CITY SKETCHES. NO. II. THE LAST REFUGE. ONE of the poor and lowly, For merciless corruption, yet, yet another guest. Not to the fields they take her, Where green the turf might grow; A grave where wild flowers blow, And o'er her lowly bed the wind might whisper low. Away, 'mid field and meadow, And summer's dews and showers so gently rain on all. Ah, no! within the city There is a fitter spot For one like her, whom pity And there, 'mid stranger dust, her nameless bones may rot. Of those whom stern privation Of bitterness and tears; Even early childhood shaded with a cloud that never clears. In youth without direction, And cursed in each affection That might have led to hope; Unaided through the paths of darkest sin to grope. Uncared for, she hath perished, Who might have been the cherished Of some poor but happy hearth, With heart and feelings pure and stainless as at birth. But want and harsh denial Had withered leaf and bough, Its sunlight and its shadows-what recks she of them now. G. A. RECENT POPULAR WORKS OF FICTION. INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. "Whatever withdraws us from the power of our senses, whatever makes the past, the distant, or the future, predominate over the present, advances us in the dignity of thinking beings."-DR. JOHNSON. "THE pleasures of imagination," says Addison, "are, in some respect, equal to those of the understanding." The historian, possessing a lively fancy, enshrines the warrior, statesman, or patriot, in a halo of light, which, however pleasing to the reader, will induce him to adopt his opinions, without examining into their truth. In the pursuit of philosophy, the imaginative is too apt to be content with trifling experiments, on which he builds systems more beautiful than lasting; the biographer may, through ardency in the same temperament, gloss over the vices, or colour too highly the virtues, with which his hero may be gifted. 'Tis in fiction alone, that the fancy finds its truest and widest scope, there it may revel in undisguised delight, while in it, real occurrences are narrated, living characters are portrayed, the secret workings of the human heart, the experience of our ablest minds, are disclosed, without the formal details of matter of fact. In From the time of Richardson, Fielding, and Smollett, to that of the greatest master of fiction in modern times, good novels appeared at intervals; but the great proportion of those issued from the press, especially at the beginning of the present century, were filled with mawkish sentiment, exaggerated and unnatural pictures of life and manners-manly virtue being obscured under affectation and folly. 1814, appeared the "Waverly Novels," which advanced this department of composition to a high standard, and greatly increased its circle of readers; and now we have authors, whose talents, education, and experience are of the first order, engaged in the production of these works, which accordingly contain their feelings and opinions, arranged and adorned with the brilliancy of high intellectual power, for the instruction and gratification of millions. The imagination is one of the gifts of God, its moderate use is therefore innocent and affords high gratification; and with reverence be it remembered, that the prophets of old, nay, the Divine Teacher himself, scrupled not to employ fiction or parable, in order to convey truths of everlasting importance! Fiction embraces a wide circle of readers-the old as well as the young; the former quietly comparing their own chequered or peaceful lot with the fortunes of the hero or heroine of the story; the latter looking forward, with eagerness, to their future share of the dangers and pleasures of mature life. Works of fiction are scattered in profusion on the tables of the noble and affluent, and while they tend to relieve their ennui, they acquaint them, in some degree, with the hardships of the less favoured children of their common parent. The less affluent, agreeably intermix severer duties with the leisurely perusal of its varied pages; the sons of dissipation and the idle, resort to it to "kill time," and meet occasionally admonitions which sink deeply into their hearts, relieving noble spirits from the thraldom of lethargy, and inciting them to industry and goodness of life; while to the laborious student and professional man, it forms agreeable mental relaxation. Fiction "introduces us to the domestic society of the Romans, the baths, temples, and other marvels," of the eternal city, connected with a record of the sufferings and devotion of the early Christians; the entombing of a city in the lava of Vesuvius, is associated with a tale of interest and beauty. The hollowness of the power of the Greek empire, servile ceremonial, and strong professions of attachment, linked with deadly conspiracies; Alexis, conscious of his own weakness, and distrustful of all, saved by British courage and fidelity. The attempts of the Crusaders to regain the holy sepulchre-deeds of valour and chivalry, inspired and sustained by the charms of beauty-the duplicity and meanness of knights, sworn by the most solemn oaths to aid each other and the common cause, while the true spirit of chivalry and generosity is manifested by a Mahometan. In the mountain-passes of Switzerland, we witness the bold and successful resistance of haughty and tyrannical sway. The family of the Medici presents pictures of the unscrupulous use of unlawful means to further the wishes of insatiable ambition and cruelty, but fully frustrated by the overruling hand of providence. The history and manners of our own country furnish many themes for the novelist. The haughty bearing of the Norman conqueror, contrasted with the sturdy plainness of the Saxon; libertinism masked under chivalrous profession, and willing to attach the crime of witchcraft to an innocent and virtuous maiden, rather than abate one jot of its