Novel Reading

BY AN AMERICAN AUTHOR.

F EW persons suspect how many novels are written, and printed and sold. There are about five thousand five hundred offered for sale in this country. If a man were to read one

a week for seventy-five years, he would not be through the list. There are, of course, many novel-readers. Something on a great scale will be the result. What will it be; good or evil? Let us see.

It is natural to enquire, Who write novels? A few pious persons have written works which are sometimes called novels. But they are too serious for the gay, and too gay for the serious. So they are seldom read. Others are written by moral persons, who really seem anxious to teach some truth in an easy way. But nearly or quite all such are thought dull; and so they lie, covered with dust, on the shelves of the bookseller, are sent to auction, and used as waste paper. The popular novels of our day are, to a great extent, written by men who are known to be lax in principle. England and France contain no men who are more free from the restraints of sound principles than their leading novelists. They are literal and “literary debauchees.”

But do not novels contain many good things which cannot be learned elsewhere? I answer, they do not. It is confessed that they never teach science. It is no less true that they pervert history, or supplant it by fiction. This is throughout true of Walter Scott, who has excelled all modern novelists in the charms of style.

The literature of novels is commonly poor, and that of the best cannot compare with the standard English and French classics. Even Scott’s best tales are intended to ridicule the best men, and to excuse or extol the worst men of their age. Like Hume, he was an apologist of tyrants, whose crimes ought to have taken away both their crowns and their lives. I beseech you not to read novels. I will give you my reasons.

1. Their general tendency is to evil. They present vice and virtue in false colours. They dress up vice in gaiety, mirth, and long success. They put virtue and piety in some odious or ridiculous posture. Suspicion, jealousy, pride, revenge, vanity, rivalries, resistance of the laws, rebellion against parents, theft, murder, suicide, and even piracy are so represented in novels as

to diminish, if not to take away the horror which all the virtuous feel against these crimes. Almost all that is shocking in vice is combined with some noble quality, so as to make the hero on the whole an attractive character. The thief, the pirate, and especially the rake are often presented as successful, elegant and happy. Novels abound in immodest and profane allusions or expressions. Wantonness, pride, anger, and unholy love are the elements of most of them. They are full of exaggerations of men and things. They fill the mind with false estimates of human life. In them the romantic prevails over the real. A book of this sort is very dangerous to the young, for in them the imagination is already too powerful for the judgment.

1. Novels beget a vain turn of mind. So true is this that not one in a hundred of novel-readers is suspected, or is willing to be suspected, of being devout. Who by reading a novel of the day has ever inclined to prayer or praise? Novel-reading is most unhappy in its effects on the female mind. It so unfit it for devotion, that even in the house of God levity or tedium commonly rules it. Thus practical atheism is engendered. The duties of life are serious and weighty. They whose trade is to trifle and to nourish vanity, cannot be expected to be well informed, or well-disposed respecting serious things. However much novel-reading may weep over fictitious misery, it is found that they generally have little or no sympathy with real suffering. Did you ever know a mother to send away a sick child, or a daughter to neglect a sick mother, for the purpose of finishing a novel? If irreligion and impiety do not flourish under such influences, effects cannot be traced to causes.

2. The price of these books is often low, yet the cost of them in a lifetime is very great. Miss W. borrowed some books, yet she paid seventy dollars in one year for novels alone. Doing this for fifteen years, she would spend one thousand and fifty dollars. Yet her nephews and nieces were growing up without an education. Mrs. L. stinted her family in groceries that she might have a new novel every month. Mr. C. pleaded want of means to aid the orphan asylum, yet he paid more than

sixty dollars a year for novels for his daughters. Novels have, in the last five years, cost the people of the United States from twelve to fifteen millions of dollars. For one, they have paid thirty thousand dollars. This waste is wanton. No good is received in return.

1. Novel-reading is a great waste of time. Nothing is so valuable as that which is of great use, yet cannot be bought with anything else. We must have time to think calmly and maturely of a thousand things, to improve our minds, to acquire the knowledge of God, and to perform many pressing duties. The business of life is to act well our part here, and prepare for that solemn exchange of worlds which awaits us. He whose time is spent without economy and a waster on trifles will awake and find himself undone and will “mourn at the last, when his flesh and his body are consumed, and say, ‘How have I hated instruction and my heart despised reproof.'”

