remarkable works of the spell, and bid the delicious enchant- pure fiction. Since that period to the ment vanish? The soul will not be present day, however, there has been a the worse for thinking too well of its rich succession of novels and romances, kind, or believing that the bighest ex- each increasing the stores of innocent cellence is within the reach of its exer- delight, and shedding or human life tions. But these things are not unreal; some new tint of tender colouring. they are shadows, indeed, in themselves, The novels of Richardson are at but they are shadows cast from objects once among the grandest and the most stately, grand, and eternal. Man can singular creations of human genius. never imagine that which has no foun. They combine an accurate acquaiotance dation in his nature. The virtues, he with the freest libertinism, and the conceives, are not the mere pageantry sternest professions of virtue-a sportof his thought. We feel their truth - ing with vicious casuistry, and the deep. not their historic or individual truth, but est horror of free-thinking—the most
stately ideas of paternal authority, and ness his triumph, where she startles the most elaborate display of its abuses, them by her first appearance, as by a Prim and stiff
, almost without paral- vision from above ; and holding the lel, the author perpetually treads on the peokoise to her breast, with her eyes very borders of indecorum, but with a listed to heaven, prepares to die, if her solemn and assured step, as if certain craven destroyer advances, striking the that he could never fall. The pre vilest with the deep awe of goodness, cise, strait-laced Richardson,” says Mr. and walking placidly at last, from the Lamb in one of the profound and beau. circle of her foes, none of them daring tiful notes to his specimens, " has to harm her! How pathetic, above all strengthened vice from the mouth of other pathos in the world, are those Lovelace, with entangling sopbistries, snatches of meditation which she comand abstruse pleas agaiost her adversa- mits to paper, in the first delirium of ry virtue, which Sedley, Villiers, and her woe! How delicately imagined Rochester, wanted depth of libertinism are her preparations, for that grave in sufficient to have invented.” He had, which alone she can find repose ! Cold in fact, the power of making any set of must be the hearts of those who can notions, however fantastical, appear as conceive them as too elaborate, or who “trathis of holy writ,” to bis readers. can venture to criticise them. In this This he did by the authority with novel all appears most real ; we feel which he disposed of all things, and by enveloped, like Don Quixote, by a the infinite minutenes of his details. His thousand threads; and like bim, would gradations are so gentle, that we do not we rather remain so for ever, than break at any one point hesitate to follow him, one of their silken fibres. Clarissa and should descend with him to any Harlowe is one of the few books which depth before we perceived that our path leave us different beings from those had been unequal. By the means of which they find us. “ Sadder and this strange magic, we become anxious wiser" do we arise from its perusal. for the marriage of Pamela with her Yet when we read Fielding's Novels base master; because the author bas so after those of Richardson, we feel as if a imperceptibly wrought on us the belief stupendous pressure were removed from of an awful distance between the rights our souls. We seem suddenly to bave of an esquire and his servant, that our lest a palace of enchantment, where we imaginations regard it in the place of have passed through long galleries filled all moral distinctions. After all, the with the most gorgeous images, and ilgeneral impression made on us by his lumined by a light not quite human not works, is virtuous. Clementina is to yet quite divine, into the fresh air, and the soul a new and majestic image, in- the common ways of this “ bright and spired by virtue and by love, which breathing world.” We travel on the raises and refines its conceptions. She high road of humanity, yet ineet in it has all the depth and intensity of the pleasanter companions, and catch more Italian characier, with all the purity of delicious snatches of refreshment than an angel. She is at the same time the ever we can hope elsewhere to enjoy. grandest of tragic heroines, and the di- The mock heroic of Fielding, when he vinest of religious enthusiasts. Clarissa condescends to that ambiguous style, is alone is above her. Clementina steps scarcely less pleasing than its stately statelily in her very madness, amidst prototype. It is a sort of spirited de" the pride, pomp, and circumstance,” fiance 10 fiction, on the behalf of realiof Italian pobility ; Clarissa is trium- ty, by one who knew full well all the phant, though violated, deserted, and strong holds of that nature which be encompassed by vice and infamy. Nev- was defending. There is not in Fielder can we forget that amazing scene, ing much of that which can properly in which, on the effort of her mean se- be called ideal—if we except the chaducer to renew his outrages, she appears racter of Parson Adams; but his works in all the radiance of mental purity, represent life as more delightful than it among the wretches assembled to wit- seems to common experience, hv dis
closing those of its dear immunities, of high thoughts, pure imaginations, which we little think of, even when we aod manners unspotted by the world. enjoy them. How delicious are all his Smollet seems to bave had more refreshments at all his ions ! How vivid touch of romance than Fielding, but are the transient joys which he depicts not so profound and intuitive a know--how sweet the resting-places of his ledge of humanity's hidden treasures. heroes in their chequered course-how There is nothing in his works comparafull and over-flowing are their final rap. ble to Parson Adams ; but then, on tures ! His Tom Jones is quite unri. the other hand, Fielding has not any valled ia plot, and is to be rivalled only thing of the kind equal to Strap. Parin his own works for felicitous delinea- tridge is dry, and hard, compared with tion of character. The little which we this poor barber-boy, with his generous have told us of Allworthy, especially overflowing of affection. Roderick that which relates to his feelings respect- Random, indeed, with its varied deing his deceased wife, makes us feel for lipeation of life, is almost a romance. him, as for one of the best and most Its bero is worthy of his name. He is revered friends of our childhood. Was the sport of fortune, rolled about thro' ever the “ soul of goodness in things the many ways of wretchedness," alevil” better disclosed, than in the scru- most without resistance, but ever catchples and the dishonesty of Black ing those tastes of joy which are everyGeorge, that tenderest of game-keepers where to be relished by those who are and truest of thieves ? Did ever health, willing to receive them. We seem to good-humour, frank-heartedness, and roll on with him, and get delectably animal spirits hold out so freshly against giddy io his company. vice and fortune as in the hero ?
