Now I lay me down to sleep,I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
Now I lay me down to sleep,I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
In short, the agitation was truly inexpressible, and fear distracted all. But on no countenance was this passion (mingled with a degree of amazement) more strikingly depicted than on that of the German Doctor, who, thus compelled to witness the object of a thousand cares, the greatest and most perfect result of his wonderful discovery, slipping off its pedestal and out of his hands, as by a stroke of enchantment, stared upon me with eyes, nose and mouth, speechless, rooted to the floor, and apparently converted into a mummy himself. As I stepped past him, however, hurrying to the door, with a vague idea that the sooner I reached it the better, his lips were unlocked, and his feelings found vent in a horrible exclamation—“Der tyfel!” which I believe means the devil—“Der tyfel! I have empalm him too well!”
Sheppard Lee now makes his way home into New Jersey (pursued however the whole way by the German Doctor, crying “Mein Gott! Ter Tyfel! and stop mine mummy!”) and is put to bed and kindly nursed after his disaster by his sister Prudence and her husband. It now appears (very ingeniously indeed) that, harassed by his pecuniary distress, our hero fell into a melancholy derangement, and upon cutting his foot with the mattock, as related, was confined to bed, where his wonderful transmigrations were merely the result of delirium. At least this is the turn given to the whole story by Prudence. Mr. Lee, however, although he partially believes her in the right, has still a shadow of doubt upon the subject, and has thought it better to make public his own version of the matter, with a view of letting every body decide for himself.
We must regard “Sheppard Lee,” upon the whole, as a very clever, and not altogether unoriginal,jeu d'esprit. Its incidents are well conceived, and related with force, brevity, and a species ofdirectnesswhich is invaluable in certain cases of narration—while in others it should be avoided. The language is exceedingly unaffected and (what we regard as high praise) exceedingly well adapted to the varying subjects. Some fault may be found with the conception of the metempsychosis which is the basis of the narrative. There are two general methods of telling stories such as this. One of these methods is that adopted by the author of Sheppard Lee. He conceives his hero endowed with some idiosyncracy beyond the common lot of human nature, and thus introduces him to a series of adventure which, under ordinary circumstances, could occur only to a plurality of persons. The chief source of interest in such narrative is, or should be, the contrasting of these varied events, in their influence upon a characterunchanging—except as changed by the events themselves. This fruitful field of interest, however, is neglected in the novel before us, where the hero, very awkwardly, partially loses, and partially does not lose, his identity, at each transmigration. The sole object here in the various metempsychoses seem to be, merely the depicting of seven different conditions of existence, and the enforcement of the very doubtful moral that every person should remain contented with his own. But it is clear that both these points could have been more forcibly shown, without any reference to a confused and jarring system of transmigration, by the mere narrations of seven different individuals. All deviations, especially wide ones, from nature, should be justified to the author by some specific object—the object, in the present case, might have been found, as above-mentioned, in the opportunity afforded of depicting widely-different conditions of existence actuatingoneindividual.
A second peculiarity of the species of novel to which Sheppard Lee belongs, and a peculiarity which isnotrejected by the author, is the treating the whole narrative in a jocular manner throughout (inasmuch as to say “I know I am writing nonsense, butthen you must excuse me for the very reason that I know it”) or the solution of the various absurdities by means of a dream, or something similar. The latter method is adopted in the present instance—and the idea is managed with unusual ingenuity. Still—having read through the whole book, and having been worried to death with incongruities (allowing such to exist) until the concluding page, it is certainly little indemnification for our sufferings to learn that, in truth, the whole matter was a dream, and that we were very wrong in being worried about it at all. The damage is done, and the apology does not remedy the grievance. For this and other reasons, we are led to prefer, in this kind of writing, thesecondgeneral method to which we have alluded. It consists in a variety of points—principally in avoiding, as may easily be done, thatdirectnessof expression which we have noticed in Sheppard Lee, and thus leaving much to the imagination—in writing as if the author were firmly impressed with the truth, yet astonished at the immensity, of the wonders he relates, and for which, professedly, he neither claims nor anticipates credence—in minuteness of detail, especially upon points which have no immediate bearing upon the general story—this minuteness not being at variance with indirectness of expression—in short, by making use of the infinity of arts which give verisimilitude to a narration—and by leaving the result as a wonder not to be accounted for. It will be found thatbizzarreriesthus conducted, are usually far more effective than those otherwise managed. The attention of the author, who does not depend upon explaining away his incredibilities, is directed to giving them the character and the luminousness of truth, and thus are brought about, unwittingly, some of the most vivid creations of human intellect. The reader, too, readily perceives and falls in with the writer's humor, and suffers himself to be borne on thereby. On the other hand what difficulty, or inconvenience, or danger can there be in leaving us uninformed of the important facts that a certain herodid notactually discover the elixir vitæ,could notreally make himself invisible, andwas noteither a ghost in good earnest, or a bonâ fide Wandering Jew?
