first dared to break the trammels of the classics, and to clothe their thoughts in the language of the people. "It was there, too," says an English writer," that those novels or tales were first cultivated which are fitted to attract every class of society, because they reflect the manners of all classes. This species of writing reached great perfection in Italy, before literature had attained that maturity, in any other country of Europe, which could enable it to emulate the excellence which that country so early reached in poetry. At that time, the poetry of most countries of Europe was confined to the rude though occasionally vigorous effusions of wandering minstrels, and their metrical tales were afterwards extended into voluminous romances, in prose, which reflected those notions of love, war and chivalry, that were universally prevalent, from the existing state of society." The age of chivalry abounded in works of fiction, or rather in monstrous histories of real adventures embellished by fancy. Every thing, in literature, as in real life, was wild and extravagant. Romance ruled the world. One mighty spell rested upon society. Men dwelt in fairy-land. Their castles were enchanted; their strong-holds guarded by dragons. Fair ladies were imprisoned, and brave knights encountered unheard-of perils, to deliver them. There was a strange commingling of passions. Love and valor were wedded. The weaker passion became the master, and proud and turbulent warriors submitted to its dictates. Of course, love and heroism were the principal themes of literary discussion. Poetry and romance united to celebrate feminine charms and masculine prowess. From this hybridous union of passion and folly arose the countless romances of chivalry. They were read, admired and imitated till the world was flooded with extravagant fictions, and men went mad with the delicious intoxication. The peculiar state of society and manners gave birth to these frivolous, absurd, and, in some instances, licentious productions, and they, in turn, reacted upon society and contributed materially to the continuance of those institutions which had already become useless and burdensome. But as the institutions of chivalry lost their hold upon the popular mind, this species of literature declined. The matchless wit and irony of Cervantes finally brought it into utter contempt, and restored men to the use and guidance of the understanding. When the romances of chivalry lost their popularity, authors sought a different species of entertainment for the public. As society SECOND SERIES, VOL. IX. NO. II. 8

changed, new tastes were developed and new amusements became popular. As romance declined, the drama arose. The mightiest geniuses of Europe were devoted to it. It soon reached its acme. The success of a few gifted minds, in this department of literature, attracted a multitude of feeble writers to the same employment. The drama passed rapidly through all the stages of decline, from the loftiest tragedy to the lowest and most vulgar farce. The modern novel did not appear till the drama had passed the meridian of its glory. "It had ceased to be the mirror in which the age could contemplate itself and exhibit the license of a masque or the extravagance of a caricature, much more than the sobriety of actual life or the fidelity of a portrait." The novel was a new expedient to interest the populace and save public taste from utter abasement. The multitude had grown somewhat weary of their old idol. It had lost its power to excite. All the changes had been played upon it which human ingenuity could invent. The taste of the higher classes had become too refined to relish the entertainment which mercenary dramatists furnished for the rabble, and a change was demanded. A literary revolution was commenced. The English led the van. No very remarkable works of pure fiction appeared before the days of Richardson. This author seems to be at once the herald and representative of this new era in literature. He is certainly primus inter pares, among the early English novelists. He was the first who took the reading community by surprise and commanded their undivided attention and applause. The publication of his "Pamela," in 1740, commences a new epoch in English literature. It is probable that no work was ever published that was received with such unbounded enthusiasm by all classes of readers as this. It was recommended from the pulpit and lauded, in unqualified terms, by poets and literati. It was pronounced by Mr. Pope to be better than volumes of sermons; and another scholar observed, "that if all other books were to be burned, the Bible and Pamela should be preserved." The other works of this author were probably more extensively read than any contemporary publication. These same works, which were once the reigning amusement of the fashionable, the gay and the learned, are now almost forgotten. They are seldom read except by professed scholars. Like old portraits, whose dress and style of execution have become unpopular, they are rather forced into some dark closet than exhibited in the drawing-room.

It was once universally admitted that these works exerted a salutary moral influence on the community. It is now as universally doubted, to say the least. Those pictures which were then regarded as true to life, perfect in coloring and delineation, are now said to be stiff, overdrawn, unnatural caricatures. "There is," says a reviewer," a certain air of irksome regularity, gloominess and pedantry attached to Richardson's most virtuous characters. His good people are too wise, tɔo formal, to appear in the light of desirable companions, or to excite, in youthful minds, a desire to resemble them." This is by no means the opinion of mere puritans and bigots. Some of the warmest advocates of novels, express similar views. Charles Lamb remarks of this author, as follows: "The precise, straitlaced Richardson has strengthened vice, from the mouth of Lovelace, with entangling sophistries and abstruse pleas against her adversary, virtue, which Sedley, Villiers and Rochester wanted depth of libertinism sufficient to have invented." Talfourd observes: "He had the power of making any set of notions, however fantastical, appear as truths of Holy Writ to his readers." Still this critic thinks the general impression made on us by his works is virtuous. It is acknowledged that the author himself was a man of high moral worth, and that he desired and intended to promote virtue and happiness by his writings. It is now very apparent that his works were better adapted to secure transient popularity to the author, than to improve the public morals.

