in the teeth of the evidence. Were we disposed to settle the question by an a priori discussion, we think it would not be difficult to produce such conclusive reasons why all novels of this species must, from their very nature, be failures, as would render all inspection in detail unnecessary; and before we close this article, we may perhaps enter into a discussion of that point but it is as well to proceed methodically; and prove the existence of the fact, before we proceed to account for it. Thus far, however, we must premise, by way of stating the question fairly between these ignoble bookmakers and their noble imitators, that if there were anything in the mere manners or other characteristics of any class, from which a good novel might be manufactured, it is certainly not from the members of it themselves that it could be looked for. If this assertion appear paradoxical to any one at first sight, we are sure that it is only at first sight it can do so. Surely common sense might teach us that it would be idle to expect any clear portrait of their own peculiarities, from those, to whom, being natural, they cannot appear peculiar. We meet, indeed, with an ingenious gentleman in Mrs. Gore's novels, who treats us with a choice metaphor as a solution of the failure of the plebeian novelists. It is to the effect that objects are necessarily distorted to the vision of those who view them from a distance. It would be too unreasonable to request so illustrious a logician, before he again ventures upon an optical illustration, to condescend to form some slight acquaintance with the principles of the science; but we would suggest to him, that if he will first look at his own nose, and then at his neighbour's, he may, by observing which view is the most distorted, form a practical though unlearned idea of the exquisite aptness of his imagery. We shall not be suspected of any intention to protest against the wellearned sentence of damnation which the public has at length passed upon the "lackey school," (as the Westminster school so aptly denominated the authors of "Almacks," "Vivian Grey," "The Exclusives," &c.) but we confess that we are not exactly disposed to see them thus made the scapegoats for the more exalted members of this disreputable gang. We have no idea of seeing one set of rogues hanged, merely to improve the trade of another; and if, in spite of us, the temple of Apollo must be turned into a den of thieves, we will, at all events, do our best to maintain 'cutter's law,' amongst them, and see a fair scramble. We have, accordingly, selected for examination two of the most illustrious of the band, and when we add, that during our scrutiny we shall keep their rank carefully out of consideration, we apprehend that it is not they who will have any right to complain. If the owner of the cattle upon a thousand hills were to be caught sheep-stealing, surely nothing short of insanity could induce him to produce his rent-roll in mitigation of judgment; and when a nobleman turns devil-author he should, during his sojourn in Grub-street, be anxious on his own account, to preserve his incognito strictly. The authors we are about to examine, are the Earl of Mulgrave and the Hon. Mrs. Gore-both of them names so unexceptionable, that if a good name could make a good novel, nothing more need be desired. Lord Mulgrave we have taken simply on account of his rank; and as it will not be necessary to waste much time upon him, we shall deal with him first. For meddling with Mrs. Gore we have additional reasons. The first is her sex-an admission which, we fear, will bring us little credit;-at least with that cockneyfied class, whose gallantry is of that precise cast which never contradicts a lady.' We confess, however, that we are not fond of blue stockings. "Genius is of no sex" certainly, as Madame de Stäel remarked, but it is decidedly masculine, or at all events unfeminine in its attributes. We willingly admit, indeed, that a rule which would rid us of every basbleu at once, at the price of her exclusion, would be rather too expensive to enforce; but so long as there are extant such pages as Mrs. Gore's to evince how very little 'genius' is requisite to unsex a woman, we shall content ourselves with retorting the charge of a want of gallantry upon those who think that the character of a mere woman can ever be exchanged with advantage for that of a mere scribbler. In the next place-although we cannot pretend to any thing like strength of lungs sufficient to meet the expenditure of yawns, requisite to enable us to keep pace with the various competitors in this pell-mell race tcwards the goal of absurdity—a though our view may be in e W intrepid swearer) who would venture nihil a me alienum puto ;—but are we to insinuate that anything more utterly to be interested in a mere symbol of senseless is, we do not say producible rank or picture of wealth-in the in actual existence, but even conceivable fluctuations of a visionary cabinet or in a dream? Were we to see men, the vicissitudes of an imaginary purse ? women, or even children (out of the —to be willing to sympathize (ať the nursery) take a dozen wax puppets, expense of a guinea and a half) with call one Lord this, another Lady that, the puppet-like actions of a fool or a a third the Hon. Mr. Somebody, and coxcomb, because, forsooth ! he is rea fourth Col. Somebody else, &c. &c.