as a reason against the success of the missions, the friends of this undertaking are always fond of reminding us how patiently the Hindoos submitted to the religious persecution and butchery of Tippoo. The inference from such citations is truly alarming. It is the imperious duty of Government to watch some of these men most narrowly. There is nothing of which they are not capable. And what, after all, did Tippoo effect in the way of conversion? How many Mahometans did he make? There was all the carnage of Medea's Kettle, and none of the transformation. He deprived multitudes of Hindoos of their caste, indeed; and cut them off from all the benefits of their religion. That he did, and we may do, by violence; but did he make Mahometans?or shall we make Christians? This, however, it seems, is a matter of pleasantry. To make a poor Hindoo hateful to himself and his kindred, and to fix a curse upon him to the end of his days!-we have no doubt but that this is very entertaining; and particularly to the friends of toleration. But our ideas of comedy have been formed in another school. We are dull enough to think, too, that it is more innocent to exile pigs, than to offend conscience, and destroy human happiness. The scheme of baptizing with beef-broth is about as brutal and preposterous as the assertion that you may vilify the gods and priests of the Hindoos with safety, provided you do not meddle with their turbans and toupees (which are cherished solely on a principle of religion), is silly and contemptible. After all, if the Mahometan did persecute the Hindoo with impunity, is that any precedent of safety to a government that offends every feeling both of Mahometan and Hindoo at the same time? You have a tiger and a buffalo in the same inclosure; and the tiger drives the buffalo before him ;-is it therefore prudent in you to do that which will irritate them both, and bring their united strength upon you?

In answer to all the low malignity of this author, we have only to reply that we are, as we always have been, sincere friends to the conversion of the Hindoos. We admit the Hindoo religion to be full of follies, and full of enormities; we think conversion a great duty; and should think it, if it could be effected, a great blessing; but our opinion of the missionaries and of their employer is such, that we most firmly believe, in less than twenty years, for the conversion of a few degraded wretches, who would be neither Methodists nor Hindoos, they would infallibly produce the massacre of every European in India;* the loss of our settlements; and, consequently, of the chance of that slow, solid, and temperate introduction of Christianity, which the superiority of the European character may ultimately effect in the Eastern world. The Board of Control (all Atheists, and disciples of Voltaire, of course) are so entirely of our way of thinking, that the most peremptory orders have been issued to send all the missionaries home upon the slightest appearance of disturbance. Those who have sons and brothers in India may now sleep in peace. Upon the transmission of this order, Mr. Styles is said to have destroyed himself with a kime.

CELEBS IN SEARCH OF A WIFE. (E. REVIEW, April, 1809.) Colebs in Search of a Wife; comprehending Observations on Domestic Habits and Manners,

Religion and Morals. 2 Vols. London. 1809.

THIS book is written, or supposed to be written (for we would speak timidly of the mysteries of superior beings), by the celebrated Mrs. Hannah More!

Every opponent says, of Major Scott's book, "What a dangerous book! the arrival of it at Calcutta may throw the whole Indian Empire into confusion;" and yet these are the people whose religious prejudices may be insulted with impunity.

We shall probably give great offence by such indiscretion; but still we must be excused for treating it as a book merely human-an uninspired production -the result of mortality left to itself, and depending on its own limited resources. In taking up the subject in this point of view we solemnly disclaim the slightest intention of indulging in any indecorous levity, or of wounding the religious feelings of a large class of very respectable persons. It is the only method in which we can possibly make this work a proper object of criticism. We have the strongest possible doubts of the attributes usually ascribed to this authoress; and we think it more simple and manly to say so at once than to admit nominally superlunary claims which, in the progress of our remarks, we should virtually deny.

Coelebs wants a wife; and, after the death of his father, quits his estate in Northumberland to see the world, and to seek for one of its best productions, a woman, who may add materially to the happiness of his future life. His first journey is to London, where, in the midst of the gay society of the metropolis, of course, he does not find a wife; and his next journey is to the family of Mr. Stanley, the head of the Methodists, a serious people, where, of course, he does not find a wife. The exaltation, therefore, of what the authoress deems to be the religious, and the depreciation of what she considers to be the worldly character, and the influence of both upon matrimonial happiness, form the subject of this novel—rather of this dramatic

sermon.

