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which she was trained, we should have been ready to pronounce the idea an improbable one. Our author falls into no such error. Ethel, when we first know her, bears traces of the evil influences by which she has been surrounded. Her own good sense enables her to detect the hollowness of the shams amid which she moves; and her kind heart prompts her to admire and love her uncle, one of the few true men with whom she has been thrown into contact, and even to cherish a certain kind of sympathy for poor Clive. But she is not insensible to the advantages of her position; she finds no little pleasure in the flatteries of her numerous admirers; she chafes against the yoke which she is destined to wear, and sometimes breaks out in bitter mock ery of the policy pursued by her wretched grandmother; but she prepares to submit with the best possible grace to her fate. The gradual awakening of her better self, the purifying influence of the terrible calamities that fall upon her house, the casting of that slough of conventionalism which has hidden her real character, and the return to simplicity and nature, are described with great truth and power. We could never understand why, when she had been brought to this state by severe discipline, she should find that she had lost the affection with which she had long trifled; and that the true lover who had borne with so many of her whims was now married to another. The episode of Rosey's marriage with Clive was surely needless, and, though it affords the opportunity of bringing out the true character of the Campaigner, has always appeared to us a serious blot on one of Mr. Thackeray's best stories. The course of true love had already been so rough, that the interposition of this fresh difficulty was quite gratuitous, and affords perhaps the best illustration of the author's failure to work out a skillful plot. Ethel Newcome, however, is the proof that he knew how to appreciate a woman who united strength of intellect and tenderness of heart. The "little sister" is another beautiful creation of his fancy; but she has little of that mental vigor which Ethel possesses.

We wish that Mr. Thackeray had given us more such pictures. We have no love, indeed, for the class of heroes in whom some writers delight men gifted with superhuman virtue and wisdom, who be

long to a sphere far removed from that of ordinary mortals, and whose goodness is altogether of so unapproachable a character, that it fails altogether to enlist the sympathies and stimulate the efforts of the reader. As a rule, the men with whom we meet are neither paragons of goodness nor monsters of vice; but always "compassed about with infirmities," often governed by motives the paltry selfishness of which they do not suspect themselves, erring from weakness of principle, or the power of sudden temptation, more frequently than from deliberate purpose; their virtues sullied with many imperfections, and their victories over self only attained at great cost, and perhaps after many reverses in the struggle; and, on the other hand, their vices developed and strengthened slowly by a course of indulgence, the ultimate issue of which they have not themselves foreseen. We admire the skill with which our author has brought this out, showing how subtle is the working of motive in the human heart; how largely men, apparently most opposite, are influenced by the self-same passions and feelings; how near may lie to ourselves the sins we are the first to condemn in others, and how very similar are the temptations by which we are all beset. The philosophic Archer Butler says with great truth and acuteness in one of his sermons, "The enemy of souls is a master of all the resources of his art, the arsenal of Satan is never empty, of weapons. Yet in kind-such are the necessary limits of human nature-they can not admit of much diversity; the wonder is, after all, that man can be destroyed on so small a stock of passions!

Mankind reïterate themselves from age to age, from country to country; the heart goes through the same narrow circle of follies in a thousand spheres; each generation is the poor echo of its predecessor." Mr. Thackeray's tales are instructive illustrations of these principles; and their great value is that they exhibit to us the evils springing from the operation of the very passions we harbor in our own hearts, and the triumph of the same temptations to which we ourselves are too prone to yield. At one time, the common idea was that these representations were indicative of a cynical disbelief in all goodness; but nothing could be more false, and there are few now who would maintain an opinion which, what

ever justification it might find in Barry drawn, is very limited, and the range of Lyndon, Vanity Fair, and even Pen- his moral teaching correspondingly nardennis, is abundantly contradicted by row. The Book of Snobs contains, in the later works. It is despondency rather fact, all the leading thoughts which he than cynicism that inspires the moraliz reiterates and illustrates in each successings with which the course of the narra- ive tale. His great aim is to inspire contive is again and again interrupted, and tempt for every thing that is not genuine ; which, colored as they frequently are by to place the beauty of simplicity and truth a sadness that approaches to somber mel- in opposition to the meanness, the deancholy, are far from being the least in- formity, and the wretchedness of hypocteresting or valuable parts of his books. risy and falsehood, even in those forms And when, as is not unfrequently the of it which society is content to sanction; case, indignant virtue, ready to utter its to rebuke that debasing worship of wealth anathemas on some deed of meanness and or money which is a disgrace to our Engvice, is asked to pause, to look within, to lish society; to exhibit the degrading inquire whether it has such sinlessness as bondage in which Mrs. Grundy holds would warrant it in casting the first stone; such numbers; to teach a man to respect instead of recognizing the voice of a himself, and to feel that the only position cynic, we feel that we are listening to one worth having is that which is won by his of large heart and generous sympathies, own real worth and persevering effort; who would plead for charity to the fallen, and to indicate the happiness which is to and speak words of wise caution to those be found in the cultivation of the kindwho are disposed to cherish a feeling of lier feelings of the nature, and the faithself-righteousness, and who, in fact, is fal discharge of duty, in however humble only reiterating the precepts of the old a sphere. Flunkeyism, selfishness, unreBook, "Judge not, that ye be not judg-ality, frivolity, pretentiousness, subservied;" "Let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall."

