best productions, a woman, who may add materially to his happiness. His first journey is to London, where, in the midst of the gay society of the metropolis, of course, he does not find a wife; and his next journey is to the family of Mr. Stanley, the head of the Methodists, where, of course, he does find a wife. The exaltation, therefore of what the authoress deems to be the religious, and tlle depreciation of what she considers to be the worldly character, and the influence of both upon matrimonial happiness, form the subject of this novel-rather of this dramatic sermon. The machinery upon which the discourse is suspended is of the slightest, and most inartificial character, bearing every mark of haste, and possessing not the slightest claim to merit. Events there are none; and scarcely a character of any interest. The book is intended to Convey religious advice; and no more labour appears to have been bestowed upon the story than was merely sufficient to throw it out of the dry, didactic form. Lucilla is totally uninteresting; so is Mr. Stanley; Dr. Barlow still worse, and Cælebs a mere clod, or dolt. Sir John and Lady Belfield are rather more interesting, and for a very obvious reason, they have some faults, they put us in mind of men and women; they seem to belong to one common nature with ourselves. As we read we seem to think we might act as such people act, and therefore we attend; whereas imitation is hopeless in the more perfect characters which Miss More has set before us; and, therefore they inspire us with very little interest. There are books, however, of all kinds; and those may not be unwisely planned which set before us very pure models. They are less probable, and therefore less amusing than ordinary stories, but they are more amusing than plain unfabled precept. Sir Charles Grandison is less agreeable than Tom Jones; but it is more agreeable than Sherlock and Tillotson, and teaches morality and religion to many who would not seek it in these professional writers. But making every allowance for the difficulty of the task which Miss More has prescribed to herself, the book abounds with marks of negligence and want of skill; with representations of life and manners, which are either false or trite. Temples to friendship and virtue must be totally laid aside, for many years to come, in novels. Mr. Lane, of the Minerva Press, has given them up long since; and we were quite surprised to find such a writer as Miss More buried in moral brick and mortar. Such an idea at first was merely juvenile; the second time a little nauseous, but the ten thousandth time it is quite intolerable. Cælebs, upon his first arrival in London, dines out, meets with a bad dinner, supposes the VOL. II. I i cause of that bad dinner to be the erudition of the ladies of the house, talks to them upon learned subjects, and finds them as dull and ignorant as if they had piqued themselves upon all the mysteries of housewifery. We humbly submit to Miss More, that this is not humorous, but strained and unnatural. Philippics against frugivorous children after dinnner are too. common. Lady Milbury has been introduced into every novel for these four years last past. Peace to her ashes! The characters in this novel, which evince the greatest skill, are unquestionably those of Mrs. Ranby and her daughters. There are some scenes in this part of the book extremely well painted, and which evince that Miss More could amuse, in no common degree, if amusement was her object. The great object kept in view throughout the whole, is the enforcement of religious principle, and the condemnation of a life lavished in dissipation and fashionable amusement. In the pursuit of this object, it appears to us that Miss More is much too severe upon the ordinary amusements of mankind, many of which she does not object to in this, or that degree; but altogether. Cælebs and Lucilla, her optimus and optima, never dance, and never go to the play. They not only stay away from the comedies of Congreve and Farquhar, for which they may easily enough be forgiven, but they never go to see Mrs. Siddons in the Gamester and Jane Shore. The finest exhibition of talent, and the most beautiful moral lessons are interdicted at the theatre. There is something in the word Playhouse, which seems so closely connected in the ininds of these people with Sin and Satan, that it stands in their vocabulary for every species of abomination. And yet why? Where is every feeling more roused in favour of virtue, than at a good play? Where is goodness so feelingly, so enthusiastically learnt? What so solemn as to see the excellent passions of the human heart called forth by a great actor, animated by a great poet? To hear Siddons repeat what Shakspeare wrote! To behold the child and his mother, the noble and the poor, the monarch and his subjects, all ages and all ranks convulsed with one common passion, wrung with one common anguish, and with loud sobs and cries doing involuntary homage to the God who made their hearts. What wretched infatuation to interdict such amusements as these. What a blessing that mankind can be allured from sensual gratification and find relaxation and pleasure in such pursuits. But the excellent Mr. Stanley is uniformly paltry and narrow, always trembling at the idea of being entertained, and thinking no