This new path to fame, which he had so successfully struck out, was soon thronged with hungry authors. Few excelled him in talent; most fell far below him in morals. The genius of Fielding is unquestioned. The demoralizing tendency of his novels is equally unquestioned."Fielding introduces us to the common ways of this bright and breathing world." His delineations of human nature are unrivalled; and it is precisely on this account that they are so pernicious. This is not a common fault of novelists. They are generally censured for drawing unnatural pictures of real life. It is not, however, a sufficient vindication of a character that it is drawn as it really exists; for many characters ought never to be drawn. The conduct of some men is too gross to be described, and real life affords many a vicious scene which common minds ought never to be acquainted with. It will not always justify a narrative, to say that it is true, or that it has verisimilitude. There is much of

the world's real history, which a virtuous mind cannot describe or contemplate with impunity. A knowledge of the world, as it is, rather tends to make men cunning than good. A minute knowledge of the worst vices of the world, cannot but taint the youthful mind. Fielding has chosen to represent human nature in its worst forms, and has thus lent to vice the aid of his mighty genius. His Tom Jones is perhaps the most perfect prose epic in existence. It is unrivalled in plan and execution; in the development of its subject, and in the originality and truthfulness of its characters. It is one of the most fascinating, and, at the same time, one of the most corrupting books in the English tongue. When Hannah More once alluded to a witty passage in Tom Jones, in the hearing of Dr. Johnson, the great moralist (who, by the way, was no enemy to novels,) replied, "I am shocked to hear you quote from so vicious a book; I am sorry to hear you have read it; a confession which no modest lady should ever make. I scarcely know a more corrupt book."

The few virtuous characters which Fielding has portrayed, are as amiable and winning as his ordinary characters are gross and corrupting. The existence of such an ideal as Parson Adams, only makes us regret the more the prostitution of his noble genius to purposes so vile.

The novels of Smollet exhibit less talent than those of Fielding, while they are, if possible, more vulgar and licentious. They are chiefly admired for their oddity and low humor. There is scarcely any thing in style, sentiment or character to redeem his numerous pages from the charge of obscenity and immorality. The works of the authors above noticed, were much sought after during the latter portion of the eighteenth century, and exerted a very injurious influence on the manners and morals of the last generation. They are now little read, not because they are less worthy of attention than more recent productions, but because the public, like a fickle mistress, is always most captivated with a new favorite. And the candidates for popular favor have not been few nor undistinguished. Novels have been multiplied indefinitely. They have been made the vehicles of every diversity of opinion and sentiment in philosophy, politics and religion. Some of them display genius, some wit, and some ribaldry. Some are remarkable for the high moral tone that pervades them; some are negative in their character, and others are positively infidel and licentious. Some exhibit in their heroes the finest traits of humanity; others exalt the cri

minal to a hero, and endeavor to render vice attractive. The heroes of fiction, like the conscripts of Napoleon, have been taken from every class in society, from the footpad, who lies in ambush for the solitary traveller, to the mighty Autocrat, who aims at universal dominion. The subjects illustrated are as various as those of the ancient lays of Brittany:

"Some beth of war and some of woe,

And some of joy and mirth also,
And some of treachery and guile,
Of old adventures that fell while,
And some of bourdes and ribauldry,
And some there be of Faery;
Of all things that men seth,

Most of love, forsooth, there beth."

It is probable that there are more pages of ephemeral novels published yearly, throughout the civilized world, than of all other literary productions united. They are not only published, but circulated and read; read too by that very class of persons who have no moral strength to resist their vicious influence. "Since 1814," says Menzel, (speaking of the German novel alone,) "there have been not less than 5 or 6000 new novels manufactured. Were they all good, they were too many, for the plain reason that nobody could read them all; and if they are bad, then they should never have been written. They are, in fact, for the most part, bad; probably there are not a hundred of them which a rational man can lay down without blushing for the people that produce such novels. There remain, therefore, more than 5000 novels, which, within a short time, have not only uselessly consumed a great capital of money and time of authors, publishers, printers, readers, etc., but by their demoralizing, at least enervating effect, have essentially injured the nation." The French press has been nearly as prolific as the German in this species of literature. There the moral standard is still lower than in Germany. Fifty years ago, a competent critic said of the French novelists, "they not only seduce the heart through the senses, and corrupt it through the medium of the imagination, but fatally strike at the root and being of all virtue, by annihilating all belief in that religion which is its only source and seminal principle." English novels, though less abundant, are still as numerous in proportion to the issues of the press, in that country, as in France or Germany. The facilities for printing and distributing cheap works of fiction, render them a very important agent in working out the