ence to the world's opinion, and compliance with its customs, are the evils against We therefore do not complain either which he brings his whole artillery to that Mr. Thackeray's heroes are not per- play, and, as all must feel, with terrible fect, or that his analysis of human char- effect. Sometimes he indulges in playful acter is so keen and searching as some- wit; then he employs all the force of a times to awaken uncomfortable feelings keen and biting satire; by-and-by he in the minds of his readers. His object glides into a strain of irony so polished certainly is to excite in all distrust of that it has often deceived the unthinking themselves, not of others; and though reader; anon he kindles with righteous possibly there may be found many who indignation, and pours forth words of derive from such teachings the miserable burning eloquence; or, most impressive consolation that they are as good as oth- of all, he speaks in that strain of tender ers commonly esteemed their superiors, and soul-subduing pathos, of which he this is a proof only of the perverted in was so consummate a master. Examples genuity of the disciple, not of mistake or of these different styles must at once ocincapacity on the part of the master. On cur to the remembrance of any who are the contrary, the effect which such lessons familiar with his works; and he must be must exert on right-minded men must be well fortified in his own conceit, who has beneficial; leading them to cherish gen- not sometimes, as he has read, heard the erous thoughts toward others, to form inward voice saying, "De te fabular narlowly estimates of themselves, to be watch-ratur." Still, though the influence thus ful against all forms of temptation, and, above all, to eschew that wretched spirit of Pharisaism, which not only injures the man himself, but hinders so seriously the progress of godliness. What we do object to is, that the writer takes little or no account of large classes, who, however mistaken he may deem them in their views, are striving to live up to their sense of right; that, in fact, the circle from which his actors and incidents are

exerted is healthful, we must feel that it is very circumscribed in extent. Nothing is condemned which does not deserve reprobation, and rarely is praise bestowed upon unworthy objects; but there are numberless evils in society left unnoticed, and types of pure and noble character among us which find here no representative. Very rarely is an excursion made beyond those fashionable circles, where the scene of the stories is mainly laid, ex

Tom Jones, to feel how much our age has
gained in finding a writer who could ex-
pose its weaknesses and lash its vices,
without ever penning a word that could
offend the taste of the most fastidious, or
call up a blush on the face of the most
modest. He has often to speak of sin,
but there is nowhere that coarse descrip
tion over which the impure would gloat,
that still more dangerous style of repre-
sentation which veils its native deformity
and suggests apologies for its commission.
Mr. Thackeray's own views of this style
of writing were strongly expressed in the
lecture on the "English Humorists," in
which he administers so terrible a casti-
gation to Sterne.
"There is," he says,

