ally of licentious opinions, has thought this a convenient mode of disguising and serving up his errors. The thirst for this species of composition is inconceivably ardent and extensive. All classes of persons in society, from the dignified professional character to the lowest grades of labouring indigence, seek and devour novels. These ephemeral productions are daily composed, translated, revamped, and reprinted, to indulge the growing demand. What will be the effect and the end of this morbid appetite; whether, like many other diseases, it will work its own cure, or whether it will go on to increase as long as human society shall exist, are questions to the solution of which the friend of human happiness looks forward with deep solicitude.

It has often been made a question, whether romances and novels form an useful kind of reading, or the contrary? This question, fifty years ago, was of little moment compared with the importance which it has lately assumed. At that period the number of novels was small, and the popular classes of them sustained, in general, a tolerably pure moral character. Since that time, the case is, unhappily, altered; their number has increased, their character is so changed, and the task of discriminating among them has become so delicate and arduous, that the question above stated must now be regarded as one of the most interesting that can be asked, concerning the literary objects of the day, by the wise and affectionate parent, the faithful guardian, or the mind of general benevolence. It may not be improper, therefore, before taking leave of this singular feature in the history of the eighteenth century, to offer two or three brief remarks on the general tendency of the class of writings under consideration.

That fictitious history, when constructed on proper principles, and executed in a proper manner,

may be productive of utility, is a position too plain to be doubted. It is one of the most powerful means of exciting curiosity, of awakening sympathy, and of impressing the understanding and the heart. Such fiction "may do more good to many minds than the solemnities of professed morality, and convey the knowledge of vice and virtue with more efficacy than axioms and definitions." On this ground it was, no doubt, that the infinitely wise Author of our religion frequently adopted the form of parable for communicating the most important truths to his hearers. And, on the same principle, some of the wisest human teachers have used the vehicle of lively and interesting fiction, known to be such at the time, for insinuating into the mind moral and religious lessons, which, in a different form, might not so readily have gained admittance. It is obvious, then, that to this kind of writing, as such, there can be no solid objection. Novels may be so written as to promote the cause both of knowledge and virtue. They may be constructed in such a manner as will tend to lead the mind insensibly from what is sordid and mean to more worthy pursuits, and to fill it with pure, elevated and liberal sentiments. Nay, it may be further conceded, that, out of the myriads of novels which have been composed, a few are, in fact, entitled to this character, and have a tendency to produce these effects.

But it is evident, that a kind of writing which, when wisely and ingeniously executed, may be conducive to the best purposes, may also, in the hands of the unskilful or the wicked, produce the worst effects. If an artfully, conducted fiction be so well fitted to interest the curiosity, to awaken sympathy, and to impress the mind, then it follows that if this fiction be enlisted on the side of corrupt principle, or licentious practice, it must do

incalculable mischief. The question before us, therefore, must be solved by examining the influence of novels, not as they might and ought to be composed, but as they are found in fact to be written. We are not to assume for our standard the utility which would be derived from this species of writing, were it confined to the enlightened and virtuous; but the character and tendency of that heterogeneous mass which is daily accumulating from every quarter of the literary world.

What then is the general character of modern novels? The most favourable estimate that can be made stands thus:-Were the whole number which the age produced divided into a thousand parts, it is probable that five hundred of these parts would be found so contemptibly frivolous, as to render the perusal of them a most criminal waste of time. And though entirely destitute of character, yet so far as they are the objects of attention at all, they can do nothing but mischief. To devote the time and attention to works of this kind, has a tendency to dissipate the mind; to beget a dislike to more solid and instructive reading, and especially to real history; and, in general, to excite a greater fondness for the productions of imagination and fancy, than for the sober reasoning, and the practical investigations of wisdom.

Of the remaining five hundred parts, four hundred and ninety-nine may be considered as positively seductive and corrupting in their tendency. They make virtue to appear contemptible, and vice attractive, honourable and triumphant. Folly and crime have palliative and even commendatory names bestowed upon them; the omnipotence of love over all obligations and all duties is continually maintained; and the extravagance of sinful passion represented as the effect of amiable sensibility. Surely these representations can have no other ten

dency than to mislead, corrupt and destroy those who habitually peruse them, and especially those who give them a favourable reception.

But this is not the worst of the evil. A portion of this latter class of novels may be charged with being seductive and immoral on a more refined plan. They are systematic, and, in some instances, ingenious and plausible apologists for the most attrocious crimes. In many modern productions of this kind the intelligent reader will recognize the following process of representation. Corrupt opinions are put into the mouth of some favourite hero, the splendour of whose character, in other respects, is made to embellish the principles which he holds, and the force of whose eloquence is used to recommend the most unreasonable dogmas. When this hero commits a crime, and when by this crime, according to the fixed law of the Divine government, he is involved in serious difficulty, if not lasting misery, the fashionable novelist endeavours to throw the blame on the religious and moral institutions of the world, as narrow, illiberal and unjust. When a woman has surrendered her chastity, and prostituted herself to a vile seducer; and when she suffers in her reputation and her comfort by such base conduct, all this is ascribed to the wretched state of civilization," to the " deplorable condition of society!" Every opportunity is taken to attack some principle of morality under the title of a" prejudice;" to ridicule the duties of domestic life, as flowing from "contracted" and "slavish" views; to deny the sober pursuits of upright industry as "dull" and "spiritless;" and, in a word, to frame an apology for suicide, adultery, prostitution, and the indulgence of every propensity for which a corrupt heart can plead an incli

nation.

It only remains to speak of the one thousandth part not included in the classes already characterized. Of the greater portion of these the most favourable account that can be given is, that they are innocent and amusing compositions. But even with regard to a considerable number which have been commonly placed among the good and useful novels, a correct judge would scarcely be willing to pronounce them innocent without some qualification. After all these deductions, how small is the number of those which can be said to merit a perusal, or which can be considered as tending, in any tolerable degree, to enlighten the mind, or to promote the interests of virtue and happiness! So small, indeed, that out of the numerous volumes which a simple catalogue of the novels produced in the eighteenth century would fill, a single page would embrace all that could be with propriety recommended to the attention of the youthful mind.

Many novels which contain no licentious principles or indelicate descriptions, are still defective, inasmuch as they are not pictures of nature. When this is the case, though they be not chargeable with making a direct attack on the fortress of virtue, yet they are only fitted to mislead. To fill the mind with unreal and delusive pictures of life, is, in the end, to beguile it from sober duty, and to cheat it of substantial enjoyment. Were, all the mischief presented to our view which has been done to thoughtless, unsuspecting minds, by fictitious writings of this character, it would be found to form a mass of crime and misery too great for the ordinary powers of calculation.

But it is not enough that the fiction be true to nature. It may in no case depart from the probable and natural; every line may be drawn with a strict regard to the original character designed to be represented; the most transient beholder may