Abbildungen der Seite
PDF
EPUB

I read it last week at my father's. It is full of interest. Indeed, it seems to me so diffusive, it might have formed two books; and I should have liked it better if all that Socinian trash had been extracted, to form a tit-bit for such as delight in the monstrous crudities of the dimsighted infidel."

Annie looked surprised, and rather sheepish. She read hard words, but did not always understand them; and could not quite guess the cause of the vehemence of Mr. Murray's last words. How much I hated that young man from that minute, and I felt my purple binding crack with rage at his remarks!

"Do you think Miss Martineau an infidel?" Annie at length asked, timidly.

"Do I think!" he said, rudely enough, snatching up my first volume, and turning over my pages rapidly. "What do you think of talking of Moses and Plato as you would of Smith of Baliol and Grant of Merton, and making comparisons between them? The very divinely-associated Being, from whom, whatever Miss Martineau may think, she alone gains her very limited notions of a Supreme Being, is held in juxtaposition with one, whose wisdom, great as it was, never raised one poor soul from off this sin-cursed earth."

The shoe dropped from Emma's industrious fingers, and Annie looked very frightened as she said, anxiously,

"Is the book wicked?"

[ocr errors]

"Decidedly!" he said, pushing it from him; and, to change the subject and get nearer Emma, asked her to sing. How I should have liked to have been thrown at that young man's bead, in all the weight of my boards and extra duodecimo! I was not again looked at while in Ayling Vicarage. By general consent the sisters agreed not to tell their father, who was their only parent, that Annie had chosen a wicked book; and he, poor man, was at that time too much occupied to guess either at the existence or cause of the secret.

The time at length arrived for me to be forwarded to Mr. Newera, the surgeon of Knighton. My spirits rose as I was borne through the surgeon's hall. Every thing showed much taste, with a smack of the Egyptian, which flattered my prevailing feelings. No great coats, or umbrellas, or clogs, vexed the sight. A few terra-cotta vases, with myrtles and roses, stood beneath each column; and though these vases, and all the porphyry, marble, and bronzes of the hall, had sprung from the brush of Mr. Putti, the plumber of Knighton, I had learned from my mother's reverence for Egyptian paintings too much respect for infant art to find fault with the counterfeit. I was not taken to the drawing-room-the unities were better

understood at Mr. Newera's; and I was lodged in the library, owing some clever oak to the genius Putti, with relics from every quarter of the globe,-from a bust of Faustina to the necklace of an Esquimaux. There was also a finely bleached skeleton in a case lined with velvet, and which the displacement of a curtain by the wind made visible. The sight made every leaf of me vibrate; and I fully shared my mother's respect for the good taste of the post-creation kings of Egypt, who never allowed such horrid things to transpire.[Query-Did they know anything of the unpleasant-looking framework on which mankind are built? I never saw the inkling of a joint in any Egyptian design.]—I was welcomed with gladness by Mrs. Newera. She read my title-page; she looked at the list the secretary had inserted; eulogized Mr. Arden as a charming, liberal old parson, and forthwith commenced my perusal. I never could be read in better style; she scarcely left me; she copied bits of me; she wrote letters full of me; she illustrated me; and had just finished a fancy sketch of one of the picturesque halting places my mother had described, with camels and Arabs, even to the sheik's javelin stuck in the ground, when Mr. Murray was announced. It seemed to me, to use booklanguage, that he had turned over a new leaf; for he praised the well-done drawing and the truth of the costumes, expressing admiration also of the graphic pen with which my mother had described them.

'I never dreamt of hearing you praise this work," Mrs. Newera said; adding, archly, “I felt rather inclined to smuggle it into my worktable as you entered."

"I do not praise it," Mr. Murray said, in the old dogmatic tone I so much objected to. "I think it well written, but at the same time, as mischievous and detestable a work as could have crept into a book-club,-with this additional odium attached to it, that it has crept in under false colors. Who looks for all this jargon of English Deists and German Rationalists in a book purporting to relate Eastern Travels?"

I think you are unjust as far as regards false colors," Mrs. Newera said, quietly." Miss Martineau's name might give any one an idea of what they are to find."