cept into those regions of literary and ar- | high principle, laboring for some definite tistic life, between which and the loftier end, viewing life with an abiding sense of sphere of aristocratic exclusiveness there solemn responsibility, and exerting some exists a certain undefined connection, in influence for good upon the society in virtue, mainly, of special privileges en- which they move. joyed by some of the denizens of the for- The moral tone of these works is almer. Of life in drawing-rooms and clubs, ways pure and elevating. Thackeray has in barristers' chambers and artists' stu- often been compared with Fielding, and dios, in English country houses and those not without propriety; but it is only nec continental cities which are the favorite re-essary to run through a few pages of sorts of those of both sexes who are broken down in constitution or character or purse; of scheming dowagers, vulgar pretenders, worn-out dandies, profligate critics, wretched tuft-hunters, and intriguing misses; of the Book of the Peerage, and all the moral and social evil it works in the circles where it is something like the fetish of the poor savage; of the laws, practices, and vicissitudes of that matrimonial bourse, where the dignity of man, the purity of woman, and the tenderest affections of both, are so often bartered away for the coronet of an earl, or the fortune of a millionnaire, we have-not more than enough; for the evils denounced are great, and so strong that they need to be vigorously assailed, if they are to be re-not a page in Sterne's writing but has moved at all-but still so much, that we something that were better away, a latent have wished that the same vigorous pen corruption, a hint as of an impure preshad been employed in satirizing some ence. Some of that dreary double entenother follies as well. And much as we dre may be attributed to freer times and admire many of the examples of quiet manners then, but not all. The foul Saheroism that develop themselves in the tyr's eyes leer out of the leaves constantcourse of such narratives, we could de- ly: the last words the famous author sire that Mr. Thackeray had sometimes wrote were bad and wicked-the last trodden other paths which he has entirely lines the poor stricken wretch penned eschewed, not only that he might have were for pity and pardon. I think of made his pictures of our modern society these past writers, and of one who lives complete, but still more, that, while ren- amongst us now, and am grateful for the dering honor where honor is due, he might innocent laughter, and the sweet and unhave kindled the ambition of the young sullied page, which the author of David to seek after the noblest and truest forms Copperfield gives to my children." of distinction. But, unfortunately, serv- Surely we must all cherish a similar ice of the character to which we allude, feeling to the author of Vanity Fair and however lofty its motives, or self-denying the Newcomes. In both these tales the its toil, is too much overlooked by the writer has to deal with characters and inclass to which Mr. Thackeray belongs. cidents which, in less skillful bands, or They seem to forget the world that lies rather in hands not under the guidance beyond the circle in which they move, of so pure a moral feeling, might have which, after all, is very contracted; and, become indelicate and injurious. But whenever they introduce any of its in- here there is not even the most distant habitants, only discover their own utter approach to any thing of this kind. Where ignorance relative to them, their aims, strong, earnest, and manly words of detheir principles, and their doings. The nunciation need to be uttered, there is no defect is more apparent in Mr. Thacke-shrinking from their employment; the ray, because his range is even more re-injustice of society in its ideas of crime stricted than common; and there is in his and its treatment of different criminals, tales a singular lack of men inspired by is fearlessly exposed; the downward path

of temptation and indulgence is traced | to indulge respecting all thing sacred and with that minuteness which a desire to profane, human and divine, and which make it a warning to others would excite, seemed to reveal a mind trembling on the and the penalties consequent on sin are verge of absolute atheism, may indicate set forth with terrible vividness. But one of those phases of struggle through there is a wise and becoming reticence which, at some period of his life, in comwhere it would be impossible to speak mon with numbers of young men, he without doing evil rather than good. The may have passed. But it is impossible to whole story of Lady Clara Newcome is read his books, and believe that he long told with singular delicacy and skill, retained such doubts, however for a seawhich we may appreciate all the more if son they may have disturbed and harasswe will place it in contrast with some of ed him. On the contrary, we find, scatthe productions of modern, especially fe- tered here and there, expressions of remale novelists. It was not an easy task that ligious feeling the most pure and touching. he had to execute; for he had to brand It is true they do not go very far, and with deserved infamy the apparent victim, have little to do with mere dogmatic but really the provoking cause of this opinions; but at least they manifest the heinous sin; and yet, at the same time, so presence of some feeling of reverence in to do it as not to suffer the feelings of the the heart, the recognition of a divine reader to lapse into a morbid sympathy guide of human action, and a divine conwith the crime of the criminal. Through soler in human sorrows, and the acknowlthe difficulties of this course he has steer edgment of the blessed influence which ed with consummate art. Sir Barnes dependence upon this direction and solace stands forth as the wretched, unmanly, exerts on human character and happiness. contemptible, canting villain that he was; There are passages which set forth certain and yet every feeling of commiseration aspects of religious truth with an elowhich has been cherished for Lady Clara, quence and force to which few preachers so long as she was the victim of his cru- have attained. What a striking comment elty, is changed for stern reprobation on the text, "She that liveth in pleasure when her agonies goad her into trans- is dead while she liveth," is that marvelgression. The brief but graphic sketch ous picture, so full of truth and pathos, of her future life is one of the most pow- in which he sets forth the character and erful sermons against vice it were possi- exposes the falsehood of Congreve's ble to preach. If ever sin might have views of life, where, after describing the pleaded excuse, it was here; yet in de- revelers in the midst of their riotings, he picting the complete wreck of Lady adds, "Hark! what is that chant coming Clara's happiness, her loss of reputation, nearer and nearer? What is that dirge peace of mind, and the very love for which will disturb us? The lights of the which she had sinned so deeply, our au- festival burn dim-the cheeks turn pale— thor shows that wrong can never be right, the voice wavers-and the cup drops on and that every where the wages of sin is the floor. Who's there? Death and Fate death. Never did we need such lessons are at the gate, and they will come in." more than at a time when so many are With what true and touching thoughts of strung with a spacious sophistry, to make death he introduces the account of Lady the worse appear the better reason, to Kew's funeral, telling in such forcible abate the instinctive horror with which words the story of a wasted life! "To vice should be regarded, and so to accus- live fourscore years, and be found dancing tom us to contemplate its features, pre- among the idle virgins! to have had near sented under a light so favorable, that we a century of allotted time, and then be may learn to view it at least with pity called away from the giddy notes of a and kindliness, if not with positive ap- Mayfair fiddle!" What exquisite beauty probation. and right feeling are there in the account of Helen Pendennis's death, breathing out her life so gently in an act of prayer for the son she loved so fondly!

