rishes; that thus, being under the superintendance of no one parochial clergyman, the Society may have a pretence for clearing the whole district of its ecclesiastical heads, if they are inclined to oppose its machinations. As for the superior power of the Bishops in their respective Dioceses, this it seems never to consider; having m no one instance paid the least deference to episcopal authority, unless it was exerted in their favour; then indeed it has always been appealed to as of the greatest consequence. The mean and fawning adulation of the Society towards those prelates, who have been induced by its specious and plausible pretences to give it their support, is well contrasted by the editor, (p. 190, note p.) with. the contemptuous insolence which has marked its conduct towards those, who have refused to sanction its proceedings. The language and sentiments of its most valued and tried supporters, as there detailed, must be allowed to be an excellent exposition of the full meaning of that clearing away of ecclesiastical heads," to be accomplished by this new division of the empire into Auxiliary Districts.

We have seen, that these auxiliary and associated bodies are never established, without the most dangerous and delusive appeals, on their behalf, to the passions: they are delusive, as their object is to persuade the persons to whom they are addressed, that the objects and views of the Society are wholly good; that its operations are, and must be, most extensively beneficial ; and that their own religious sincerity will be estimated, nay, even their eternal reward determined, by the support which they give it: they are dangerous, not only to the parties themselves, from their deceit, but to the real welfare of the church, and the personal safety of many of its most zealous members; for they inflame the minds of their hearers against all who will not join the Society, representing them, by misapplied texts of Scripture, as the enemies of God and goodness, and as the great obstacles to the universal diffusion of religious knowledge throughout the world.

It appears, also, that this delusion is sedulously kept alive among the poor, (where perhaps it is most dangerous, as being most likely to lead to practical results) by the constant interference and exertions of the higher orders in the Society: the members of the superior committees being entitled to attend and vote at all the meetings of the inferior Associations. Vide p. 354, and note.

And now we might be justified in asking, whether such a system as this ought to be supported by Churchmen; whether enough had not been already disclosed to prove that the appreheusions of its opponents were not chimerical; that its character is not friendly to the Established Church, its influence not compatible

patible with her safety? But we have yet important matter to bring forward, matter, which will set this question even in a clearer light than it is already placed. The Editor has shewn us the models upon, which the Society has framed the powerful system on which it acts: he has traced its similarity to former de Jusive and injurious combinations, in its object, in its constitution, and in its measures; and we shall endeavour to lay before our readers a brief abstract of the result of his investigation in cur next number which will conclude this article.

ART. IV. The History of Fiction; being a critical Account of the most celebrated Prose Works of Fiction. By John Dunlop. 3 vols. 11. 11s. 6d. Longman and Co. 1814.

THERE are probably many who will be of opinion that three volumes, professedly filled with a narrative of the progress and character of fiction, afford some evidence of what is frequently urged against the present age, that it is an age of reading, but of easy acquiescence in the intellectual entertainment provided, and gifted with little delicacy of discrimination between the profitable and the useless, the rationally instructive, and the purely entertaining. If the table is only plentifully spread, it is of little importance whether the literary food be empty or solid; nutritious or unsubstantial. We have so much respect for the opinion of such of our readers, that it may not be unseasonable to preface our observations on the book before us with a very brief exposition of our reasons for thinking that neither this work, nor most of an apparently unproductive nature, are either unworthy of attention, or incapable of suggesting any new ideas, or useful trains of thought.

In the first place, the time occupied in the perusal of such works is not nearly so great as some are inclined to imagine. A man does not necessarily acquire the character of a superficial reader because he omits much, reads much hastily, much without reflection; only dwelling on such parts of most books which fall under his inspection, as either in their expression or tendency excite his attention, or coincide with lis peculiar habits of thought. Most publications contain more or less unprofitable and uninteresting matter; and to plod through the whole desert for the sake of one fertile oasis, is as unnecessary as to reject the whole on account of the sterility of some parts of the prospect.

prospect. A man of tact, if it is allowable to use an expres▾ sion rendered somewhat ridiculous by the affected use which is frequently made of it, will see at once where he is to fix his attention, and where to relax it; and though he may sometimes overlook a single beauty, which the more minute reader painfully acquires, yet his opportunities of adding to his general fund of knowledge are so indefinitely increased, that his loss and gain bear no assignable proportion. A single example may serve to illustrate our meaning. Steele, and even many of the essays of Addison, may be read by a glance; a page of Johnson or of Berkeley will afford topics of long and attentive meditation, and supply a train of interesting discussion for the mind, when the book which suggested them is closed. There may be nothing better than the eloquence of South, or the reasoning of Barrow, but eloquence and reasoning may at times be unseasonable; neither would the advantage which the mind receives from such strong composition be equally perceptible, if it were never suf, fered to expand upon fighter, and, under certain limitations, more desultory writing. There are readers who profess to find no amusement in Byron or Scott, while Dryden and Pope are at their command. But surely it is rather a proof of fastidiousness than delicacy, to neglect the good, because it is not the best; of partiality and bigotry, not of fair preference and conviction, to throw aside whatever falls beneath an imaginary test of merit; and to deny it any of the beauties of a master, because it has not all his merit. This appears to us a method of calculation founded on very unfair principles. Every work which sinks a scruple below the highest standard, is not necessarily base metal, and he alone is able to weigh which is of most intrinsic worth who has measured and compared the pretensions of all. Every feature, whether of physical or of intellectual beauty, admits of comparative proportions; and why should that mind, which has showered unlimited incense on the shrine of perfection, refuse to pay a more measured tribute of applause to that lower degree of excellence, which wants something to complete the acknow ledged lineaments and finished outline of a model.