2. The effects of novel-reading on morals are disastrous. Many young offenders are made so by the wretched tales which now abound. In one city, in less than three months, three youths were convicted of crimes committed in imitation of the hero of a novel. Here is a court of justice in session. Blood has been shed. Men are on trial for their lives. All the parties involved are intelligent and wealthy. The community is excited. Crowds throng the court-room from day to day. The papers are filled with the letters which led to the tragical end of one, and the misery of many. The whole scene is painful in the highest degree. Among many witnesses is one of manly form, polished manners and hoary locks. Even the stranger does him reverence. His country has honoured him. He must testify, and so sure as he does, he will tell the truth; for his honour and blood are concerned. He says: The husband of my daughter was “honourable, kind and affectionate,” and if my daughter has been in an unhappy state of mind I attribute it to the impure works of “Eugene Sue and Bulwer.” All these cases have been judicially investigated and published to the world. They have filled many a virtuous mind with horror, and every judicious parent with concern.

Nor is novel-reading a wholesome recreation. It is not a recreation at all. It is an ensnaring and engrossing occupation. Once begin a novel, and husband, children, prayer, filial duties are esteemed trifles until it is finished. The end of the story is the charm. Who reads a novel a second time? Some say others do it, and so may we. But others are no law to us. The prevalence of an evil renders it the more binding on us to resist the current. Novel-reading makes none wiser, or better, or happier. In life it helps none. In death it soothes none, but fills many with poignant regrets. At the bar of God no man will doubt that madness was in his heart when he could thus kill time and vitiate his principles.

Dr. M’Crie’s Criticism of Sir Walter Scott on the Covenanters.

DURING the month of September, both from Press and platform, we have had a deluge poured forth to the memory of Sir Walter Scott; even St. Gile’s Cathedral, which heard the gospel from the lips of Knox, opened its doors to commemorate the hero of the hour. Scott’s fame rests chiefly on his eminence as a writer of romances—a very poor foundation at best. It is true that his works now no longer enjoy the popularity they once had. They are too tame for the taste of the moderns, who like something more spicy with its appeals to the morbid instincts of our fallen nature. Scott, no doubt, had many estimable qualities as a man, but we consider it our duty to call attention to one of the greatest dis-services ever he did to Scotland, all the more so, especially for the sake of teachers, scholars and others, that in all the eulogies poured forth we have seen no reference to the unjust attack he made on the Covenanter. The world has its idols, and to them it will pay its homage, but it is the memory of the righteous which will be held in everlasting remembrance, and we have no doubt but

this will hold true of the Covenanterers notwithstanding all that Sir Walter Scott did to hold them up to ridicule and contempt.

The famous criticism of Dr. M’Crie, levelled at Sir Walter Scott’s treatment of the Covenanterers and their persecutors in Old Mortality, though now almost forgotten, is of sufficient interest to have it recalled when so much is being written about the famous writer. The authorship of the romances which were coming from the press had not yet been divulged when Tales of My Landlord appeared. And in this connection it is interesting to note that Dr. Andrew Thomson, St. George’s, Edinburgh, in writing to Dr. M’Crie urging him to write a review of Old Mortality, indicated that it was his opinion that Walter Scott was the author of these works. Dr. M’Crie, at his friend’s suggestion entered on the congenial task of defending the Covenanterers and exposing their persecutors. No one was better equipped for the task. M’Crie had just sprung into literary fame by his Life of Knox, which had captured the literati of Edinburgh and given M’Crie a place as a recognised historian of Scottish Reformation history.

In a letter to Dr. Thomson, though hesitating to embark on the task, M’Crie indicates his intention to undertake the work. “After a slice of the fattest and nicest bit,” he writes, “of the flesh of Cleishbotham, Claverhouse, Dalziel, and other savage wild animals, I have, I confess, a greater longing to be at them, and I could instantly fall on without waiting for your formal concurrence and directions.” He fully recognises he has quite a task on hand, but the man who resurrected the fame of John Knox was not the one to stand by when the reputation of those he revered was held up to ridicule, and the character of their persecutors held forth as praiseworthy. The first part of the Review appeared in the Christian Instructor for January, 1817, and it was continued in the two succeeding numbers for February and March. Though the articles appeared anonymously, the author was immediately spotted by the public. The review, though written when he was suffering from a severe illness, was in keeping with the thoroughness that characterised all M’Crie’s

historical writing. It created a sensation when it appeared, and it did much to wipe out from the minds of many who had read Old Mortality as pleasant history, that they had been reading history at all. It produced the impression on the minds of its readers who had read Old Mortality that instead of the novel presenting an entertaining piece of fiction founded on history, that it was in reality a libel and a ridiculous caricature of the opinions and actions of the Covenants. M’Crie, in defending the Covenants, is careful to point out that neither in their words nor in their actions did they speak and act wisely at all times, but to condemn them as a band of fanatics only to be laughed at was more than he would allow. To him they were men engaged in a titanic struggle for civil and religious liberty, and if, at times, they acted unwisely this might to a great extent be traceable to the oppression from which they suffered.