The humanity of the Vicar of Wakeever so plausible a hypocrite as Blitil, field is less deep even than that of Rodwho buys a Bible of Tom Jones so erick Random, but sweeter tinges of delightfully, and who, by his admirable fancy are cast over it. The sphere in imitation of virtue, leaves it almost in which Goldsmith's powers moved, was doubt, whether, by a counterfeit so dex- never very extensive, but, within it, he terous, he did not merit some share of discovered all that was good, and shed · her rewards ? Who shall gainsay the on it the tenderest lights of his sympa. cherry lips of Sophia Western ? 'The thizing genius. No one ever excelled story of Lady Bellaston we confess to so much as he io depicting amiable folbe a ble:nish. But if there be any vice lies and endearing weaknesses. His left in the work, the fresh atmosphere satire makes us at once smile at, and diffused over all its scenes, will render love all that he so tenderly ridicules. it innoxious. Joseph Andrews has far The good Vicar's trust in Monagomy, Jess merit as a story - but it depicts bis son's purchase of the spectacles, his Parson Adams, whom it does the heart own sale of his horse, to his solemn adgood to think on. He who drew this mirer at the fair; the blameless vanities character, if he had done nothing else, of his daughters, and his resigoation would not have lived in vain. We under bis accumulated sorrows, are fancy we can see him with his torn cas- among the best treasures of memory. sock (in honour of this high profession) The pastoral scenes in this exquisite his volumes of sermons, which we really tale are the sweetest in the world. The wisho had been printed, and his Eschy- scents of the hay-field, and of the blosJus, the best of all the editions of that soming hedge-rows, seem to come freshsublime tragedian ! Whether he longs ly to our senses.
The whole romance after his own serions against vanity is a tenderly-coloured picture, in little, or is absorbed in the romantic tale of of human nature's most genial qualities. the fair Leonora--or uses his or-like De Foe is one of the most extraorfists in defence of the fairer Fanny, he dinary of English authors.
His Robequally embodies in his person is the inson Crusoe is deservedly one of the homely beauty of the good old cause," most popular of novels. It is usually
the first read, and always among the most deep and most benign. There is last forgotten. The interest of its scenes much indeed of eloquent mysticism, but in the uninhabited island is altogether all evideotly most heartfelt and sincere. peculiar ; since there is nothing to de- The yearnings of the soul after univervelope the character but deep solitude. sal good and intimate communion with Man, there, is alone in the world, and the divine nature were never more nocan hold communion only with nature, bly shewn. The author is most prodiand nature's God. There is nearly the gal of his intellectual wealth ;-" his same situation in Philoctetes, that sweet- bounty is as boundless as the sea, bis est of the Greek tragedies ; but there love as deep." He gives to his chief we only see the poor exile as he is about characters riches endless as the spiritual to leave his sad abode, to which he has stores of his own heart. It is, indeed, become attached, even with a child-like only the last which gives value to the cleaving In Robinson Crusoe, life is first in his writings. It is easy to endow stripped of all its social joys, yet we men with millions on paper, and to feel how'worthy of cherishing it is, with make them willing 10 scatter them agothing but silent nature to cheer it. mong the wretched; but it is the cor. Thus are nature and the soul, left with resronding bounty and exuberance of no other solace, represented in their na- the author's soul, which here makes the tive grandeur and intense communion. money sterling, and the charity divine. With how fond an interest do we dwell The hero of this romance always apon all the exertions of our fellow-man, pears to our imagination like a radiant cut off from his kind ; watch his grow- vision encircled with celestial glories. ing plantations as they rise, and seem to The stories introduced in it are delightwater them with our tears! The ex- ful exceptions to the usual rule by which ceeding vividness of all the descriptions such incidental tales are properly reare more delightful when combined with garded as impertinent intrusions. That the loneliness and distance of the scene of David Doubtful is of the most roplaced far amid the melancholy main,' mantic interest, and at the same time in which we become dwellers. We steeped in feeling the most profound. have grown so familiar with the solitude, But' that of Clement and his wife is that the print of man's foot seen in the perbaps the finest. The scene in which sand seems to appal us as an awful they are discovered, having placidly thing !- The Family Instructor of this lain down to die of hunger together, in autbor, in which he inculcates weightily gentle submission to heaven, depicts a his owo notions of puritanical demeanor quiescence the most sublime, yet the and parental authority, is very curious. most affecting. Nothing can be more It is a strange mixture of narrative and delightful than the sweetening ingredidialogue, fanaticism and nature ; but all ents in their cup of sorrow. The hedone with such earnestness, that the roic act of the lady to free herself from sense of its reality never quits us. No. her ravisher's grasp, ber trial and her thing, however, can be more harsh and triumphant acquittal, have a grandeur unpleasing than the impression which it above that of tragedy. The genial spileaves. It does injustice both to religion rit of the author's faith leads him to exand the world. It represents the inno- ult especially in the repentance of the cent pleasures of the latter as deadly wicked. No human writer seems ever sins, and the former as most gloomy, to have hailed the contrite with so coraustere and exclusive. One lady re- dial a welcome.