HAZLITT'S REMAINS.
HAZLITT'S REMAINS.
Literary Remains of the Late William Hazlitt, with a Notice of his Life by his Son, and Thoughts on his Genius and Writings, by E. L. Bulwer, M. P. and Mr. Sergeant Talfourd, M. P. New York: Saunders and Otley.
There is a piquancy in the personal character and literary reputation of Hazlitt, which will cause this book to be sought with avidity by all who read. And the volume will fully repay a perusal. It embraces a Biographical Sketch of Mr. H. by his son; “Some Thoughts on his Genius” by Bulwer; “Thoughts on his Intellectual Character,” by Sergeant Talfourd; a few words of high compliment contained in a Letter to Southey from Charles Lamb; a Sonnet, by Sheridan Knowles, on Bewick's portrait of the deceased; six other sonnets to his memory, by “a Lady;” and twenty-two Essays by Hazlitt himself, and constituting his “Literary Remains.” The volume is embellished with a fine head of the Essayist, engraved by Marr, from a drawing by Bewick.
William Hazlitt, upon his decease in 1830, was 52 years old. He was the youngest son of the Reverend William Hazlitt, a dissenting Minister of the Unitarian persuasion. At the age of nine he was sent to a day-school in Wern, and some of his letters soon after this period evince a singular thirst for knowledge in one so young. At thirteen, his first literary effort was made, in the shape of an epistle to the “Shrewsbury Chronicle.” This epistle is signed in Greek capitalsEliason, and is a decently written defence of Priestley, or rather an expression of indignation at some outrages offered to the Doctor at Birmingham. It speaks of little, however, but the school-boy. At fifteen, he was entered as a student at the Unitarian College, Hackney, with a view to his education as a dissenting minister, and here his mind first received a bias towards philosophical speculation. Several short essays were written at this time—but are lost. Some letters to his father, however, which are printed in the present volume, give no evidence of more than a very ordinary ability. At seventeen, he left College (having abandoned all idea of the Ministry) and devoted himself to the study of painting as a profession—prosecuting his metaphysical reading at spare moments. At eighteen, he commenced the first rough sketch of a treatise “On the Principles of Human Action.” At twenty, accident brought him acquainted with Coleridge, whose writings and conversation had, as might be expected, great influence upon his subsequent modes of thought. At twenty-four, during the short peace of Amiens, he visited Paris with a view of studying the works of art in the Louvre. Some letters to his father written at this period, are given in the volume before us. They relate principally to the progress of his own studies in art, and are not in any manner remarkable. After spending a year in Paris he returned to London, abandoned, in despair, the pencil for the pen, and took up his abode temporarily, with his brother John, in Great Russell Street, Bloomsbury. His treatise “On the Principles of Human Action,” a work upon which he seems to have greatly prided himself, (perhaps from early associations) was now completed, after eight years of excessive labor. He was not, however, successful in finding a publisher until a year afterwards—he being then twenty-eight. This was in 1805. In 1806, he published a pamphlet with the title of “Free Thoughts on Public Affairs.” In 1807, he abridged to one volume Tucker's large work in seven—the “Light of Nature,” and wrote for Messrs. Longman and Co. a “Reply to Malthus's Works on Population.” In 1808, he married Miss Stoddart, sister of the present Chief Justice of Malta. By this lady, who still lives, he had several children, all of whom died in early childhood, except the Editor of these “Remains.” Shortly after his marriage, he went to live at Winterslow, in Wiltshire. An English Grammar, written about this period, was published some years afterwards. In 1808, he also published a compilation, entitled “The Eloquence of the British Senate, being a selection of the best Speeches of the most distinguished Parliamentary Speakers, from the beginning of the reign of Charles I to the present time.” We are told also, that in the autumn of this same year he was “engaged in preparing for publication his ‘Memoirs of Holcroft’”—the first seventeen chapters of this work were written by Holcroft himself.In 1811, Mr. Hazlitt removed to London and “tenanted a house once honored in the occupation of Milton.” In 1813, he delivered at the Russell Institution, a series of “Lectures upon the History and Progress of English Philosophy.” Shortly after this he became connected with the public press. For a short time he was engaged with the “Morning Chronicle” as a Parliamentary Reporter—but relinquished the occupation on account of ill health. He afterwards wrote political and theatrical criticisms for the “Champion,” the “Morning Chronicle,” the “Examiner,” and the “Times.” It was about this period, if we understand his biographer, that the collection of Essays appeared called “The Round Table.” Of these, forty were written by Mr. Hazlitt, and twelve by Leigh Hunt. In 1818, his Theatrical Criticisms were collected and published under the title of “A view of the English Stage.” In this year also, he delivered at the Surrey Institution a series of Lectures on the “Comic Writers, and the Poets of England,” and on the “Dramatic Literature of the age of Elizabeth.” These were subsequently published in single volumes under their respective titles. In 1819, the whole of his Political Essays appeared in one volume. His next published work was the “Characters of Shakspeare's