Scott was strongly prejudiced against the Covenants. It was, therefore, impossible that he could do justice to them. In a letter to Southey, he says: “I had many Cavalier prejudices instilled into me, as my ancestor was a Killiecrankie man.” His mind is further revealed in the letter from which the foregoing words have been quoted. “As for my good friend, Dundee,” he writes, “I cannot admit his culpability in the extent you allege; and it is scandalous in the Sunday bard to join in your condemnation, and yet come of a noble Graeme! I admit he was tant soit peu savage, but he was a noble savage; and the beastly Covenants against whom he acted hardly had any claim to be called men, unless what was founded on their walking upon their hind feet. You can hardly conceive the perfidy, cruelty and stupidity of these people, according to the accounts they themselves have preserved.” The man who gave vent to such sentiments ruled himself out of court in the minds of all unprejudiced men as an interpreter of the sayings and actions of the Covenants, yet it is from his pages thousands have formed their opinions of the Covenants. The condemnation of a whole body of men without one word of qualification shows a narrower outlook than the men he was condemning.

Scott was severely hit by M’Crie’s criticism, and though at first he assumed an air of high superiority and announced that he had no intention of reading the review, as the following extract shows, yet so damaging was the effect that Scott had to make some reply. He thus refers to M’Crie’s attack and his determination not to read it: “The author of a very good Life of Knox, has, I understand, made a most energetic attack upon the score that the old Covenanters are not treated with decorum. I have not read it, and certainly never shall. I really think there is nothing in the book that is not very fair and legitimate subject of raillery. . . . As for the consequences to the author, they can only affect his fortune or temper—the former, such as it is, has been long fixed beyond shot of these sort of fowlers, and for my temper I considered always that by subjecting myself to the irritability which much greater authors have felt on occasions of literary dispute, I should be laying in a plentiful stock of unhappiness for the rest of my life. I therefore make it a rule never to read the attacks made upon me.” This ostrich-policy, however, had to be set aside on this occasion at least, as Lockhart informs us in his Life: “He soon changed his purpose, and finally devoted a very large part of his article for the Quarterly Review to an elaborate defence of his own picture of the Covenanters” (vol. iv., 34). Scott did his best in his reply to parry the keen thrusts of his well-equipped opponent, but M’Crie was more than a match for him in a field where he was very much more at home than the novelist.

Dr. M’Crie met Sir Walter after the review appeared, but there was no apparent resentment on the part of the novelist to the historian; in fact, according to Dr. M’Crie’s version, there was the same frankness and cordiality as before. Reference has already been made to M’Crie’s qualifications for dealing with the subject in hand. Though a minister of one of the smallest Presbyterian bodies in Scotland—the Constitutional Presbytery—he had risen to fame by his masterly Life of John Knox. The mastery of the subject displayed, the skill with which the historical material was marshalled and the whole

dignified treatment of the subject placed M’Crie at once in the front rank of Scottish ecclesiastical historians. This was the man who entered the lists against Sir Walter Scott. M’Crie showed that Sir Walter relied too exclusively on his imagination for his facts. Unfortunately, for the sake of truth, thousands read Old Mortality who never heard of M’Crie’s review, to say nothing of reading it.

Sir Walter, in his effort to make the persecutors of the Covenants appear as gentlemen with many estimable qualities, instead of the fierce, ruthless soldiers of the popular imagination, had a task that was far beyond his pen. A journalist, recently in hitting off a fellow-journalist who had been endeavouring to paint a certain politician in a whiter hue than his opponent deemed just and honest, described the process as a case of whitewashing black sheep. The fact that the process is unknown does not rob the figure of its significance as suggestive of impossibility. It was such a task Sir Walter undertook when he essayed to put in a good word for the persecutors. This was one of the openings in his armour which M’Crie took full advantage of, and he had quite sufficient material at his hand to show up Claverhouse, Johnston of Westerraw, Turner, Bannatyne, Dalziel, Grierson of Lag and others of the same fraternity, in rather a lurid and an unholy light. He made use with great effect of the shootings of John Brown of Priesthill and Andrew Hislop; and showed that it will take more than all the water in Scotland to wash the bloodstains from the hands of the persecutors; for powerful though the pen of Scott was, this was a task beyond its power.