"People

"No, no," Mr. Murray replied. in the country are not so generally informed on all matters as your clever self. If Miss Martineau had added Unitarian' to her name in the title-page, I would grant it the sort of negative virtue which I might to the notice

[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]

Dangerous,' placed by a road surveyer on a rickety bridge. People could avoid the book

and the bridge. But I still require more. As Miss Martineau dares to attack the great points of the faith of the country she lives in, she should have given her book the title which would have announced the impious and offensive contents."

[ocr errors]

"In spite of all you say," Mrs. Newera replied, while a little pink ear beneath her curls showed some embarrassment at thus bearding her directeur, "I must confess that I gladly study a work which, like this, leads one to think and to seek the truth." Mr. Murray cracked all his knuckles as he repeated with a scornful emphasies, Truth!" He then added quickly, "What truth do you mean? Chemical, botanical, physiological, astronomical, or geological truth? Surely Miss Martineau leads to none of these! And if it is religious truth you mean, still worse. There is but one Book which teaches it with anything like authority, and in that sure word. of testimony we are to seek it, and not from those who, professing a qualified regard for revelation, abjure vulgar Orthodoxy for the novelties of German Neology, or that oldfashioned heresy, Socinianism."

"I think, however, that you must admit that there are difficulties in the doctrines of Christianity to which a zealous inquirer into truth does well to direct our attention."

Mrs. Newera said this with a little appearance of anger at this young man's pertinacity. "Not in the spirit in which Miss Martineau conducts the business," he replied, sharply. "Her prejudices start up every moment, making one apply to her case what Carlyle said of Voltaire, He ardently warred against Christianity, without understanding, beyond the mere superficies, what Christianity was.' But you do confess that there are diffculties?" Mrs. Newera inquired.

[ocr errors]

"None to those who are accustomed to inquire only what revelation has actually taught, and who then submit their reason to that revelation, without presuming to speculate on the causes, fitness, or inscrutable mysteries connected with the discoveries made to man by that revelation. The doctrines of Christianity, as well as those of the Mosaical dispensation, are only difficult to the minds of those who, assenting to the evidences of revelation as sufficient to warrant its reception, suppose themselves invested with the power of rejecting the conclusions thus supported by evidence, if their reason cannot comprehend them, or if they are opposed to their preconceived notions of what might, probably, be expected from a divine revelation."

"You are tremendously professional," Mrs. Newera remarked, feigning a yawn. "But,

Mr. Murray, if, amidst what you call the evidences of revelation, an acute mind perceives where history and what may be termed myth blend, surely it were slavish or bigoted to desist from reasoning on a point which so strikes one's perceptions?"

"Where men may reason men may err, Mrs. Newera; and what has Miss Matineau, to do with myths? All her notions of them are gleaned from others, and I could give you a list of all the books from which she culls her pet poisons, crowning it with her last studied work, the Hebrew Monarchy, more dangerous than her own, because attempting more. No, if Miss Martineau must work at myths, let her attempt to detach fable from truth in the history of Mother Hubbard's dog. But I have made you angry," Mr. Murray added, rising; "and it makes me angry to think of an old woman sitting down in the full blaze of day, and, because she holds an umbrella between herself and the sun, wishing to persuade herself and others that the sun has nothing to do with the light which she enjoys."

How glad I was that this impertinence was put a stop to by the entrance of visitors! and how glad I was to find that the next name in my carte de voyage was that of a county magistrate, residing, at least, seven miles from Knighton, and so beyond the reach of this crusading curate. Squire Fortescue, his lady, two daughters, and a son, all turned me over as I lay on the drawing-room table, though novels and periodicals seemed to them " metal more attractive." Still, they certainly set up for literary people, and occasionally discussed my merits,in that vague way, however, that it was I only who knew how little of my contents had arrived at their knowledge. They had the same power of fixing on salient parts of the narrative, that a Highlander has of springing to the jutting rocks in a mountain stream. They knew of my mother's walks in the desert of fourteen miles a-day, which they affected to disbelieve. They knew who the Russian countess was, who had evinced almost as much enthusiasm in a Christian temple as my mother had shown in a heathen one. They knew of the greatness thrust on "Mr. E." by the exacting sheik, which they persisted in considering an episode, inserted as a set-off to the task she had imposed on him of reading the unpublished journal,-a sugar-plum with a pill, in fact. How tired I got of these people! And, strange to say, they paid a shilling fine for detaining me beyond the time I was allotted to pass with them. At length I was released, and got into another cozy vicarage. How congenial to my feelings was the first fortnight I spent there! I was read without

