At a period when the crowd of novels issued almost daily from the press, threatens serious injury to the literature of the age, not only by withdrawing men of high natural capacities from the arduous study of graver and more important subjects, but by throwing before the public such a mass of matter, that unless they be neglected, (which from their seductive character is not likely to be the case,) nothing else can be read, it is of the highest importance, that an elevated standard should be fixed by which to measure these productions. The popular objection so often urged against this species of literature, is not without some foundation in truth; and the only mistake made by those who have brought it forward, consists in applying to the species, that which is true only in individual cases. The influence of these fictitious histories, from the rude form of the early romance, down to the brilliant productions of the best writers of the present century, has been, however, on the whole, advantageous to general literature, and of the most humanizing effect upon society. Nothing could betray more silly ignorance, than to contrast this class of authors with those who have chosen higher and more essentially important subjects; and because law, and philosophy, and mathematics, may be in themselves, of a deeper interest and more universal value, to regret the time and talent devoted to this elegant and refining department of letters, as so much labor and opportunity thrown away. So far from being wasted, we question, if even the most brilliant discoveries in science, have contributed as much to the comfort and enjoyment of society. It would be difficult to calculate the actual amount of moral good, that may have been effected by the constant holding up to the young and ardent, but plastic mind, the bright and winning examples of female loveliness and manly virtue, that abound in these popular and ever attractive volumes. And those who underrate their powerful influence, know little of the actual workings of the human heart—of the secret influences that direct, for good or for evil, the wayward thoughtfulness of the young. The whole class of romances, then, viewed as a means of forming individual character, must assume in the eyes of the moralist and statesman, an importance far beyond their intrinsic value, as literary works; and it is the forgetting of the ulterior and vastly more interesting purpose which they serve, in the general economy of society, that has misled many virtuous and even able men, to undervalue and despise the whole species as frivolous and worthless. A proper regard to their influence, exerted in this way, must lie at the bottom of all sound criticism, or the labors of the reviewer degenerate at once far below the flippancy of the most trashy of the works he reads but to condemn. The novel is only valuable as illustrating some peculiarities, defects, or excellencies of character—passages of historical interest, or the manners and customs of a class; and its success must depend on the ability with which it is adapted to the end desired to be accomplished. It is only the more unthinking class of writers, who mistaking the means for the end, have lost sight of all object in the composition of their tales. Don Quixotte was not written as a mere record of amusing absurdities; its purpose was to put down the injurious and ridiculous follies, which the wit of Cervantes happily lashed out of Spain. And it will be found that no work has obtained an extensive and lasting popularity, that did not recommend itself by something beyond the mere detail of the story, and the humor of the dialogue. But to return from this long digression.
THE INSURGENTS. We commence with these volumes as decidedly superior, in point of ability and interest, to other works on our table, from the pens of American writers. They are the production of one who has written before, who knows his own strength, and has fallen, (if we may use the expression,) into the regular gait of authorship—he is broken to the press. An outline of the plot, will the better enable those who may not have perused the work itself, to comprehend the justice of the scenes, and to understand the excellencies or defects of the various characters that figure on the stage. The story is laid in Massachusetts, at the period of the insurrectionary movements, among the inhabitants of some of the interior counties, during the administration of Governor Bowdoin, and immediately after the close of the revolutionary war. Col. Eustace, an officer of the revolutionary army, a generous but careless manager of his own affairs, has after several years of arduous service, and in consequence of ill health, retired to an estate fast falling to ruin, under the thriftless conduct of the open-handed thoughtless veteran. Henry Eustace, his eldest son, had served for two years as an adjutant to his father, and returned after the close of the war, full of ardent aspirations, and without any regular profession, to his paternal home. Elizabeth Eustace, is the only daughter of the old Colonel, and as the propriety of the novel requires, a lovely and interesting girl. Tom Eustace, a younger brother, plays a subaltern part in the developement of the story. Frank Talbot, an officer but a few years the senior of Henry Eustace, succeeds to the Colonelcy, vacant by the retirement of the elder Eustace; and after the disbanding of the army, returns to his residence in the village, near the estate of Col. Eustace, and is soon deeply immersed in professional business as a lawyer, and in the political duties of a representative of his native town, in the General Court, the title by which the Legislature of Massachusetts was then distinguished. Frank too, has a sister, Mary, somewhat the senior of Elizabeth, and distinguished from her by a reserved manner and studious habit, but little characteristic of her age and sex. The concluding portion of the second chapter, discovers the secret attachment, which Elizabeth Eustace already bore the young legislator, and drops the reader a hint of what the after pages of the work more fully disclose.