His scenes appear solves on poisoning her husband, and overspread with a rich atmosphere of another determines to go to the play, tenderness, wbich softens and conseand the author treats both offences with crates all things. a severity nearly equal !
We would not pass over, without a Far different from this ascetic novel is tribute of gratitude, Mrs. Radcliffe's that best of religious romances the Fool wild and wondrous tales. When we of Quality. The piety there is at once read them, the world seems shut outa
and we breathe only in an enchanted chamber, and when his trembling lisregion, where lovers' lutes tremble over tener expects only a requisition for deplacid waters, mouldering castles rise livering her into his hands replies to the conscious of deeds of blood, and the question of “then-to-night my Lord!" sad voices of the past echo through “Adelaide dies"-or the allusions to deep vaults and lonely galleries. There the dark veil in the Mysteries of Udolis always majesty in her terrors. She pho--or the stupendous scenes in Spal
produces more effect by whispers and atro's cottage ? . Of all romance writers - slender hints than ever was attained by Mrs. Radcliffe is the most romantic.
the most vivid display of borrors. Her The present age has produced a sinconclusions are tame and impotent al- gular number of authors of delightful most without example. But while prose fiction, on whom we intend to her spells actually operate, her power give a series of criticisms. We shall is truly magical.' Who can ever forget next month begio with MACKENZIE, the scene in the Romance of the For- whom we shall endeavour to compare est where the marquis, who has long with Sterne ; and for this reason we sought to make the heroine the victim bave passed over the works of the latter of licentious love, after working on ler in our present cursory view of the norprotector, over whom he has a mysteri- elists of other days.
T. D. cus influence, to steal at night into her
From the New Monthly Magazine.
VHUS it was, that the coffers of the that the returo of such horrors would
holy office became so well filled, and be impossible ; but this is far from beits landed possessions increased to such ing the case, the public opinion of the a degree, that it was necessary to estab- inquisition was the same in those days lish laws for their administration, and as now. Nothing was left untried by create a variety of new officers, such as the Cortes to prevent its establishment; stewards, overseers, registers, &c. The their remonstrances produced no effect, bishops and nobles had complained of and violent insurrections consequently their being obliged to provide for the broke out in every country under the salaries of the inquisitors, and to pay Spanish doreinion. The Sicilians inthe expences of their journies; but ow- dignantly drove the inquisitors from ing to the confiscations and absolutions, their land. Naples refused to receive the Inquisition was henceforth enabled them, and was preserved by Goosalvo to make ample provision for its own de Cordova, surnamed the Great Capservants. The popes thought they tain, from falling into their hands. The might award some little relief to the Arragonese, less fortunate, revolted; children of those who had been con- the inquisitor was massacred in the demned after their death, but the holy church of Saragossa, Two hundred office refused to pay a single order of individuals perished in expiation of this the Pontiff's until all the arrears due to murder. Another revolt took place at its own agents were discharged; the Cordova, at the termination of which a list of these was immense. The inquis- commission, named by the Pope, and itors had a guard, and travelled with a at which the grand inquisitor presided, numerous suite. The grand inquisitor was charged to examine into the conwas always followed by fifty archers on duct of the inquisitor of that city. It horseback and two hundred on foot. was soon ascertained that he had immo
It will, perhaps, be thought, that lated a great number of innocent persuch a state of things could only exist sons; and the only punishment inby means of the ignorance and fanati- flicted was that of baoishing him to his ism which infatuated the people, and bishopric. All these events passed un