Plays.” In 1823, Mr. Hazlitt was divorced from his wife under the law of Scotland—shortly before this epoch having given to the world “Liber Amoris,” a publication for many reasons to be regretted. In this same year appeared a “Critical Account of the Principal Picture Galleries of England”—also the first series of “Table-Talk,” in two volumes, consisting of Essays on various subjects, a few of which had previously appeared in the “London Magazine.” In 1824, Mr. H. married Isabella, widow of Lieut. Col. Bridgewater, a lady of some property; proceeding, after the wedding, on a tour through France and Italy. “Notes” of this journey appeared in the “Morning Chronicle,” and were afterwards collected in a volume. In 1825, appeared the second series of “Table-Talk,” and the “Spirit of the Age,” a series of criticisms on the more prominent literary men then living. In 1826, the “Plain Speaker” was published, and another edition of the “Table-Talk.” At this period, and for some years previous, Mr. Hazlitt was a frequent contributor to the “Edinburgh Review,” the “New Monthly,” “Monthly,” and “London” Magazines, and other periodicals. In 1829, he published “Selections from the British Poets,” and in 1830, “Northcote's Conversations,” the “Life of Titian,” (in which Mr. Northcote had a large share, and whose name, indeed, appeared as author on the title-page) and his chief work, “The Life of Napoleon,” in four volumes. In August of this year he was attacked by a species of cholera, and on the 18th of September he died. We are indebted for the facts in this naked outline of Mr. Hazlitt's life, principally to the memoir by his son in the volume before us. The Memoir itself bears upon its face so obvious and indeed so very natural an air of the most enthusiastic filial affection and admiration, that we are forced to place but little reliance upon the critical opinions it advances.
The “Thoughts on the Genius of William Hazlitt,” by Mr. Bulwer, differ in many striking points from the “Thoughts” by Sergeant Talfourd, on his “Intellectual Character.” We give the preference unhesitatingly to the noble paper of Talfourd—a brilliant specimen of accurate thinking and fine writing. The article of Bulwer, indeed, seems to be a compulsory thing—an effort probably induced by earnest solicitation—and no labor of love. Hazlitt, moreover, was personally unknown to him. Sergeant Talfourd, on the contrary, appears to write with a vivid interest in the man, and a thorough knowledge of his books. Nothing more fully than is here said, need be said, on the character, on the capacities, or on the works of Hazlitt, and nothing possiblycanbe said more happily or more wisely.
Of the Essays which constitute the body of the book before us, all have a relative—most of them a very high positive value. To American readers Hazlitt is principally known, we believe, as the Dramatic Critic, and the Lecturer on the Elder Poetry of England. Some of the papers in the present volume will prove the great extent and comprehensiveness of his genius. One on the “Fine Arts” especially, cannot fail of seizing public attention. Mr. Hazlitt discourses of Painting, as Chorley of Music. Neither have been equalled in their way. A fine passage of Hazlitt's on theidealcommences thus—
Theidealis not a negative, but a positive thing. The leaving out the details or peculiarities of an individual face does not make it one jot more ideal. To paint history is to paint nature as answering to a general, predominant, or preconceived idea in the mind, of strength, beauty, action, passion, thought, &c.; but the way to do this is not to leave out the details, but to incorporate the general idea with the details; that is, to show the same expression actuating and modifying every movement of the muscles, and the same character preserved consistently through every part of the body. Grandeur does not consist in omitting the parts, but in connecting all the parts into a whole, and in giving their combined and varied action; abstract truth or ideal perfection does not consist in rejecting the peculiarities of form, but in rejecting all those which are not consistent with the character intended to be given, and in following up the samegeneral ideaof softness, voluptuousness, strength, activity, or any combination of these, through every ramification of the frame. But these modifications of form or expression can only be learnt from nature, and therefore the perfection of art must always be sought in nature.
“The Fight” will show clearly how the writer of true talent can elevate even the most brutal of themes. The paper entitled “My first acquaintance with Poets,” and that headed “Of Persons one would wish to have seen,” have a personal interest apart from the abilities of the writer. The article “On Liberty and Necessity,” that “On Locke's Essay on the Human Understanding,” and that “On the Definition of Wit,” bear with them evidence of a truth but little understood, and very rarely admitted—that the reasoning powers never exist in perfection unless when allied with a very high degree of the imaginative faculty. In this latter respect, Hazlitt (who knew and acknowledged the fact) is greatly deficient. His argumentative pieces, therefore, rarely satisfy any mind, beyond that of the mere logician. As a critic—he is perhaps unequalled. Altogether he was no ordinary man. In the words of Bulwer, it may justly be said—that “a complete collection of his works is all the monument he demands.”
The illness of both Publisher and Editor will, we hope, prove a sufficient apology for the delay in the issue of the present number, and for the omission of many promised notices of new books.