The great sacrifices of property, incident to a war of seven years, and the heavy imposts which the necessities of the state government impelled it to levy on those who were already deeply involved, stirred up among that class of the people, a spirit of sullen discontent; and the legislature was already the arena on which the relief, or popular party on the one hand, and the creditors on the other, had arrayed themselves in fierce opposition. Talbot, who is represented as "devoured by an ambition for political power and distinction," with an active restless spirit, determined to disregard all principle, whenever a more conscientious course might interfere with the gratification of his political aspirations, embraced the side of the malcontents, and was now on a visit to his constituents, for the purpose of rousing them up to more active remonstrance against the measures of the creditors' or government party, already supposed to have secured a majority in the lower house of the State Legislature. Henry Eustace, at this time, visits his friend, and consults with him on the choice of a profession. Medicine, to which he at first inclined, is soon abandoned, for the more attractive employment of politics; and fascinated by the popular eloquence of Talbot, whose enthusiasm had already enflamed the ardent blood of Henry, he becomes one of the most violent of the partizans of the party to which Talbot was then attached. While on this visit to the neighborhood, Talbot engages himself to Elizabeth Eustace. His talents and influence had already attracted the attention of the friends of the government, and they resolve to tempt him to desertion from his present associates, by the offer of electing him, by their support, to the Senate, to which he already aspired, but with little hope of success, from the votes of his own party. Having espoused the popular cause, from motives of personal interest, he as readily abandons it, when more seductive offers are held out by the opposite party. The baseness of Talbot, who seizes the first opportunity to betray the cause he had formerly supported, is an unexpected blow to Eustace, and severs the friendship that before existed between them. The latter assumes the secret command of the conspirators, while Talbot devotes all his energy and abilities to the service of his new friends of the government; and every day widens the difference between them. A large portion of the two volumes is taken up with descriptions of the various marchings and counter-marchings of the insurgents and the militia, in the course of which Talbot and Eustace engage in single combat; the latter strikes the sword from his adversary's hand, and spares him his life. The story then goes on, without any thing of importance occurring, until the conflict between the two parties in the Legislature, is decided in favor of the government, by the passage of a law for the suspension of the habeas corpus act. The hatred between Talbot and Eustace had already become of the most rancorous and malignant character, and the arrest of the latter, who had been once saved by the sister of Talbot, is now effected by her brother at the head of a party of soldiers. Thus deprived of their chief support, in the person of Eustace, the insurgents are soon dispersed, not however without a skirmish, in which they are put to flight, in a way at once ludicrous and conclusive. The first fire disperses them, never to recover. Elizabeth Eustace and Mary Talbot, in the mean time, manage to bring about a reconciliation between the two hostile brothers, to whom they had been respectively engaged, and a double marriage consummates the happiness of this quartette, and concludes the second and last volume of the "Insurgents." So much for the story, which though simple enough in the detail, is liable to the serious objection, that must ever lie against that division of interest, the necessary consequence of introducing a double set of characters into a plot, that should be single and simple. The unities of the drama are not more essential to the perfection of pieces designed for theatrical representation, than is the preservation of an individual and prominent interest in the hero of a novel. The narrow compass of a couple of duodecimos, is not more than sufficient for the painting of one chief character, with the sketches of the minor personæ, necessary to sustain the interest of a plot. An attempt at double teaming a novel, with two sets of heroes, invariably results in destroying that prominence of interest, which a closer adherence to the legitimate form of the fable, naturally and necessarily insures; and no more striking illustration of our position could be found, than in the volumes before us. The characters of Eustace and Talbot, neither contrast with effect, nor harmonize in the general management of the plot; and the awkward and unnatural reconciliation, which is finally brought about, to say nothing of the perplexities into which the cross-loves of the four, plunge the writer, is the best evidence that this double-plotting has injured the effect of the story, by rendering it necessary to force a conclusion.
As the fidelity to nature, in the character of the principal actors, must always be one of the highest sources of interest to a critical reader, we shall notice very briefly, the manner in which the author of the "Insurgents" has succeeded in the personnel of his descriptions. The old Colonel, the father of Henry Eustace, is exactly such a personage as every reader may have met with—brave, generous, careless, and ignorant, he is, perhaps, a very correct picture of the better part of the ancien regime of our colonial and revolutionary times. Without any striking peculiarities of character, and playing but a subaltern part in the story, he only appears as a piece of the family furniture, brought into play, by the casual location of the scene. The reader has no cause to regret the slightness of the acquaintance. The Colonel's second son, Tom, is but an appendage to the story. Henry, one of the heroes, begins in the army, a mischief loving, rule breaking, but active and gallant youth; and in the progress of the story, becomes an eloquent, restless, rebellious demagogue—stirring up insurrection among the people—defending in the Legislature, with consummate ability, their pretended wrongs and actual treason; and upon one occasion, displaying in the field, the chivalrous courage of his hot and impatient years. He is, however, always honorable and sincere. His treason is infatuation, and his demagogueism (if we may coin a much wanted word,) the frenzy of passion and thoughtlessness. Talbot, on the contrary, is bold and eloquent; a brave soldier, and an accomplished advocate; but a cunning and unprincipled politician, who, in the beginning of his career, espouses the cause of the malcontents, as the only means of securing the representation of his native village in the Legislature, and as quickly abandons it, when a higher office is promised him by the friends of the government, as the price of his desertion. Dr. Talbot, a country physician "of long practice and high repute," is an abrupt, rough, but good natured disciple of Esculapius, and seems to have been intended for no other purpose, than to enable the author to discharge his wit at the expense of some of the ill mannered admirers of the surly blackguardism of the Abernethy school of medical gentility. Of the two heroines, Mary Talbot is a thoughtful, reserved, bright eyed blue; Elizabeth Eustace is younger, and prettier, but more entirely the child of nature. Neither of them, however, say or act any thing that can distinguish them from the common materiel of all novel-women, and serve rather the necessities of the plot, than the illustration of any of the more touching or exalted beauties of female character. Of the Dii minorum gentium—the lower order of character, Zeek Morehouse, a worthless understrapper about the old Colonel's domestic establishment—Hezekiah Brindle, another domestic, who, when fortune had abandoned the standard of the Insurgents, with the most simple hearted treachery, "'lists for a private" in the adverse army—Deacon Hopkins, a thin visaged, flint hearted knave, the usurer of the parish—Captain Moses Bliss, the inn keeper, one of those pert, low rogues, so often found in village taverns—Captain Shays, the leader of the insurgents, and the very impersonation of the spirit of the militia service—Mrs. Appleton and Mrs. Shattuck, specimens of the virago, are all rather amusing examples of Yankee low life, and afford occasion for much characteristic, if not very interesting dialogue. The other characters brought out in the developement of the story, scarcely deserve to be noticed, serving as they only do, like soldiers drafted from the cobbler's stalls and tailors benches, for the use of the stage, to help the author through the necessities of his plot.
