Review.-A New-England Tale.

A NEW-ENGLAND TALE.

REVIEW.

Second edition.

359

New-York: E. Bliss & E. White. 1822. 12mo. pp. 285.

OUR readers have very much mistaken our character and feelings, if they have supposed us indifferent as to the number and quality of novels, which have of late been so constantly issuing from the American press. Even if we were not allowed to possess a sufficiency of talent and taste to be interested in the world of fiction, which seems emphatically to distinguish our day as an era of novels, yet we trust our hearts and sensibilities are not so deadened on the subject of religion, as to permit us coldly to view the shelves of every bookseller bending under a load of Romance, without ever inquiring what is to be the effect on the Church of God.

The imagination of Walter Scott, or whoever may be the author of the Waverly Novels, has rendered this kind of reading so popular, that we have almost feared to make any remarks on the subject, lest humble prose and simple truth would find no readers. We have, indeed, often compared the drudgery of our own little magazine with the comparative light task of the novel writer; and so little were the results of the comparison in our favour, that had we thought our talents and disposition befitting, perhaps ere this we should have forsaken this dull road, and produced a novel ourselves. We think the novel writer must be one of the richest men living, for his materials are inexhaustible. Some have wondered how so many ponderous volumes could be so quickly produced by one writer; but for ourselves we think the problem very easily solved. Such a writer can sit in his elbow chair, and soon call around himself an ideal world, where golden harvests may at once be reaped from fields sowed only by fancy. This lower world, the planets, the stars, and even fate and destiny are completely under his control. The Indies pour out their riches, and Potosi its treasures; the moon shines at one moment, and is shrouded in clouds the next; the storms howl, the ocean heaves, mountains and forests spring into existence, years fly in the space of seconds, and even death ever stands at his elbow, ready to execute his errands, in any form or shape, against all the barriers of improbabilities, or impossibilities. Who, with materials so ample, could not produce something in the shape of a book? and who that considers all these facilities, will not cease to wonder that tomes of novels are issued almost as fast as newspapers?

We consider every man as accountable for the improvement and influence of his talents. We are not merely so to live that life shall be barely outwardly innocent and inoffensive--not merely to pass through life, enjoying the luxury of being satisfied with ourselves for negative virtues. But we are to cultivate our active faculties for the noble purposes for which Heaven created them. We are to cultivate those faculties which restrain every undue thought and action; and we envy not the persons whose business it is to spread false banquets before their fellow probationers, and to create an appetite only to be

disgusted by realities. And the experience of all who are conversant with fictitious writings, will attest, that such works can and do excite these mala mentis gaudia. They place the character of man in two very different points of view. The one throws around him all the degradation of the brutes, and makes him only a magazine of imperfections. The other exalts him to a participation of the divine character, and gives him the native loveliness of an angel: and it is this wide departure from the realities of this world, and the many false colours displayed, that make these writings so fascinating and ensnaring.

But there is another trait in modern novels which we hasten to notice. It is, that vain endeavour to make them religious. We are sorry that the authors of these works are not content to delude the young as to the prospects of this life, without attempting to guide them to the next through the mazes of fiction. We are sorry that religion, the most sacred of all truth, must be muffled in the cloak of fiction, and made to appear in any dress that a sophisticated fancy and a corrupt heart may suggest. It is for this reason that we have taken up the little volume whose title heads this article.

From the high opinion we had formed of the lady who is the author of this production, we took it up with prepossessions in its favour. Nor would we by any means be willing to say that the writer is destitute of talent; but we were sadly disappointed. In the preface we are told: "If the writer could suppose that any reader of intelligence and candour could consider this tale as a designed attack upon the character of any class of Christians, such an object would be distinctly disavowed; and, it is confidently believed, might be clearly refuted from the tale itself." Now, whatever may have been the design of the writer, we think it can be made apparent that a certain class of Christians are here attacked,—and attacked too with the most malicious of all weapons-ridicule. We must state our grievances fully, and beg the indulgence of the writer, who seems to be one of those who are liberal even to bigotry. We are so stupid then, as to believe one great object of this story to be, to misrepresent and falsify that portion of Christians who are usually styled orthodox. If, indeed, the writer's pen was not "dipped in gall," it seems to have been under the influence of a heart that would pour out the overflowings of its venom in sarcasms and insinuations. But let the work speak for itself.