The machinery upon which the discourse is suspended is of the slightest and most inartificial texture, bearing every mark of haste, and possessing not the slightest claim to merit. Events there are none; and scarcely a character of any interest. The book is intended to convey religious advice; and no more labour appears to have been bestowed upon the story than was merely sufficient to throw it out of the dry didactic form. Lucilla is totally uninteresting; so is Mr. Stanley; Dr. Barlow still worse; and Colebs a mere clod or dolt. Sir John and Lady Belfield are rather more interesting-and for a very obvious reason: they have some faults;-they put us in mind of men and women;-they seem to belong to one common nature with ourselves. As we read, we seem to think we might act as such people act, and therefore we attend; whereas imitation is hopeless in the more perfect characters which Mrs. More has set before us; and therefore they inspire us with very little interest.

There are books, however, of all kinds; and those may not be unwisely planned which set before us very pure models. They are less probable, and therefore less amusing, than ordinary stories; but they are more amusing than plain unfabled precept. Sir Charles Grandison is less agreeable than Tom Jones; but it is more agreeable than Sherlock and Tillotson, and teaches religion and morality to many who would not seek it in the productions of these professional writers.

But, making every allowance for the difficulty of the task which Mrs. More has prescribed to herself, the book abounds with marks of negligence and want of skill; with representations of life and manners which are either false or trite.

Temples to friendship and virtue must be totally laid aside, for many years to come, in novels. Mr. Lane, of the Minerva Press, has given them up long since; and we were quite surprised to find such a writer as Mrs. More busied in moral brick and mortar. Such an idea, at first, was merely juvenile; the second time a little nauseous; but the ten-thousandth time it is quite intolerable. Colebs, upon his first arrival in London, dines out -meets with a bad dinner-supposes the cause of that bad dinner to be the

erudition of the ladies of the house-talks to them upon learned subjects, and finds them as dull and ignorant as if they had piqued themselves upon all the mysteries of housewifery. We humbly submit to Mrs. More that this is not humorous, but strained and unnatural. Philippics against frugivorous children after dinner are too common. Lady Melbury has been introduced into every novel for these four years last past. Peace to her ashes!

The characters in this novel which evince the greatest skill are unquestionably those of Mrs. Ranby and her daughters. There are some scenes in this part of the book extremely well painted, and which evince that Mrs. More could amuse, in no common degree, if amusement was her object.

"At tea, I found the young ladies took no more interest in the conversation than they had done at dinner, but sat whispering and laughing, and netting white silk gloves, till they were summoned to the harpsichord. Despairing of getting on with them in company, I proposed a walk in the garden. I now found them as willing to talk as destitute of anything to say. Their conversation was vapid and frivolous. They laid great stress on small things. They seemed to have no shades in their understanding, but used the strongest terms for the commonest occasions; and admiration was excited by things hardly worthy to command attention. They were extremely glad and extremely sorry on subjects not calculated to excite affections of any kind. They were animated about trifles, and indifferent on things of importance. They were, I must confess, frank and good-natured; but it was evident that, as they were too open to have anything to conceal, so they were too uninformed to have anything to produce; and I was resolved not to risk my happiness with a woman who could not contribute her full share towards spending a wet winter cheerfully in the country."(I. 54, 55.)

This trait of character appears to us to be very good. The following passage is still better.