Of the religious tendencies of Mr. Thackeray's writings, we must speak much more doubtfully. Not that he was an unbeliever; or, so far as we can detect, had any sympathies with intellectual skepticism. The bitter sneers in which Arthur Pendennis at one time was wont

"As they were talking the clock struck nine; and Helen reminded him how, when he was a little boy, she used to go up to his bedroom at that hour, and hear him say 'Our

Father.' And once more, oh, once more, the young man fell down at his mother's sacred knees, and sobbed out the prayer which the divine tenderness uttered for us, and which has been echoed for twenty ages since by millions of sinful and humbled men. And as he spoke the last words of the supplication, the mother's head fell down on her boy's, and her arms closed round him, and together they repeated the words, for ever and ever,' and Amen.' The sainted woman was dead. The last emotion of her soul was joy, henceforth to be uncheckered and eternal. The tender heart beat no more; it was to have no more pangs, no more doubts, no more griefs and trials. Its last throb was love; and Helen's last breath was a benediction."

We can not, with our limited space, multiply extracts of this character, although it would not be difficult to find many. Nor would we attach to them a deeper significance than they are fairly entitled to possess. In the face of them all we are compelled to admit, what we greatly deplore, that there are many evidences of want of sympathy with, if not aversion to, what we regard as evangelical religion and its special work. Very seldom, indeed, is it spoken of with actual contempt; nay, there is often a respect shown to those who conscientiously hold and consistently carry out its principles; but it is too manifest that their views are regarded as delusions. Mrs. Sophia Alethea Newcome, surrounded by her unctious ministerial friends, firmly asserting her authority, and not always using it in the wisest way, very narrow, very morose, and somewhat inclined to be overbearing, does not appear in a very loveable light, and her portrait has something about it of the caricature. Yet justice is done to her sincerity, to her abundant charity, and to a general excellence which all her bigotry and sourness could not wholly conceal. There are, however, quiet hits at tract distribution and other modes of Christian labor, which indicate that the author regards them with but scant favor, and, even where he gives their promoters credit for conscientious zeal, is disposed to look on it as a sign of intellectual feebleness. Perhaps, too, there is a tendency, evidences of which cross us here and there, to regard relig. ious feelings and acts as coming within the province of women rather than of

men.

It is worth our while to see if, from any thing in Mr. Thackeray's writings, we

can discover the reason of this feeling in one who had so true a reverence for virtue, such, earnest sympathy with all that Was noble and generous, and so real a consciousness of a relation between man and God, that he could write of the prayers of good women in such terms as these: "They have but to will, and as it were an invisible temple rises around them; their hearts can kneel down there, and they have an audience of the great, the merciful, untiring Counselor and Con

soler."

This is the more important because, unquestionably, he was a representative of a large class, wielding great influence, in virtue of their intellectual power and moral purity; and if there be any thing either in our modes of presenting Christian truth or in our forms of Christian activity that is fitted to repel rather than to attract, and in which we could effect a change without any compromise of principle, it certainly becomes us to make the attempt. It is easy and perhaps flattering to our own complacency to say, that the pride of intellect rebels against the peculiar doctrine of the gospel; but though this is certainly true, and though we can never expect that the "offense of the cross" will cease, we are surely not to be content that the noblest power of the world should thus belong to the devil; and, least of all, should we needlessly increase the difficulties which men of this caliber may feel to the acceptance of the truth.

One thing which manifestly impressed Mr. Thackeray, and which, we fear, has had a similar influence upon many others, is the unreality of many so-called religious acts. There is a very striking passage relative to the practice of family prayer, which reveals very much of this painful feeling, in the account of domestic worship at the house of the well-intentioned but weak, purse-proud, and worldly baronet, Sir Brian Newcome:

"I do not sneer at the purpose for which, at that chiming eight-o'clock bell, the household is called together. The urns are hissing, the plate is shining; the father of the house, standing up, reads from a gilt book for three or four minutes in a measured cadence. The members of the family are around the table in an attitude of decent reverence, the younger children whisper responses at their mother's knees; the governess worships apart; the maids and the large footmen are in a cluster behind their chairs, the upper servants performing their devotions on the other side of the sideboard; the nurse

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