- presented as a Lord or a Squire ? knock their heads together, and call "A Lord and a Squire ! exclaimed the that quarrelling-set them all jogging, indignant Vicar of Wakefield_two by way of illustrating a dance-and shillings for a Lord and a Squire ! find sundry other ingenious pantomimic why, I could have promised you a representations of the various incidents prince and a nabob for half the money! in real life, which these pages profess What would he have said to a guinea, to depict—were we to see those unfor- and a half ? Really, making every tunate people whom we have here allowance for the alteration of the supposed, not content with indulging times, we think such a price rather in such an amusement in their private higher than we could have been led to chamber (after baving carefully drawn expect from the relative rise in other down the blinds and bolted the door), commodities. actually insist upon exhibiting this To afford a fair illustration of Mrs. intellectual pastime to the public, and Gore's style of novels, suppose that we even have the impudence to demand a --who can boast of having broken guinea and a half from each of the our harp during the first moons of our spectators—were we, we repeat, to academic freshmanship, and burnt even meet with such a scene as this, in its very fragments long before we even the pages of Gulliver or Scrib- escaped from our teens--suppose, we lerus, should we believe our own eyes ? say, that we--thongh having now come And yet we would ask, in what respect to years of discretion-should, neverdo the authors and readers of such theless, condescend to genius again for books as Mrs. Gore's differ from the five minutes, and present the reader actors and spectators of such a drama with a fiction of our own composition as we have been supposing, except in -how a Mr. Thos. Williams, foreman sinking one degree deeper into absur- in a grocer's shop (well to pass in the dity ?—for theirs are not even waxen, world—turning forty shillings a week, but mere verbal existences? Why, and himself turned of forty years old), the very children in the nursery would is adventurous enough to marry a girl box the ears of any old idiot of a nurse- of eighteen, by name Sally Smith maid who should attempt to palm off and how he takes his bride to a teaupon them, under the name of play, drinking at the house of his sister (a such barefaced foolery as this. What nymph of the pavé);—and how (as he (let us ask) is the source of interest in might have expected, indeed, in such à real novel? Why is it that the company) she there meets with a sad narrative of Truth itself can never scamp, who had near been the ruin of excite in us that interest which appears her;—and how this aforesaid fellow inseparable from thc bistorian of Fic- (call him Jackson) gets Mr. Williams tion? Is it not because his appeal turned out of his place, and, not conis constantly addressed to that which tent with that, sets a big bully at him, is common to us all—the human heart; who blackens his eyes for him ;—and and then, however exalted his subject how, upon this disaster, Mr. Williams -however varied bis language- we takes leave of the town ;--and howcan still hear him every man in his “Shall we go on ?- No,' (as Sterne own tongue ?' Is it not because, says,) we suspect the reader has bad while sympathizing with the imaginary enough already. We can forgive him, joys or sorrows which he presents to indeed, but it is upon condition that our notice, we feel that we are hearing when he awakens from the nap to what we have ourselves experienced, which we presume we have consigned or learning of what we are capable ; bim, he will take Mrs. Gore's work, and thus, upon his lips (to borrow the and having, with a merciless pen, sublime language of Madame de Stäel), demolished castles- laid waste parks 'the record of the past becomes the and abrogated titles, substitute for revelation of the future ?' Humani them the humbler dwellings, the ple a a a a Own beian nomenclatures, and the ignoble upon trust. We have not seen her. avocations of our homely romance-and In the case of one of Sir Walter then honestly ask himself what real Scott's heroines, we feel that we could difference he can discover take the pencil and trace their likeness upon the page we are reading. The " "Twixt tweedledum and tweedledec," beautiful Miss Dudley may be as like Locke says that it is an affront to one Venus as another, for aught we wit to try it by the rules of reason. can tell. Were we, in another world, We may certainly, with a clear con to meet with any of his characters science, concede to Mrs. Gore's works (from Lucy Ashton down to Jeannie at least a claim to that attribute of wit. Deans) we should walk up to them In fact, we feel that in subjecting know the accomplished Miss Dudley as to old acquaintances. Should we the motions of her characters to the from accomplished Eve' herself? ordinary canons of criticism, we are acting a part as unconstitutional as The persons whom Sir Walter introthose who would propose to hold a duces to our notice may not becourt-martial upon trainband captains. indeed they never are-such absolute paragons as Mrs. Gore's, but-such " What? hang a man for going mad? as they are are they not our Then farewell, British freedom!" familiar friends-and, as such, must Nevertheless, as we have been at the they not be far more interesting to us than all the vague and abstract pertrouble of dissecting this work, we shall fections of the whole host of angel and (to use an anatomical phrase). demonstrate' a little upon its members. We archangel, cherubim and seraphim, all shall even though with many apologies she may be highborn and rich—so put together? As for Miss Dudley, to Sir Walter Scott for bringing any much the better for herself ; she may of his children into juxta-position with be accomplished—de mieux en mieur, Mrs. Gore's) take the liberty of com as Lord Forreston would say, but what paring it with some of the master affair of ours is it? On the other pieces of art ; on the principle that the hand, she may be poor (and, for aught deformity of any physical lusus na. turæ could never be so fully illustrated she may be crazed with care or crossed we care, she may go to the poorhouse); as by a comparison with the Belvidere in hopeless love. Apollo. We intend, then, to exhibit « Then let the stricken deer go weep;" not merely Mrs. Gore's incapacity to write a novel, but her utter ignorance what can we be expected to care about of the very nature of one. the matter? She has never made us her take her heroine--Miss Dudley, we confidants. We have never seen the mean-as a specimen. She is beauti- lovers meet-we have never been ful, of course-a novelist can supply allowed to listen at the keyhole; even that without troubling the fairies. She the mysteries of the post-office have is, of course, also possessed of every