comment, but with intense attention; while Herodotus, Hengstenberg, Gliddon, Heeren, Cory's Chronology, and other learned works, were constantly referred to. I heard no opinion passed upon me, until, one evening, the vicar, entering from a ramble, addressed his wife, who was holding my last volume in her hand, with the question,

Why do you look so serious, Mary? "I have just finished Miss Martineau's book," she replied; "and I was half wishing, half praying, that a strong, crushing refutation of all these errors, may appear in the next Review. Am I wrong ?

[ocr errors]

I pricked up my cars for the answer,dog's-ears, be it known, which the Fortescues had left on my pages; however, the answer was not very pleasant.

66

[ocr errors][merged small][merged small]

You are as severe as I wished the reviewer to be," Mrs. Denyer said, smiling.

[ocr errors]

I have greater cause for spleen," he answered.

"Here is a book, incontestably of an evil tendency, by some strange mischance going the round of a book-club, chiefly composed of clergymen, for the amusement of whose families | these books are principally circulated. And ¦ though I feel that Mr. Arden can hardly be aware of the dangerous character of the book he has thus sent round to shed its poison, still, as a stranger, I experience a delicacy in hinting it to him. However, the book goes tohigh-morrow to Yeldon Castle; before it gets again into young hands, I will try and see Mr. Murray. He is intimate with the Ardens, and may devise some plan."

Your enmity is quite justified. This is decidedly a most mischievous book.”

66

Mischievous! How I abhor an epithet so universally applied to unruly pot-boys, mettled monkeys, and Chartist speeches! "It is no small calamity for a living man to be robbed of a living faith," Mr. Denyer continued; and Miss Martineau has attempted the robbery in a wanton and covert manner. She has thrown the glove, however, and I, too, hope that a champion may be found in Christendom to pick it up. If Miss Martineau had shown half the sympathy for the Christian which she has for the Egyptian idolator, the Jewish deist, the Mahomedan votary, one might have marvelled at the extent of her blindness, to whom light is no light; but blindness is all one should have brought against her. But there is a decided spirit of antagonism towards Christianity, under the specious guise of a well-told tale of personal adventure, which calls for some demonstration in return. There is, also, much inconsistency in her book; for while, by her words, she virtually accuses of imposture the Divine Being she so affectedly, and therefore irreverently calls the Teacher,' she still shows a qualified devotion. And though she seems to look on the Almighty's dealings with His people through Moses and his Antitype as a salutary cheat, of which she and some others are cognizant,-thus instituting herself a sort of juggler's confederate, still she appears to own a heart equal to the worship of the Omnipotence, whose powers she so vainly tries to circumscribe."

[ocr errors]

6

'Poor Miss Martineau!" Mrs. Denyer said, sorrowfully. "She certainly has some better aspirations, shown, I think, by her interest in Jerusalem, which, even in by-gone ycars, has made her familiar with its locality."

"I differ with you there," Mr. Denyer replied. "Do you recollect reading of a book

I was sent to Yeldon Castle, and there found one of my brothers, sent down by Churton. I had no opportunity of inquiring into the nature of his treatment. The countess opened my title-page, and then gave orders for me to be forwarded to General Gascoigne. She said something to the earl about "straining at i gnats and swallowing camels;" and that half the credulity which fostered a belief in mesmerism might establish a tolerably warm disciple of Johanna Southcote; but as I was not obliged to take such general reflections as addressed to my respected mother, I gave no heed to them.

General Gascoigne commenced reading me with as much vigor as forty years passed in India had left him. I was placed on a readingdesk before him; the bell-pull was fastened to his chair, and silence reigned throughout the apartment. I fancied I was approved; but ¡ felt a little startled when the old general suddenly gave a violent twitch to the bell.

[ocr errors]

Send Miss Gascoigne down," was the brief order given.