sanctimoniousness; with unregulated passions, after blasting all earthly and heavenly hopes, dragging their victim to utter destruction. Onward in the roll of centuries, and we behold the related and rival queens, the one as renowned for her beauty and misfortunes, as the other for the masculine nature of her mind, and the energy of her government. Forward still, and we discover the devices framed to preserve ill-got power, religious enthusiasm made the vehicle for political aggrandizement, and the mask for licentious passion. The vicious habits of an infatuated monarch, trampling over a just regard for his own safety, the sacred laws of hospitality, and the ties of tried loyalty, and is saved merely from the virtuous disposition of his intended victim. The religious enthusiasm of our revered ancestors, yeilding up their life's-blood for the maintenance of eternal truth, contrasted with uncompromising fidelity to the behests of an ill-advised sovereign-its sincerity proved by continued attachment to the same cause, when it becomes hopeless. The last throe of the spirit of clanship, when the clans gathered around a prince whose ancestors had for ages worn the crown for which he contended; its entire suppression after his defeat, a defeat following partial success, the fate of his race. Feudal duty and affection shown in the devotion of Meg Merrylees, in saving the life, and raising to his rightful position, the heir of her former protector, even after she had been ignominiously driven from the gipsy haunt of Demcleugh. The forms and usages of society, the modes of acting and feeling in public and private, political and social relations, are all mirrored there, and men perceive their own reflections, and are corrected. Customs, ridiculous and wicked, but, from usage rendered familiar, there receive their deathblow. The infinite variety of shades of character, the endless workings of feeling and principle, the tempestuous passions which agitate the soul, the genial affections, the divine portion of his nature; the pleasures arising from the practice of virtue, and the insidious steps from innocence to crimes of deepest dye-causing us to refrain from the beginnings of evil, and to shrink from the brink of the precipice, from which those who depart in the least from the straight paths of integrity are sure to be thrown-every form of oppression, cruelty, and wickedness, difficult to reach, and little suspected, are in fiction discovered and developed. Many pursue the business and pleasures of life with such avidity, that they have no leisure or taste for the refinements of fiction; but there are many dependent on their daily toil, whose cares cease when their desk is closed or their tools laid down, who wend their way from the mart, the counting-room, or the workshop, to solitary rooms, far from gaiety and friends. Expensive amusements are not for them, but how delightful is the perusal of the novel, (even though procured from the circulating library). They traverse lighted halls, thronged with the beauteous and the noble, and accompany the benighted wanderer on his weary way; read with new interest the well-told tale of true love; be deep in the counsels of cabinets; and equally versed in daring schemes of robbery and fraud. They appreciate (yet how inconceivable to some!) refinement of taste and expression-exhibitions of intellectual acumen and love most dearly those personifications of moral and physical beauty, which we in vain seek for in actual life. Can a deeper conviction of the impropriety and danger of clandestine correspondence be received, than from perusing the melancholy, heart-rending fate of Lucy of "St. Ronan's Well," "Amy Robsart," or "Effie Deans;" and though the last reached, through a thorny and perilous path, honourable marriage, yet view the secret misery which accompanied her till death, arising inseparably from her changed position in society. These brief and imperfect remarks precede a series of essays on recent popular works of fiction. In our investigations, we trust to be accompanied by many of our readers as to cherished associations; and if we can direct our other friends in their researches into fiction's stores, to its most valuable repertories, we shall be greatly gratified indeed. The merit, but especially the moral tendency, of the works we discuss, will be our principal themes. We possess little tendency to heroworship, and will not, on that account at least, call evil good, and good evil; and while we will acknowledge, when it exists, intellectual brilliancy and power, we will not hesitate to denounce immoral sentiment, though enshrined in the productions of genius itself. E. STANZAS TO THE MEMORY OF A DEPARTED FRIEND. THE tears I shed unbidden flow, I weep no lover lost or slain, I hear "a voice"-'tis from "St. Rule;" From rocks, and groves, and grottoes cool, Oft does it greet me from the grave. It tells of other years and days Of friendships frozen in the dust— And never must I hear it more! HERMIONE. MALINA NEALE. A TALE. BY "A CONSTANT READER." A MINISTER'S visit! How many distant yet vivid recollections of that important event, in a country district such as owned our birth, come fleeting into our reflective mind. Well do we remember how our mother had duly impressed upon our infantile mind the importance of the occasion-how she laboured hard at instructing us for nearly a whole week previous to the event, in the necessity of a proper, grave comportHow our catechism was blubbered over in a corner, regularly every evening on our return from school; till, betwixt greasy thumbmarks and tears, hardly a trace of the decalogue remained. With what feelings of awe, and instinctive perception of coming evil, we awaited ment. * A celebrated ruin at St. Andrews, near which the late Professor Thomas Gillespie lived, died, and lies buried. Many of his pieces were headed "A VOICE FROM ST. RULE!" |