Cotton, Robbins, and Judson, * are sufficient to remind us that their clergy were of kindred spirit.

Thus far have we spoken of the subject-matter of this volume, and especially of the character which is chiefly discussed and developed in it, in terms of praise alone. It will not be inferred that we are blind, or that our historian has shown himself to be so, to the faults of the Pilgrims. These are too obvious, indeed, and too familiar, to justify the affectation of setting up a court of inquiry here, at this late day, to try them anew. Those who wish to refresh their recollection of such points as are the least acceptable, we have presumed, to most readers, will find that he has given them sufficient opportunity to do so. They can go over the Indian intercourse, and the persecution of the Quakers, and the illiberal laws, to their hearts' content. None of these facts, which certainly make against them, whether as faults of their own or of the age, are here suppressed; — though we must acknowledge our apprehension, by the way, that, while the author's enthusiasm in the prosecution of his work, as an historian, has impelled him to an impartial exhibition of details, his enthusiasm, as a son of the Pilgrims, in behalf of their memory, has, perhaps, as strongly swayed him occasionally to conclusions, which even his own statements do not entirely sustain.

Take, for example, the case of Standish's summary treatment of the Indian whose head he fixed on the Plymouth fort, and the whole transaction connected therewith, which drove so many of the frightened savages to perish in the swamps; the generous Iyanough, and other chieftains, against whom nothing was known, among the number. No wonder that good Mr. Robinson appealed to the Plymouth Church, "to consider the disposition of their Captain, who was of warm temper!" The chief evidence on which the latter acted, seems to us to have been the declarations of Hobamock and Squanto, the latter of whom, pretty soon after his joining the English, had been ascertained to be a person not to be relied on." It was but too probable, that Hobamok, after his death, if not before, might have been influenced by similar views. At the best, it was but a single testimony, and did not justify

66

* Father of the distinguished Baptist Missionary of the same name. † Page 46.

*

going to work in the style we refer to, without so much as an inquiry into the matter of complaint, or an opportunity given for explanation or satisfaction by those complained of, provided there should be occasion for demanding either. As to the apparent "coolness" in the manners of Massasoit, whose fidelity had been most thoroughly tested, there would seem to have been reason enough for that, in the facts (stated on the same page) regarding the Governor's refusal to punish Squanto at his master's demand, although the Governor himself" admitted that he deserved death; "- for the sole reason, it must be inferred, that the services of this vagabond were needed as interpreter, to keep up the "necessary intercourse" between the two people. After all, what was the crime suspected? It was "a hostile combination" of several tribes of Indians against the settlement at Wessagusset, † (or Weymouth.) This was the subject on which the Governor made his communication, such as it was, on the annual court-day. On the strength of this "it was resolved," that Standish should take men enough to meet all the Indians in the Bay, consult with the settlers at Weymouth, and bring home the head of the supposed ringleader, Wattawamat. In other words, war was not only declared, but commenced, and carried on till the end of it was thought to be attained. And who were the people in whose defence this movement was undertaken? They were fifty or sixty men sent out from England a few months before (by Mr. Weston), who had tarried awhile at Plymouth on the way; and there, after receiving every hospitality the place afforded, they had acknowledged it by committing numerous thefts, and wasting the provisions of the planters who furnished them with supplies. The Doctor himself does but follow his authorities, when he calls them a set of "profligate miscreants"; and it appears, on the very next page, that they early began stealing from the Indians, and were" continually exasperating them against both settlements." Again, complaints were made, and some were punished, and one white man hanged; but all "without amendment." was for combining against these miscreants, profligates, and thieves, who were daily insulting them, and devouring their substance by robbery, that the natives were thus summarily attacked. It was for the suspicion, rather, of their intention * Page 47. † p. 55.

‡ p. 48.

It

so to combine. All which, without dwelling longer on so disagreeable a subject, we can, by no means, with our present information, consider as a "defensible" proceeding. The various circumstances suggested as palliations, may be gladly so received, and made the most of; especially the fearful example of the then recent Virginian massacre, and the general excitement of the times; but of course they only palliate, they do not excuse.

We shall leave this strain of comment with more pleasure than we commenced it, after adding our dissent to a proposition in the Appendix to this volume, where, speaking of Alexander, the son and successor of Massasoit, the historian, we think, has inadvertently fallen into a common opinion, that this unfortunate young man was "devoid of his father's good qualities." Yet it is admitted, that all which is known of him is derived from one transaction. That affair is detailed here in two forms, - Mr. Mather's and Mr. Cotton's. The latter is founded on a statement of Major Bradford, who was one of the actors in the scene; and it wholly exculpates Alexander from any misconduct, to say the least. Under these circumstances, it seems to us a hard case enough, that the life of this unfortunate personage should have been so disastrously cut short as it was, without adding the ignominy of such a character as historians, both here and elsewhere, have ventured to ascribe to him. We confess, our own inferences have been decidedly in favor of the Indian, even from the evidently hasty and prejudiced account furnished by Mather. Every one, however, can judge for himself; and we must do our author the justice to say, that, whether he is right or wrong in his reasoning, he has followed in this instance his invariable practice of furnishing the data which led him to adopt it. One or two such inaccuracies, if such they are, in a volume like this, are no great marvel. The typographical blunders, which, we suppose the author is not chargeable for, might afford us better scope for critical scrutiny; the unceremonious change, by two months, in the date of the Pilgrim's landing, among others; but these errata, on account of their palpable gaucherie, are mostly of a character to require little notice, and we have left ourselves no time to bestow it.