In five seconds a timid-looking girl appeared at the door.

66

Miss Gascoigne, the author of this book defends the worship of cats and other minor animals; you will be so good, when you read the passage, to repeat at the same time the fourth verse of the 20th chapter of Exodus."

Miss Gascoigne bowed and withdrew. The general's studies were resumed: again the bell was rung, and Miss Gascoigne appeared to order.

i

[ocr errors]

"Miss Gascoigne, though the author of this work, with a commendable tenderness for the feelings of the people she is among, veils her face, that she may not startle the prejudices of the chance African in her path, she scruples not to offend the equally harmless prejudices of the majority of her own countrymen, by irreverent remarks on all they hold holy. Yes, Miss Gascoigne, she does not hesitate, on the hypothesis that the sacred Scriptures are a collection of myths or legends, to banish God from His creation, destroy the notion of a Providence, and give the lie to the Law and the Prophets. Miss Gascoigne, when you peruse this book, please to repeat the nineteenth verse of the twenty-second chapter of Revelation, and to consider that it applies to the whole of scripture."

The next day Miss Gascoigne was not summoned to the library. People little know how much a day's quiet reading repays one for the agony of the printing-press. On the third day, again she was sent for; again she stood at the door in mute attention.

"Miss Gascoigne," the general commenced, "the author of this work seems disposed to undervalue the Christian religion, on the score of the greater number of converts made to Mahomedanism. She is apparently not aware that the regions of the East would number miles with European inches; and that if there is anything to scatter, the wider the field, the wider must the object be scattered. But there are further reasons for the inequality she misinterprets, which, with my slight acquaintance with the East, I could at once explain, when the opportunity may occur. Miss Gascoigne, I wish, however, to make one remark to you. A tailor advertises tight-fitting suits, which admit of no relaxation of position, and confine the wearer to an entire new attitude. Wrinkle or spot would be disgracefully conspicuous on these clothes, which allow of no letting out or taking in; which, in short, when once adopted, must be the same yesterday, to-day, and forever. Another artisan in apparel, advertises a loose-hanging garment, which can be wore over any other threadbare habit. Formed of a material warranted not to show dirt, and on which even blood-spots are not easily seen, it is a garment in which you may eat, drink, and sleep; and though not unbecoming, from the prevalence of the mode, it may be worn large enough to wrap round a man and as many wives as he can afford to keep. Miss Gascoigne, I would ask you one question, Which tailor, do you imagine, would procure the quickest custom-the vendor of the tight fitting, easily-blemished suit, or that of the cheap loose garment, warranted not to spot?"

[ocr errors]

Miss Gascoigne considered the last would sell fastest.

you

'Very well," said the imperturbable general, "when read Miss Martineau's comparative view of the converts to Christianity and to Mahomedism, please to bear in mind the irksomeness of a tight coat and the comforts of a paletot, or what in my time was emphatically called, a wrap-rascal.

Thus proceeded General Gascoigne's study of my precious pages. Every little novelty, every Socinian eccentricity, every bold thought, borrowed from Rosenmüller or others, was as quickly confided to Miss Goscoigne with what the General conceived an antiseptic remark from himself. At length he rang the bell more violently than ever; and, scarcely waiting for the appearance of his daughter at the door, exclaimed,

66

Miss Gascoigne, the author of this work knocks under. She has visited and left Damascus, without presuming to touch upon the conversion of St. Paul. If she admits that, and the authenticity of his epistles, the poor thing may still take her place among the worshippers of the Trinity."

[ocr errors]

Instead of making my way into Miss Gascoigne's study, I was rather surprised to find myself one morning reversing the order of book-clubs, and making a retrograde movement back to Ayling Vicarage. If I was astonished, Mr. Arden was a little more so on reading the note which accompanied me.

Gen. Gascoigne's compliments to Rev. John Arden, and hopes, for the sake of the younger part of the Knighton Book-club, and of Christianity in general, that he will take some measures to withdraw Eastern Life from the club.

Mr. Arden turned the note in his hand as maidens do valentines, and then called his daughter. At the very moment she came running to him with her hand full of letters she had just taken from the postman. "I am sure, papa, here is an invitation from Yeldon Castle," she said. Do open it."