been kept sacred from us. imaginable accomplishment_they do pathize with Sir Walter Scott's characnot cost even the six introductory ters, because, long before any demands lessons for which any of our newspaper are made upon us for our sympathy, professors' will guarantee them. they have become such intimate friends She is in love, and has a lover, of that we are no longer able to withhold course, too-(so much of course, it ; but can we be expected to care a indeed, that Mrs. Gore barely informs straw for the joys or sorrows of perus of it incidentally, and in our analysis sonages whose very existence is to us we had very nearly forgotten to men- a mere on dit? Now, we are not tion it at all). Moreover, she has (as at present quarrelling with Mrs. Gore the man says in the play), 'like tar- for not being equal to the creation of water, all the virtues under heaven- a real character. To expect anything could anybody take it.' Now, this is of the sort from her would be to come precisely Miss Dudley's case. We within one degree of her own stupidity ; cannot take her, potwithstanding but she has not even attempted it. It her innumerable incomparabilities.- is, perhaps, well that she has not ; * And why not?' Mrs. Gore may, because, being a mere bore, she could perhaps, ask in her ignorance and only, like all other bores, have become astonishment. We answer, simply be- still more insufferable from her more cause we are required to take her strenuous efforts to be interesting. Let us We symany other. For her to have attempted it, would before. Now-supposing us to be have been insanity ; but for any one able (at the word of command) immeto have not attempted it, and yet to diately to believe a circumstance so have attempted to write a novel, is- completely at variance with all our we really know not what word to make previous conceptions of him when use of, but imagine that fatuity' we meet with this too ardent lover approaches nearer to our meaning than afterwards playing the suitor to a We have adduced this young lady whom we suspected about instance, therefore, to prove-not(what to turn out to be his own daughter, is sufficiently self-evident) that Mrs. we of course put ourselves in a conGore is unequal to the task of writing catenation accordingly,' and began to a novel, but—that she must be utterly pack up for a journey across the incapable of understanding one. Tweed ; having before our eyes the But this is only one instance, out of fear of a catastrophe whose delicate three volumes' full. We shall select embarrassment would require, and, one more, and we select it upon the perhaps, baffle the most powerful same principle as the last–because, casuistry of even the law of Scotbeing illustrative of an ordinary fault land. Mrs. Gore, however, discreetly of all pseudo novelists, we shall be considering that Edipus himself (even able to make a general application had he had the advantage of being a of it. We have, in the last case, seen Scottish lawyer) might have found the that Mrs. Gore's heroine (if we are to enigma of his own family relations consider her as such) was a failure, somewhat difficult of solution, settles owing to our knowing nothing about the dilemma at once by informing us her. In the present we shall find a that Florence Dudley was too pure, similar result, from our being told too tov innocent, for Lord Forreston to much. We know not, indeed, whether attempt ber seduction. Yet one short to consider hiin the hero or not; but year ago we have seen this considerate we presume that Lord Forreston was gentleman endeavouring to corrupt a intended by Mrs. Gore for one of her bride, (upon whose destruction, indeed, extraordinary characters. Whatever he is represented as, after the lapse of he was intended for, however, we that year, still remorselessly bent); will tell her what he appears to be and -as if for fear lest our too merciful -a lazy, empty-headed, insignificant judgment should be willing to give coxcomb, who has attained the age of credit to this solitary trait of redeeming forty and the listlessness of fifty, with- nature in so ruthless a profligate-we out having acquired the sense of thirty are given to understand that at the or laid aside the conceit of twenty.-- early age of twenty-when his heart But he appears nothing worse. Now, might have been presumed to be not yet in a novel, as in real life, we of course quite withered, and his conscience not judge of the characters by what we already altogether seared-he had signasee them do or hear them say. Retro- lised himself by-not, indeed, the sespective evidence, indeed, (though duction, but the rape, of a victim who always received with caution, if not appears to have been innocent enough with absolute distrust) may be allowed and pure enough, too, for aught that for the purpose of throwing light on She is, at least, reprewhat is passing upon the stage ; but sented so, at the commencement of the what novelist, who knows what he is affair, and we must certainly infer as about, would ever think of investing much from the voie de fait in which it with an interest independent of that it terminates. And here, by the mouth of the main story ? and who (except of the same witness, the same culpritMrs. Gore, or somebody like her) ever casehardened by a twenty years' apdreamt of huddling up into an episode prenticeship to licentiousness-is reof a chapter or so, more incidents than presented as hanging back from the would form plots for a dozen of her pursuit of a fresh victim, for the very novels, apparently for the mere pur- cause which, of all others, would have pose of rendering all that she had told given zest to the chace in the estimaus before unintelligible, and everything tion of any libertine ; but how much that she intended to tell us afterwards more so in the case of such a libertine incredible? Here we have a character, as Lord Forreston. The libertinism, such as we have above described, which even in youth must have had its suddenly denounced to us as the per- source in a mere brutal instinct, unre. petrator of a rape some eighteen years deemed by one ray of sentiment, or we can see. |