In fine, as we began with waving a discussion of the character of the Pilgrim enterprise, and its consequences, or even of the character of the men who devised and sustained it, we may as safely end with repeating the intimation, that the

best compliment, the most generous justice, the worthiest monument, which can now be given them, is the strictest, plainest, and fullest statement, as far as possible, of what they did, and who they were. The task of mere eulogy, compared with this, if it be true, or founded on truth, is but a vain effort to construe actions which speak better for themselves. If it be more than true; if it labor to conceal the real errors of systems, or the real weaknesses of men; it fails of its own purposes as much, at least, as if it were less, — by suppressing the very obstacles which most of all, perhaps, —more than the elements, more than their enemies themselves, were the trials the Pilgrims were called on to encounter, and to surmount. It was not only what they were, but what they did despite of what they were and what the age was with them, which gives them a title to our admiration. This we magnify in proportion as we magnify their faults and their misfortunes.

At all events we wish to know them as they were, and to appreciate, as it merits, the claim, which has been advanced for them, to the remembrance and the reverence of men. An extraordinary race they were, at least; such as the world never had known before, and never will know again. Extraordinary circumstances, which never can be revived, surrounded, nourished, educated, and impelled them. Consequences, most extraordinary of all, have resulted already from the lives, which their character and their circumstances together induced them, and enabled them, to lead; consequences developed, enough, long since, to prove them the founders of a new dynasty in the destinies of the race. We know not all as yet, indeed. We cannot know. We may not speculate even, with a tolerable plausibility, into the vast mysteries which veil the coming fortunes of the descendants of the Puritans. The existing spectacle, as Mr. Everett remarked at Plymouth, does not suggest even an idea of what must be. And yet, we see enough to feel, more and more, that the past, at least, must be secured; that the beginning, if nothing else, should be disclosed; that it is history, which must give us not only the sole clue we can have to prophecy, but the best interpretation of what we are ourselves, and what we owe, and have to do. And knowing and doing this, the rest may be left to those who may follow us. Time alone can tell the sequel of the story. Posterity must live it out.

VOL. XXI. — 3D S. VOL. III. NO. 1.

10

B. B. T.

ART. V. Sartor Resartus. In Three Books. Boston: James Munroe, & Co. 1836. 12mo. pp. 299.

We

n & Frothing ham In giving our readers some account of this singular production, we will begin by reversing the usual method of our vocation, and instead of a review utter a prophecy. Indeed the book is so very odd, that some departure from the common course seems the most appropriate to any notice of it. predict, then, that it will not be read through by a great many persons, nor be liked by all its readers. Some will pronounce it unintelligible, or boldly deny that it has any good sound meaning. Some will be deterred by its Latin porch and German decorations from having any thing to do with what seems not intended for their accommodation; while perhaps their neighbour, attracted by the quaintness of the title, "Sartor Resartus," The Tailor Sewed Over,—and thinking only of being amused in a passive way, will soon find his mistake, and declare himself imposed upon. The taste of some will be offended by what they will call its affectation and mannerism, and you shall not easily dispossess them of the notion, that the style is a jargon and the philosophy stark nought.

These are they that will rise up to defame and vilipend the elaborate and mystic book of The Philosophy of Clothes, by Dr. Diogenes Teufelsdröckh (Asafoetida), Professor of Things in General at the University of Weissnichtwo (Know-notwhere), and living in the attic floor of the highest house in its Wahngasse (Whimsey Street). Even his choice phrases and profoundest speculations shall be as unsavoury to them as the drug, from which he has rather unaccountably, to say the least of it, taken his name.* But then we plainly foresee

* An ingenious friend has just surmised, that there might be a secret design in the composition of this most un-euphonious proper name; as the Grecian part of it means heaven-born, and the German one the vilest of earthly or even infernal productions. This conjecture may seem to be confirmed by the character of our Professor, who is a great radical, and seems to be made up of violently opposite elements. "And yet, thou brave Teufelsdröckh, who could tell what lurked in thee? In thy eyes, deep under their shaggy brows, and looking out so still and dreamy, have we not noticed gleams of an ethereal or else a diabolic fire, and half fancied that their stillness was but the rest of infinite motion, the sleep of a spinning-top?"-p. 14. And again, p. 65. "Through all the vapor and tarnish of what is often so perverse, so