Mr. Elton, a country merchant, in the western part of Massachusetts, having lost his property by mismanagement, died insolvent, and his wife soon followed him, leaving a lovely orphan, Jane, of about twelve years of age. She had thus far been educated with delicacy and tenderness, and was ill prepared to buffet the angry storms which awaited her. She followed her mother to the grave with a feeling that seemed to indicate her heart to be enclosed in her parent's coffin. Here we are told, that all the calamities recorded in the succeeding part of this chapter, at least, are to be entirely charged upon a poor clergyman, or rather the clergyman's funeral sermon, delivered at Mrs. Elton's burial. This dreadful catastrophe is thus related:

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"The clergyman of — was one of those who are more zealous for sound doctrine, than benevolent practice: he had chosen on that occasion for his text, The wages of sin is death,' and had preached a long sermon in the vain endeavour of elucidating the doctrine of original sin. Clergymen who lose such opportunities of instructing their people in the operations of providence, and the claims of humanity, ought not to wonder if they grow languid, and selfish, and careless of their most obvious duties. Had this gentleman improved this occasion of illustrating the duty of sympathy, by dwelling on the tenderness of our blessed Lord, when he wept with the bereaved sisters at the grave of Lazarus: had he distilled the essence of those texts, and diffused their gracious influence into his sermon-Bear ye one another's burthens;' Weep with those who weep;' 'Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of these, ye have done it unto me:' had this preaching usually been in conformity to the teaching of our Saviour, could the scene have followed, which it is our business to relate?"-p. 21.

As this clergyman seems to be only "one" of the many who thus carry their terrific doctrines into the grave yard, we should like to know how many such funeral sermons our author has heard? Or, rather, we would ask, if she has not seized upon a very awkward opportunity to ridicule this class of men?

The day after the burial of Jane's mother, three of her aunts met at her father's house, to decide what should be done with the orphan. Our readers will too readily see the point of the following paragraph; and what very keen wit is employed against those objects to which Christendom are turning their attention and efforts; nor do we recollect to have seen a more shameless sneer against the spread of the Gospel of Christ.

"The eldest sister began the conference by saying, 'That she trusted it was not expected she should take Jane upon her hands-that she was not so well off as either of her sisters-that to be sure she had no children; but then Mr Daggett and herself calculated to do a great deal for the Foreign Missionary Society; that no longer ago than that morning, Mr. D. and she had agreed to pay the expense of one of the young Cherokees at the school at ----- -; that there was a great work going on in the world, and as long as they had the heart given them to help it, they could not feel it their duty to withdraw any aid for a mere wordly purpose!"-p. 23.

Mrs. Convers, the second sister, could not take the orphan because all her money was employed in dressing her children. But we now introduce the youngest sister, Mrs. Wilson, who seems to be the very pith of the story; and we much mistake if our readers do not find her pithy.

"Mrs. Wilson continued Sister Convers, I feel it to be my duty to warn you -you, the daughter and granddaughter of worthy divines who abhorred all such sinful practices, that you should own that you send your children to dancing school, astonishes and grieves my spirit. Do you know that Mr. C, in reporting the awakening in his parish, mentions that not one of the girls that attended dancing school were among the converts, whereas two, who had engaged to attend it, but had received a remarkable warning in a dream, were among the first and brightest?'

"I would as soon,' she continued, 'follow one of my children to the grave, as to see her in that broad road to destruction, which leads through a ball room.' ~p. 25.

We would here pause, and inquire what must be the liberality and feelings of a heart that can thus empty its malignity against revivals of religion! We do not complain because our author is not a Calvinist-but we may loudly complain that in the character of Mrs. Wilson,

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she has ascribed opinions and conduct to this class of Christians, which we believe no Calvinist ever believed, or practised. She has made Mrs. Wilson solely from her own brain, and has dressed her up in caricature, in order to ridicule what is usually denominated evangelical religion. As we have more to do with the religious character of the Tale than any other, we proceed to develope it. To the question, whether Jane had experienced religion, our author puts the following reply into the mouth of Mrs. Wilson:

"Experienced religion!-no,' replied Mrs. Wilson. How should she? She has not been to a meeting since her mother was first taken sick; and no longer ago than the day after her mother's death, when I talked to her of her corrupt state by nature, and the opposition of her heart, (for I felt it to be my duty, at this peculiar season, to open to her the great truths of religion, and I was faithful to her soul, and did not scruple to declare the whole counsel,) she looked at me as if she was in a dumb stupor. I told her the judgments of an offended God were made manifest towards her in a remarkable manner; and then I put it to her conscience, whether if she was sure her mother had gone where the worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched, she should be reconciled to the character of God, and be willing herself to promote his glory, by suffering that just condemnation. She did not reply one word, or give the least symptom of a gracious understanding. But when Mrs. Harvey entered, just as I was concluding, and passed her arm around Jane, and said to her, 'My child, God does not willingly grieve nor afflict you,' the child sobbed out, Oh no! Mrs. Harvey, so my mother told me, and I am sure of it.'"-pp. 30, 31.

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It was finally concluded that little Jane should, for the present, go and live with her orthodox aunt Wilson. While Jane was packing up her few things before going from her father's house, she received a note from this aunt, advising her to steal from her father's creditors some spoons, table linen, her mother's ivory work box," &c. &c. Such of our readers as wish to know how Mrs. Wilson came to be so bad a woman, are informed, that in addition to her creed, she had been a hypocrite most of her life.

