Of the various species of composition that in course come before us, there are none in which our writers of the male sex have less excelled, since the days of Richardson and Fielding, than in the arrangement of a novel. Ladies seem to appropriate to themselves an exclusive privilege in this kind of writing; witness the numerous productions of romantic tales to which female authors have given birth. The portraiture of the tender passions, the delicacy of sentiment, and the easy flow of style, may, perhaps, be most adapted to the genius of the softer sex: but however that may be, politeness, certainly, will not suffer us to dispute this palm with our fair competitors. We, though of the harder sex, as men, and of a still harder race as critics, are no enemies to an affecting well-told story: but as we are known not to be very easily pleased, it may be imagined that those performances only will obtain the sanction of our applause, which can stand the test of certain criteria of excellence.
The story of a novel should be formed of a variety of interesting incidents; a knowlege of the world, and of mankind, are essential requisites in the writer; the characters should be always natural; the personages should talk, think, and act, as becomes their respective ages, situations, and characters; the sentiments should be moral, chaste, and delicate; the language should be easy, correct, and elegant, free from affectation, and unobscured by pedantry; and the narrative should be as little interrupted as possible by digressions and episodes of every kind: yet if an author chuses to indulge, occasionally, in moral reflections, in the view of blending instruction with amusement, we would not wish, altogether, to frustrate so good a design:—but, that his precepts may obtain the utmost efficacy, [Page 401]we would recommend them to be inserted in those periods of the history, where the reader's curiosity can most patiently submit to suspense.
Having thus given a sketch of what a novel should be to please us, we proceed to the work which has given occasion to these remarks.
This novel, then, consists of a series of letters between the Hon. Mr. Wilton and his friend Mr. Benfield. Mr. Wilton is the son of Lord Wilton, a cruel, avaritious, despotic parent, who wishes to force his son into a marriage, (extremely against his inclinations,) with Miss Silvertop, a young lady of large fortune: the parties are introduced to each other, and are left alone for the purpose of making love; when, unluckily, the gentleman begins by asking the young lady, which are her favourites among the dramatic authors. Miss Silvertop, not having been instructed in her literary catechism, stares, and seems not to comprehend him. He is not, however, discouraged: but pursues his learned inquiries, till at last the young lady betrays such a total want of erudition, that Mr. Wilton, completely disgusted, resolves, in defiance of all paternal injunctions, to decline the marriage. Lord Wilton is in great wrath, utters dreadful imprecations, and even curses his son, who runs out of the house, gets into a stage coach, and arrives at Morpeth in Northumberland; where he becomes enamoured of a beautiful young lady, named Olivia. Mr. Fennel, one of Olivia's lovers, is jealous of Mr. Wilton, and sends him a challenge; a duel ensues—Mr. W. disarms and wounds his antagonist; who is so enraged, that he insists on being dead, that Mr. W. may be hanged:—the latter is therefore, with all due formality, ushered into a prison: but Mr. Fennel, having reported falsely of himself that he was dead, and being taken alive, Mr. Wilton is released from his confinement, and marries Olivia; who proves to be another Miss Silvertop. The old Lord, who had determined an alliance with the family of the Silvertops, recalls his curses, and changes them into blessings; and a happy union likewise takes place, with regard to an episodical pair, whose adventures serve to diversify the work:—which here naturally concludes.
In regard to the general character of Mr. Thomson's performance, it certainly is not void of merit. The volumes abound with pious and moral reflections, not unworthy the pen of a clergyman: but we should have admired this piety and this morality still more, had the language (especially of the earlier letters,) been less verbose, and the style less stiffened with hard words. Terms of the same signification are frequently [Page 402]coupled together2 : a mode of writing rather suitable to an indenture than a book of entertainment; and peculiarly inconsistent with the natural case and freedom of the epistolary style.
Notwithstanding the impropriety of the language of some parts of this work, for it is not uniformly thus censurable, the story has not failed to interest us in the perusal; and it would be great injustice to the sensible writer, if we did not speak of his performance as entitled to a considerable degree of distinction above the common crowed—the canaille of modern romances and novels.
The leading moral purpose of this work, is to expose the unreasonableness, absurdity, and tyranny, of parents who usurp an absolute authority over their children, in respect of their matrimonial engagements; forcing all natural affection, and every prospect of happiness from that source, to give way to the calls of avarice or ambition.—This is a beaten path, which has been trodden by almost every novellist and dramatic writier;—who, we are happy to think, have successively encountered a monster which is now seldom seen but in their performances.