The conduct of the story, is in some respects extremely, and very often unnecessarily, faulty. The introduction of Zeek Morehouse, in the second chapter, is a bungling expedient to beat out the author's materiel, over a larger surface for the publisher: and the whole scene in the kitchen, and afterwards in the presence of the Colonel's family, is low and dull. The Doctor (Talbot,) is always an unnecessary personage, and we hardly think there is any thing about him, to compensate the delay in the story which his presence occasions. The affair of "Mary Gibbs's misfortune," is awkwardly brought in, and unsatisfactorily disposed of. We are sorry for the misconduct of Eustace, and rather vexed at the facile forgiveness with which his mistress overlooks it; while the silence of the novelist gives a venial character to one of the most crying offences against individual happiness and social order. Osborne, and his adventures, from the commencement, through his trial and mock punishment, down to the period of the marriage with Miss Warren, form an episode that only swells the volume, without helping on the story, or affording the author any opportunity (that he had not before,) for remark, or the illustration of character. He is nothing but the shadow of Eustace, in point of character; and Miss Warren, as a sketch of a flirting fashionable, is not worth the pains taken to introduce her to the reader. The capital defect of the plot, however, is in the conclusion. The bitter contempt which Eustace must have felt, (and which he seizes every opportunity to express,) for the baseness of Talbot, in betraying the cause of the popular party, and the rancorous hatred which his subsequent violent persecution of him, had engendered in the breast of Eustace, (see vol. 2, p. 266-7,) to say nothing of the cordial detestation with which Talbot returned his ill will, (see vol. 2, p. 268,) renders the reconciliation, effected without any sort of explanation, apology, or clearing up of the guilt of either, unnatural and disgusting. Eustace knew the baseness of Talbot, and the latter (a bearded man, and a soldier,) had just declared that he would sooner follow his sister to the grave, than see her united to his enemy; and yet, presto! the author having finished out his second volume, the traitor and his bitter foe, shake hands, and enter at once into an exchange of sisters by a double marriage! In this particular, the story is contrived with great want of skill.
The author seems to have been aware of the propriety and good taste of preserving historical correctness in a novel, founded on scenes in real life; but he does not comprehend, to its full extent, the spirit of that sound canon. So far as the progress of the story, in the movements of the insurgents, is concerned, the events are in strict keeping with Bradford's account of the insurrections in Massachusetts. But this was but a small part of the duty of the novelist; and he has violated all the rest. The open rebellion of the greater part of the population of several counties, threatened the most serious and alarming evil; perhaps the total overthrow of the government of the state; and the spirit of the people had become sullen and gloomy. In the "Insurgents," however, the whole affair is treated with ridicule, and the reader of the novel is left with an impression that the insurrection was of a character, compared with which, the adventures of Don Quixotte and his squire, were serious and important! Shays, who was the head of the malcontents, and commander in chief of the disorderly forces that were arranged against the government, is painted in the novel, as a despicably ignorant and silly creature. Now, such would not have been the character of a man, elected to head a band of desperate insurgents, upon the point of engagement with the forces of a powerful commonwealth! We may add, that the whole body of the relief party, with the exception of Eustace, and his friend Osborne, are described as frivolous gasconading clowns. In this respect, then, there has been a gross falsification of history, and the extremely literal adherence of the author, to historical correctness in events, renders this striking variation the more apparent, and the more to be lamented.
The moral of the "Insurgents," is defective. The treachery of Talbot, and the indignant virtue of Eustace, are rewarded with the same final happiness; and the unfortunate Mary Gibbs does not even suggest to the author a word of censure, upon her guilty seducer. We should have been glad to have made such extracts from the work, as would have enabled our readers to judge for themselves of its merit; but there are few, if any passages, in either volume, of very striking interest, and any partial quotation would rather have misled, than corrected their judgment.