"In the evening, Mrs. Ranby was lamenting in general, in rather customary terms, her own exceeding sinfulness. Mr. Ranby said, You accuse yourself rather too heavily, my dear; you have sins to be sure.' And pray what sins have I, Mr. Ranby?' said she, turning upon him with so much quickness that the poor man started. Nay,' said he, meekly, 'I did not mean to offend you; so far from it, that, hearing you condemn yourself so grievously, I intended to comfort you, and to say that, except a few faults'And pray what faults?' interrupted she, continuing to speak, however, lest he should catch an interval My dear,' replied he, as you to tell them. 'I defy you, Mr. Ranby, to produce one.' charged yourself with all, I thought it would be letting you off cheaply, by naming only two or three, such as Here, fearing matters would go too far, I interposed, and, softening things as much as I could for the lady, said, 'I conceive that Mr. Ranby meant that, though she partook of the general corruption Here Ranby, interrupting me with more spirit than I thought he possessed, said, 'General corruption, Sir, must be the source of particular corruption. I did not mean that my wife was worse than other women.'Worse, Mr. Ranby, worse?' cried she. Ranby, for the first time in his life, not minding her, went on, As she is always insisting that the whole species is corrupt, she cannot help allowing that she herself has not quite escaped the infection. Now, to be a sinner in the gross, and a saint in the detail—that is, to have all sins, and no faults—is a thing I do not quite comprehend.'

"After he had left the room, which he did as the shortest way of allaying the storm, she, apologising for him, said 'he was a well-meaning man, and acted up to the little light he had;' but added, 'that he was unacquainted with religious feelings, and knew little of the nature of conversion.'

"Mrs. Ranby, I found, seems to consider Christianity as a kind of freemasonry; and, therefore, thinks it superfluous to speak on serious subjects to any but the initiated. If they do not return the sign, she gives them up as blind and dead. She thinks she can only make herself intelligible to those to whom certain peculiar phrases are familiar: and though her friends may be correct, devout, and both doctrinally and practically pious; yet, if they cannot catch a certain mystic meaning-if there is not a sympathy of intelligence between her and them-if they do not fully conceive of impressions, and cannot respond to mysterious communications, she holds them unworthy of intercourse with her. She does not so much insist on high and moral excellence as the criterion of their worth, as on their own account of their internal feelings.”—(I. 60-63.)

The great object kept in view, throughout the whole of this introduction, is the enforcement of religious principle, and the condemnation of a life

lavished in dissipation and fashionable amusement. In the pursuit of this object, it appears to us that Mrs. More is much too severe upon the ordinary amusements of mankind, many of which she does not object to in this or that degree, but altogether. Colebs and Lucilla, her optimus and optima, never dance, and never go to the play. They not only stay away from the comedies of Congreve and Farquhar, for which they may easily enough be forgiven; but they never go to see Mrs. Siddons in the Gamester, or in Jane Shore. The finest exhibition of talent and the most beautiful moral lessons are interdicted at the theatre. There is something in the word playhouse which seems so closely connected, in the minds of these people, with sin and Satan,-that it stands in their vocabulary for every species of abomination. And yet why? Where is every feeling more roused in favour of virtue than at a good play? Where is goodness so feelingly, so enthusiastically learnt? What so solemn as to see the excellent passions of the human heart called forth by a great actor, animated by a great poet? To hear Siddons repeat what Shakspeare wrote! To behold the child and his mother-the noble and the poor artizan―the monarch and his subjects-all ages and all ranks convulsed with one common passion-wrung with one common anguish, and, with loud sobs and cries, doing involuntary homage to the God that made their hearts! What wretched infatuation to interdict such amusements as these! What a blessing that mankind can be allured from sensual gratification, and find relaxation and pleasure in such pursuits! But the excellent Mr. Stanley is uniformly paltry and narrow-always trembling at the idea of being entertained, and thinking no Christian safe who is not dull. As to the spectacles of impropriety which are sometimes witnessed in parts of the theatre, such reasons apply, in a much stronger degree, to not driving along the Strand, or any of the great public streets of London after dark; and, if the virtue of well-educated young persons is made of such very frail materials, the best resource is a nunnery at once. It is a very bad rule, however, never to quit the house for fear of catching cold.