"Mrs. Wilson had fancied herself one of the subjects of an awakening at an early period of her life; had passed through the ordeal of a church examination with great credit, having depicted in glowing colours the opposition of her natural heart to the decrees, and her subsequent joy in the doctrine of election. She thus assumed the form of godliness without feeling its power. We fear that in those times of excitement, during which many pass from indifference to holiness, and many are converted from sin to righteousness, there are also many who, like Mrs. Wilson, delude themselves and others with vain forms of words, and professions of faith."-p. 39.

In the family of her aunt, as might be expected, Jane experienced every kind of ill treatment that any being, short of a demon, could offer. A few months after she had entered her aunt's family, a dancing master arrived in the village, and established a dancing school. This event makes considerable stir, and gives our author an opportunity to slander, and sneer at, the clergy.

"Some clergymen denounced the impending sin from their pulpits. One said that he had searched the Bible from Genesis to Revelation, and he could not find a text that expressly treated of that enormity, but that was manifestly because it was a sin too heinous to be spoken of in holy writ; he said that dancing was one of the most offensive of all the rites of those savage nations that were under the immediate and risible government of the prince of this world; and, finally, he referred them to the church documents, those precious records of the piety, and wisdom, and purity of their ancestors: and they would there find a rule which prohibited any church member from frequenting, or being present at, a ball, or

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dance, or frolic, or any such assembly of Satan; and they would moreover find that such transgressions had been repeatedly punished by expulsion from the church, and exclusion from all Christian ordinances."-pp. 71, 72.

Without being very particular in following the story, we shall notice a few more sentences which treat of religion. We wish our readers to be particular in reading the following quotation.

"Mrs. Wilson was fond of the bold and highly figurative language of the prophets; and often identified herself with the Psalmist, in his exultation over his enemies, in his denunciations, and in his appeals for vengeance.

"We leave to theologians to decide, whether these expressions from the king of Israel are meant for the enemies of the church, or whether they are to be imputed to the dim light which the best enjoyed under the Jewish dispensation. At any rate, such as come to us in so 'questionable a shape,' ought not to be employed as the medium of a Christian's prayer."-p. 167.

We should like to inquire if our author dare take it upon herself to say that any of the Bible is not inspired by the Holy Ghost, or is the revelation of heaven in so "questionable a shape," that she can decide against only certain parts of it? Or does she mean the above paragraph to intimate that her creed is but little different from that of the boldest infidel? The following quotation will give a fair specimen of the feminine tenderness, with which our author treats those who differ from her in sentiment.

"And I wonder you can have the heart to ask,' replied Mrs. Wilson, sobbing with passion, not grief; 'you have no feeling; you never had any for my afflictions. It is but two months, yesterday, since Martha died, and I have no reason to hope for her. She died without repentance.'

"Ha!' replied David, 'Elvira told me, that she confessed, to her husband, her abuse of his children, her love of the bottle, (which, by the by, every body knew before,) and a parcel of stuff that, for our sakes, I think she might have kept to herself.'

"Yes, yes, she did die in a terrible uproar of mind about some things of that kind; but she had no feeling of her lost state by nature.'

"Oh, the devil!' grumbled the hopeful son and brother; if I had nothing to worry my conscience but my state by nature, I might get one good night's sleep, instead of lying from night till morning like a toad under a harrow.'

"This comment was either unheard or unheeded by the mother, and she went on: 'David, your extravagance is more than I can bear. I have been wonderfully supported under my other trials. If my children, though they are my flesh and blood, are not elected, the Lord is justified in their destruction, and I am still. I have done my duty, and I know not "why tarry his chariot wheels."' "It is an easy thing, ma'am,' said David, interrupting his mother, 'to be reconciled to everlasting destruction; but if your mind is not equally resigned to the temporal ruin of a child, you must lend me the money.' "-pp. 132, 133. Will any candid person pretend that such opinions were ever entertained by orthodox Christians, and will the writer believe that such representations can gain her friends, or the cause of truth proselytes?

In consequence of such a mother, one of Mrs. Wilson's sons commits highway robbery, and even be, from the walls of his prison, pours out his curses against the orthodox creed as being the sole agent of his destruction. It is part of his letter to his mother:

"Mother, mother! oh, that I must call you so!--as I do it, I howl a curse with every breath-you have destroyed me. You it was that taught me, when I scarcely knew my right hand from my left, that there was no difference between doing right and doing wrong, in the sight of the God you worship; you taught me that I conld do nothing acceptable to him. If you taught me truly, I have only acted out the nature totally depraved, (your own words,) that he gave to me and I am not to blame for it. I could do nothing to save my own soul; and according to your own doctrine, I stand now a better chance than my moral cousin,