"Again on page 48th.
'It was blessed to see the love light in Ruth's gentle eyes; to see the rose chase the lily from her cheek; to see the old spring come back to her step; to follow her from room to room while she draped the pretty white curtains, and beautified unconsciously everything she touched.'
"We have not space for farther quotations, but must refer our readers to the 59th, 61st, 70th, and other pages of the work, not forgetting the lengthy and flattering phrenological description commencing at page 278.
"Another very striking characteristic of 'Ruth Hall' is her want of filial piety. If we omit the evidences of this, half the book disappears. Whether the parents of her deceased husband, respect for whose memory at least should have restrained her pen, or her own relatives, become the subjects of her notice, vulgar ridicule and pointless wit are unsparingly lavished upon them. Whatever may have been the faults of those connected with 'Fanny Fern's' past history, a decent self-respect should have withheld her from thus parading them before the world. It is well known to the public that 'Fanny Fern' has been twice married, but all allusion to this circumstance is omitted in 'Ruth Hall.' How are we then to know that this suppressed history may not contain a partial justification of the course pursued by her friends? One intimate with her first husband, long ago informed us that she was a 'poor housekeeper,' and 'did not make him a comfortable home.' We have therefore been half inclined to sympathize with 'Mrs. Hall's' lamentations over the missing accomplishment of bread-making.
"But for infringing on the sacredness of communications intended to be private, we could give a different aspect to other allusions in 'Ruth Hall.' Whatever may have been the defects of 'Hyacinth Ellet,' he has never publicly failed to 'know his father and his mother.' The gray hairs which 'are a crown of glory when found in the way of righteousness,' should have shielded an aged parent from the irreverent attacks of the daughter, and the hollow cough of an invalid struggling with a yet more pitiless foe, should have found its way to the heart of the sister. When the clods of the valley shall rest upon the heads of both father and brother, we shall not envy the emotions of 'Fanny Fern.'
"'Ruth Hall' proves herself capable of ingratitude. Her earliest benefactor, the kind-hearted and benevolent man who first encouraged and rewarded her timid efforts, has not been safe from her attacks, even in the grave. Later friends have been as unhesitatingly deserted and abused. Well may they feel 'how sharper than a serpent's tooth it is, to have a thankless' friend. By the aid of these, she stepped from obscurity into public notice, and now 'has no farther occasion for her stepping-stones.'
"But self-esteem, ingratitude, and want of filial piety, are venial sins compared with the irreverence for things sacred, which sullies the pages of 'Ruth Hall.' The conversation of the dressmaker, that of Mr. Ellet with his ministerial friend, the allusion to Hyacinth's description of the Saviour, with many other briefer passages, had they been written by Dickens, would have been pronounced impious. Written by a professed Christian, what then shall we call them? Filial disrespect and religious irreverence are blended in almost every page.
"But 'Ruth Hall' is represented as a model woman, and an exemplary Christian. All that 'Fanny Fern's' descriptive talent could do to throw a charm about her character has been done. Whether the defects of the heroine thus unintentionally betrayed, may not lessen our desire to copy this model, we will leave the unprejudiced reader to judge. One deeply read in human nature has said,
"'Sweet are the uses of adversity
Which like the toad, ugly and venomous,