Mrs. More practically extends the same doctrine to cards and assemblies. No cards-because cards are employed in gaming; no assemblies-because many dissipated persons pass their lives in assemblies. Carry this but a little further, and we must say, no wine-because of drunkenness; no meatbecause of gluttony; no use, that there may be no abuse! The fact is, that Mr. Stanley wants, not only to be religious, but to be at the head of the religious. These little abstinences are the cockades by which the party are known-the rallying points for the evangelical faction. So natural is the love of power, that it sometimes becomes the influencing motive with the sincere advocates of that blessed religion whose very characteristic excellence is the humility which it inculcates.

We observe that Mrs. More, in one part of her work, falls into the common error about dress. She first blames ladies for exposing their persons in the present style of dress, and then says, if they knew their own interest-if they were aware how much more alluring they were to men when their charms are less displayed, they would make the desired alteration from motives merely selfish.

"Oh ! if women in general knew what was their real interest, if they could guess with what a charm even the appearance of modesty invests its possessor, they would dress decorously from mere self-love, if not from principle. The designing would assume modesty as an artifice; the coquet would adopt it as an allurement; the pure as her appropriate attraction; and the voluptuous as the most infallible art of seduction."—(I. 189.)

If there is any truth in this passage, nudity becomes a virtue ; and no decent woman, for the future, can be seen in garments.

L

We have a few more of Mrs. More's opinions to notice. It is not fair to attack the religion of the times because, in large and indiscriminate parties, religion does not become the subject of conversation. Conversation must and ought to grow out of materials on which men can agree, not upon subjects which try the passions. But this good lady wants to see men chatting together upon the Pelagian heresy-to hear, in the afternoon, the theological rumours of the day-and to glean polemical tittle-tattle at a tea-table rout. All the disciples of this school uniformly fall into the same mistake. They are perpetually calling upon their votaries for religious thoughts and religious conversation in everything; inviting them to ride, walk, row, wrestle, and dine out religiously;-forgetting that the being to whom this impossible purity is recommended, is a being compelled to scramble for his existence and support for ten hours out of the sixteen he is awake;-forgetting that he must dig, beg, read, think, move, pay, receive, praise, scold, command, and obey;-forgetting, also, that if men conversed as often upon religious subjects as they do upon the ordinary occurrences of the world, they would converse upon them with the same familiarity and want of respect ;-that religion would then produce feelings not more solemn or exalted than any other topics which constitute at present the common furniture of human understandings.

We are glad to find in this work some strong compliments to the efficacy of works-some distinct admissions that it is necessary to be honest and just, before we can be considered as religious. Such sort of concessions are very gratifying to us; but how will they be received by the children of the Tabernacle? It is quite clear, indeed, throughout the whole of the work, that an apologetical explanation of certain religious opinions is intended; and there is a considerable abatement of that tone of insolence with which the improved Christians are apt to treat the bungling specimens of piety to be met with in the more ancient churches.

So much for the extravagances of this lady. With equal sincerity, and with greater pleasure, we bear testimony to her talents, her good sense, and her real piety. There occur, every now and then, in her productions, very original, and very profound observations. Her advice is very often characterised by the most amiable good sense, and conveyed in the most brilliant and inviting style. If, instead of belonging to a trumpery faction, she had only watched over those great points of religion in which the hearts of every sect of Christians are interested, she would have been one of the most useful and valuable writers of her day. As it is, every man would wish his wife and his children to read Calebs ;-watching himself its effects;-separating the piety from the puerility ;—and showing that it is very possible to be a good Christian, without degrading the human understanding to the trash and folly of Methodism.

CHARACTERS OF MR. FOX. (E. REVIEW, July, 1809.) Characters of the late Charles James Fox. By PHILOPATRIS VARVICENSIS. 2 vols. 8vo. THIS singular work consists of a collection of all the panegyrics passed upon Mr. Fox, after his decease, in periodical publications, speeches, sermons, or elsewhere, in a panegyric upon Mr. Fox by Philopatris himself,—and in a volume of notes by the said Philopatris upon the said panegyric.

Of the panegyrics, that by Sir James Mackintosh appears to us to be by far the best. It is remarkable for good sense, acting upon a perfect knowledge of his subject, for simplicity, and for feeling. Amid the languid or turgid efforts of mediocrity, it is delightful to notice the skill, attention, and resources