Christian safe who is not dull. As to the spectacles of impropriety which are sometimes witnessed in parts of the theatre, such reasons apply in a much stronger degree, to not driving along the Strand, or any of the great public streets of London after dark; and if the virtue of well-educated young persons is made of such It is a very frail materials, their best resource is a nunnery at once. very bad rule, however, never to quit the house for fear of catching cold. Miss More practically extends the same doctrine to cards and assemblies. No cards-because cards are employed in gaming; no assemblies-because many dissipated persons pass their lives in assemblies. Carry this but a little further and we must say, no wine, because of drunkenness; no meat, because of gluttony; no use that there may be no abuse. The fact is, that Mr. Stanley wants not only to be religious, but to be at the head of the religious. These little abstinences are the cockades by which the party are known-the rallying points for the evangelical faction. So natural is the love of power, that it sometimes becomes the influencing motive with the sincere advocates of this blessed religion, whose very characteristic excellence is the humility which it inculcates. We observe that Miss More in one part of her work, falls into the common error about dress. She first blames ladies for exposing their persons in the present style of dress; and then says, if they knew their own interest, if they were aware how much more alluring they were to men, when their charms are less displayed, they would make the desired alteration from motives merely selfish. "Oh! if women in general knew what was their true interest, if they could guess with what a charm even the appearance of modesty invests its possessor, they would dress decorously from mere self-love, if not from principle. The designing would assume modesty as an artifice; the coquet would adopt it as an allurement; the pure, as her appropriate attraction, and the voluptuous as the most infallible art of seduction." If there be any truth in this passage, nudity becomes a virtue; and no decent woman, for the future, can be seen in garments. We have a few more of Miss More's opinions to notice. It is not fair to attack the religion of the times, because, in large and indiscriminate parties, religion does not become the subject of conversation. Conversation must, and ought to grow out of materials on which men can agree, not upon subjects which try the passions. But this good lady wants to see men chatting together upon the Pelagian heresy, to hear, in the afternoon, the theological rumours of the day, and to glean polemical tittle-tattle at a tea-table rout. All the disciples of this school uniformly fall into the same mistake. They are perpetually calling upon their votaries for religious thoughts, and religious conversation in every thing; inviting them to ride, walk, row, wrestle, and dine out religiously; forgetting that the being to whom this impossible purity is recommended, is a being compelled to scramble for his existence and sup port for ten hours out of the sixteen he is awake; forgetting that he must dig, beg, read, think, move, pay, receive, praise, scold, command, and obey; forgetting also that if men conversed as often upon religious subjects as they do upon the ordinary occurrences of the world, that they would converse upon them with the same familiarity and want of respect that religion would then produce feelings not more solemn or exalted than any other topics, which constitute at present the common furniture of human understandings. We are glad to find in these volumes some strong compliments to the efficacy of works, some distinct admissions that it is necessary to be honest and just, before we can be considered as religious. Such sort of conclusions are very gratifying to us, but how will they be received by the children of the Tabernacle. It is quite clear, indeed, throughout the whole of the work, that an apologetical explanation of certain religious principles is intended, and there is a considerable abatement of that tone of insolence with which the improved Christians are apt to treat the bungling specimens of piety to be met with in the more ancient churches. So much for the extravagances of Miss More. With equal sincerity and with greater pleasure we bear testimony to her talents, her good sense, and her real piety. There occurs every now and then in her productions very original and very profound observations. Her advice is very often characterized by the most amiable good sense, and conveyed in the most brilliant and captivating style. If, instead of belonging to a trumpery gospel faction, she had only watched over those great points of religion in which the hearts of every sect of Christians are interested, she would have been one of the most useful and valuable writers of the day. As it is, every man would wish his wife and children to read Calebs; watching himself its effects, and separating the piety from the puerility. ORIGINAL POETRY- -FOR THE PORT FOLIO. THE FORESTERS; A POEM: Descriptive of a Pedestrian Journey to the Falls of Niagara, In the Autumn of 1803. By the Author of American Ornithology. (Continued from page 147.) HERE, in deep glens, we groves of shellbarks found, And down the mountain made them bounding roar |