It is rather difficult to select any particular passage from the Review as characteristic of the style and indicative of the use M’Crie made of his historical material. The impression left on the mind of the reader is one of respect for the minuteness of the historian’s knowledge and his skill in making use of the vast material that he has at hand for the purpose of proving his contention. The following passage may be quoted as showing how he deals with Sir Walter’s plea for Claverhouse, as set

against the vindictive spirit shown by Dalziel: “The author frequently quotes proverbs, and he may perhaps have heard of one which is not without its meaning—Better a black devil than a white. Where two characters are noted or even suspected for cruelty, we would far sooner throw ourselves on the mercy of him who is of severe brow and harsh manners than of him whose real dispositions are concealed under a smiling countenance and the most fawning address. We have in our eye facts directly bearing upon the case under consideration. Dalziel was guilty of great cruelties; yet there is at least one instance which shows that his innate severity, hardened by a long course of barbarous service, was not altogether unsusceptible of humane impressions, and that he could treat even a puritanical prisoner with generosity. John Paton was a captain in the Presbyterian army at Pentland, and on that occasion had fought sword in hand with Dalziel, whom he had encountered on the field. When he was brought into Edinburgh as a prisoner after the battle of Bothwell, a soldier upbraided him with being a rebel, to whom he mildly replied, ‘I have done more for the king than perhaps you have done,’ referring to the battle of Worcester, where he had fought for Charles. Dalziel, overhearing the conversation, said, ‘Yes, John, that is true,’ and, turning to the soldier, struck him with his cane and told him that he would teach him other manners than abuse such a prisoner. He then expressed his sorrow for Paton’s situation, said he would have set him at liberty if he had met him on the way, and promised that he would yet write to the king for his life. Paton thanked him, but added, ‘You will not be heard.’ ‘Will I not,’ replied the General, ‘if he does not grant me the life of one man, I shall never draw the sword for him again.’ It is said that he obtained a reprieve for Paton; but he was not able to procure his life. Now, we know of no instance of Claverhouse doing an action of this kind, except in the fictions of the tale before us. We have mentioned it to show that the Presbyterian writers, who have recorded it, were not disposed to overlook any act of clemency towards them

on the part of those who had been the instruments of their greatest sufferings, and also to show how grossly our author has blundered in the comparison which he has drawn between the characters of these two officers.”

In his last article M’Crie summarises his criticism. “We flatter ourselves,” he says, “that we have satisfactorily established the two leading positions that we advanced at the beginning of the review—the gross partiality which the author has shown to the persecutors of the Presbyterians, and the injustice which he has done to the objects of persecution. We have produced undeniable proofs of the former, in his withholding a just view of the severities and cruelties which they perpetrated, softening them in the representations which he has given, and exhibiting the character of some of the chief oppressors in such a light as to recommend them to the admiration of his readers. We have examined his representation of the Presbyterians or Covenanter, and have found it, in numerous instances, to be unfair, false, and grossly exaggerated. Instead of being the ignorant, foolish, and violent fanatics which he has held them out to be, we have shown that information was extensively diffused among them; that they were a sober and religious people; that their contentions and sufferings were directed to the support of the kindred cause of religion and liberty; and that the instances of extravagance and violence really committed were confined to a few, and extorted by grievous and insufferable oppression. We have also shown that the work is disfigured with profaneness, and that the author has used freedoms with religion, and with the sacred language of the Scriptures, unjustifiable in any book, but altogether inexcusable in one that is intended for popular amusement. . . . It appears to us that there is something extremely presumptuous and assuming in the very attempt to select the characters and proceedings described in this Tale as a subject for ridicule and burlesque; as if, in the opinion of sensible men of all parties, they were completely indefensible, and as if the truth of the facts which the author has brought forward, and the view which he has

taken of them, were already placed beyond all reasonable doubt or contradiction. We trust, however, that the good sense of our countrymen, the information which they possess, and the regard which they still cherish to the cause of religion and freedom, will counteract the poison.”

M’Crie’s Review was reprinted in volume iv. of the collected edition of his works (Edinburgh, 1857).