[ocr errors]

The indulgent old vicar forgot the general in his desire to oblige his child, and read aloud,

Dear Mr. Arden, - I do think Eastern Life a very objectionable book. For the sake of the young people, whose opinions are not so well confirmed as your dear girls' may be, do you not think it would be better to withdraw it from the club? Ever sincerely yours,

C. Yeldon.

Annie shook from head to foot. Emma, who had joined the party to inspect the letters, knew not how to assist her in this dilemma. A dark cloud passed over Mr. Arden's brow, but

he said nothing, while opening a note almost | Murray just then recollected his brother, a mechanically. He started, and looking angrily at Annie, as he read,

[ocr errors]

Dear Sir, I hope on hearing of the sensation which Eastern Life has caused in our bookclub, you will exempt me from all participation in the ill-tempered things said respecting it. I admire the book as much as I do your liberality of idea in bespeaking it. Yours truly,

[ocr errors]

66

PHRYNE NEWERA.

Oh, papa, do not look at me so!" the poor girl exclaimed. We were afraid to tell you what a wicked book it is."

At this moment Mr. Murray was announced. After a hurried greeting, he asked to speak to Mr. Arden alone; and then informed him he came from Mr. Denyer on the subject of Eastern Life, then going the circuit of the book-club. What a conglomeration of persecution! and how sick I was of all the phrases banales thrown at me! Suffice it to say, Mr.

student at Göttingen, had sent to him for a copy of Eastern Life; so my identical self was precisely what he wanted. My place was to be filled by the Queens of England; and the sisters were to be well scolded for their want of candor respecting "Annie's wicked book."

with a schnapps besprinkled cover, and a cigar I am inditing this lament from Göttingen, marking my most spicy page. I live among congenial spirits; still I feel it banishment, i and lack the spirit with which Coriolanus viewed the same circumstances. My Magna Mater may have more of the Roman, and hear but "the common cry of curs," in the voices which discard the poor offspring from the Christian's library; if not, and this, my Lament, should reach her, perhaps she will devise some plan to keep my brethren out of country bookclubs; or, at least, get up some editions as shoemakers do boots, for " country wear." Fraser's Magazine.

Translated for the Daguerreotype.

SKETCHES TAKEN DURING A SUMMER RAMBLE.

I. NEAR REGENSBURG.

BY EDWARD BOAS.

A broad stream winds in a very circuitous course through a green and fertile valley. Against the horizon are marked the towers of an ancient city. Along the left bank of the river there is a range of rocky heights, which are for the most part covered with low brushwood. As you follow this range with your eye, you perceive that on leaving the city it is composed of calcarious limestone; at a bend in the river this formation suddenly breaks off, and the remainder is dark-colored granite. The geologist stands at this spot, and, as he muses upon the phenomenon, strives to solve the great problein of the formation of the earth.

On the summit of two neighboring peaks of granite are two buildings which form a strange contrast. Here we behold a gray, crumbling ruin, which dates from the middle ages. Its massive towers are broken; green vegetation bursts out from between the huge stones; the stairs have disappeared; and the blue sky and the golden sun shine freely into the wide, roofless halls. Close by, upon the

brow of another hill, there rises up, white, new, and glittering, a superb Grecian temple. Lofty, magnificent columns support the roof; a splendid ascent of stone steps leads up to the entrance; all the skill of Hellenic art has been expended upon this architectural masterpiece.

But how do these two buildings, so different in their characters, come into such close proximity? Are they to be the stage for a gigantic representation of Goethe's Helen? Does Faust, the dark son of German romanticism, dwell in the deserted ruin? Has Helen, the most perfect representation of Grecian beauty, taken up her abode in the glittering temple?No, the old castle is called Regenstauf; the new pile of columns is the Walhalla of King Louis of Bavaria. The towers in the background belong to Regensburg, and the stream that winds through the valley is the Danube.

Some small figures were slowly moving up the enormous steps which lead to the Walhalla. Seen from the valley they must have looked like flies, for the hill is high; but a nearer approach would have shown them to be human beings, and I too was among them.

« ZurückWeiter »