It is by no means uncommon to hear a calculation made of the number of hours which the perusal of such and such books would require; during which time such and such things, more useful certainly, or more necessary, might be done. We believe that there may be one in a hundred readers who may use this argument without incurring a suspicion that the hours, which are thus arithmetically subtracted from superfluous literature, are devoted to less profitable or less innocent studies and pursuits. It is not, therefore, to the gifted few that our observations are addressed, but to that crowd who have both leisure, and what is

termed

termed in common language, usually the most expressive, a turn for reading. Let us not be misunderstood in the use of the word leisure. Leisure is neither vacuity of mind, nor absence of occupation. We may have leisure in the midst of business, we may have none in total idleness. It may depend on inclination or resolution; if it does not offer, it does not conceal itself; if it must be sought, it may generally be found. Many men have no leisure for reading while they have any thing else which they can possibly do. Many, actively employed in life, have abundant leisure during the intermissions of business, or in those occasional minutes which so few seize upon and know how to appreciate. An active mind is aware that its time is nearly as unlimited as its objects of research; and frequently astonishes those who have inferior powers of application, fewer habits of method, or less necessity for husbanding their hours, by the multifarious pursuits which may be followed at once with equal energy and advantage.

It must not be imagined, that while we are advocates for general reading, we are defending the cause either of superficial knowledge, or desultory habits. It is neither necessary to scour the plain with Camilla, nor to plod over it with melancholy steps and slow, like the traveller who feels that he is leaving that for which he can find no compensatory pleasures in the scenes before him. To be a general reader, it is only necessary to have some portion of quickness of discernment, in order to judge where it is advantageous to pass on rapidly, where to pause for reflection; and some talent for arrangement, that information, however acquired, may not lie loose in the mind, or in the common-place book; inefficient and useless, because it can never be produced at the right time, or in the proper manner. Gifted moderately with these two qualifications, a man may read every thing with profit; without them, nothing.

Having made this confession of our sentiments, in deference to those who may be inclined to condemn, at first sight, a history of fiction, and the works of which it professes to give some account, we hasten to give some outline of Mr. Dunlop's plan, and the manner of its execution. His object, in his own words, is to afford a delineation" of the origin and progress of Fiction, of the various forms which it has successively assumed, and the different authors by whom it has been most successfully cultivated and promoted." It will immediately be seen that views of some detached parts of fictitious composition were not wanting ; but the chief merit of the plan arises from the means which it affords of comprehending, by one rapid glance, the progressive advance of this branch of literature, from the carliest Greek romances to the novels of the present day;-remarking, as the eye

passes

passes over this general map, the change of manners, of feeling, of philosophy, of religion, which individually or collectively have contributed to the gradual alterations observable in the course of the detail. It will be obvious that such a developement of the transmission of fable from one age and country to another, affords no imperfect means of tracing the progress of the human mind; an enquiry in itself interesting and valuable; but neither so valuable, nor so interesting, nor so comprehensive, as that acquaintance with the habits of thinking and manners of living of progressive ages, which, as is well remarked, is chiefly discoverable in the fictions of the respective periods.

"By contemplating the fables of a people, we have a successive delineation of their prevalent modes of thinking, a picture of their feelings, and tastes, and habits. In this respect, prose fiction appears to possess advantages considerably superior either to history or poetry. In history there is too little individuality; in poetry too much effort, to permit the poet and the historian to pourtray the manners living as they rise. History treats of man, as it were, in the mass, and the individuals whom it paints are regarded merely, or principally, in a public light, without taking into consideration their private feelings, tastes, or habits. Poetry is in general capable of too little detail, while its paintings, at the same time, are usually too much forced and exaggerated. But in fiction we can discriminate without impropriety, and enter into detail with- ' out meanness." Vol. I. Introd. ix.

It does not appear that the importance thus attached to narratives of imaginary persons or things is overrated, and they will be least disposed to think it so, who recollect the ferment excited by a novel supposed to contain a picture of fashionable life, or a tale which conveyed, in the attractive form of a history of natural events, opinions which were least expected to be promulgated in the disguise of a narrative. The Nouvelle Heloise, Caleb Williams, and Coelebs, will not be useless documents in the hands of some future historian of our own age.

A few words must be said on the morality inculcated by works of imagination. The author of the volumes before us justly thinks that what we are called on to do and suffer, will be better taught by example than by abstract propositions and dry discussion; but perhaps attributes too much power to the novelist, if he conceives that virtue can be effectually promoted, or vice successfully checked, by the influence of a fictitious narrative. The death of Lovelace, though strikingly just, is little calcu lated to afford an admonishing lesson against the triumphs of his life. It appears to us, that in estimating the value of works of fiction, as a means of conveying lessons of instruction, too little distinction is made between morality and religion. The duty of chastity