distinction exists between pursuits essential to our com- form more deleterious than its original prototype. If the fort and subsistence, and those that conduce merely to our annals of history be consulted, it will be found that some amusement. If there be an indispensable necessity to pat-species of public exhibition has been popular and prevalent ronize the undeserving, there would be some force in such among all nations, ancient and modern, barbarous and rean idea; but are there not many cases, in which no such fined. The propensity for such amusements must, theresecessity can be pretended? Among a multitude of instan- fore, be deeply seated in human nature; and the question ces, take the example of a worthless mechanic: what com- is, whether this natural craving for shows and spectacles pels us to employ him in preference to one of less skill, but will not be gratified in some shape in despite of all opposiof more blameless deportment? And yet, in that case, no tion. If the drama be prohibited, is there not danger that one hesitates, when it suits his interest or convenience, to some diversion, more pernicious in its tendency, will usurp bestow his patronage on the least meritorious. Indeed, the its place? Such an apprehension, authorized as it is by the distinction referred to is never recognized in matters of original propensities of mankind, derives additional strength business, and rarely in matters of mere amusement. Who from our actual experience. With what insatiable eagerever objected to the purchase of Hume's history, because ness of curiosity do the people of this country throng to the the writer was an infidel? If Walter Scott or Washington circus, the menagerie, and every sort of public spectacles? Irving were notorious skeptics, or men of profligate cha- In these favorite pastimes, there is nothing to refine the racter, is there any principle of ethics or religion that for- taste, to inform the understanding, to move the affections, bids the purchase of their writings, supposing them to be, to improve the heart. All the evils imputed to the theatre, in other respects, unexceptionable? No one, I am sure, appear there in an agravated form, with none of its redeemwould maintain the affirmative of such a proposition; yet ing advantages; and when they shall have thoroughly dein the case stated, our countenance and support would be based the public mind, the transition will be easy to the Shall we be much begiven to men whose conduct and principles we did not ap- more cruel sports of our ancestors. prove, not from the compulsion of an overruling necessity, nefited by the substitution of such vulgar shows as these but simply as a matter of personal gratification. for the more intellectual diversions of the play-house? We must take man as he is; and, since we cannot change his nature, it is the part of wisdom to use all the means within our reach to cultivate and refine it.

But it is insisted that the money bestowed on the diversions of the theatre might be more usefully, and therefore more commendably employed; so, indeed, might every expenditure devoted to the purchase of innocent pleasure. In a political, no less than a moral point of view, the And will it be argued, that every application of money, not character and tendency of public spectacles is of the ut of absolute necessity or utility, is criminal? If we dedi- most importance to the community. It was shrewdly recate a portion of our resources to the promotion of litera- marked by Fletcher of Saltoun, that, had he the compositure and the fine arts, not to speak of various other indul- tion of its popular songs and ballads, he would have no gences not forbidden by the most rigid, are we to be con- difficulty in moulding to his wishes the feelings and opidemned as selfish and extravagant, because they might nions of any nation; but potent as these are in forming the have been applied to more important purposes? As well popular character, they are scarcely more influential than might it be said, that we should clothe ourselves in the public shows and amusements. And, indeed, the latter coarsest apparel, and subsist on the rudest fare, because have been deemed, in some countries, of such vital conse. the money lavished on costly garments and comfortable quence to the well-being of the community, that they have living might have been better expended in the relief of the been made the subject of legislative regulation. An inpoor or the advancement of some religious undertaking. terference with such matters by the government, other than Were such a self-denying principle adopted in practice, all to maintain good order, and to punish flagrant outrages on the elegancies and superfluities of life must be abandoned, decency and morals, would be repugnant to the genius of and we should exhibit the singular spectacle of surrender- our institutions; and, therefore, no remedy remains to us ing, at this advanced stage of society, all the benefits of for the multiplied abuses to which such exhibitions are civilization. Let me not be misunderstood. I do not jus- liable, but the corrective of an enlightened public opinion. tify that exclusive selfishness, which absorbs every thing Theatres, then, will continue to exist; but whether for good in the vortex of its own gratification, nor leaves a peculium or evil depends upon the character of those by whom their to bestow on the great enterprizes of philanthropy. But action will be controlled. If left to the exclusive governthe guilt, in all such cases, consists in the inordinate in- ment of bad men, and an undiscerning populace, they will dulgence, and it is a maxim undeniably true, that pleasure surely degenerate into the nurseries of vice, the organized should always yield to the demands of duty. But subject seminaries of licentiousness, infidelity, sedition and vioto this limitation, and the obligations of temperance, it is lence. Is it not of the utmost consequence to the peace of clear to my understanding, that providence designed us to society, to the permanence of our political institutions, to partake of every enjoyment not absolutely criminal in its the interests of morality and religion, that these pestilential nature. So far as this discussion is concerned, the true consequences should be averted? I call upon all good men, question seems to be, whether any principle of morality or and more especially, I invoke the religious community, to religion forbids dramatic representations in the abstract as interpose a barrier to the advent of these wide-spreading sinful and demoralizing; for if there be no such principle, evils. If they will take a prominent part in that applause it is just as venial to appropriate, within reasonable limits, and censure, which determine the course and manner of our means to that recreation, when properly regulated, as dramatic exhibitions, the stage will become, what it was intended to be in its original institution-the fast friend to any other gratification admitted to be innocent. The uncompromising hostility of the religious world to and faithful ally of virtue. There was a time when men, the theatre would have some definite object, if its total distinguished for the strictness of their morals, and their suppression were an achievement within the range of pro-zeal in the cause of religion, esteemed it no crime to witbability; but such an enterprize is rendered utterly hope-ness theatrical entertainments; when Addison, Johnson, less, when we consider the innate love of mankind for Moore, and a host of literary worthies sustained the cause public spectacles, and the multitudes remaining uncon- of the drama both by their countenance and writings. The nected with the Christian churches. Indeed, were it prac-authority of great names, I acknowledge should not overtirable, I question whether success would fulfil the wishes rule the convictions of reason; but surely a diversion, of its most zealous promoters; whether, in truth, the evil, sanctioned by such persons as these, cannot be altogether designed to be eradicated, would not be reproduced in a unworthy the care of the wise and good.

VOL. VII-24

THE HISTORY OF AN ADVENTURER. |derness and education should be lost upon him. Now, my good sir, I fear that such representations as these are calculated to create a doubt, in tender minds, of the benevo

[Most of our readers, doubtless, remember "The His-lence, wisdom and power of the Deity. All that exists tory of an Adventurer," published in the Messenger some time since. We know that it excited great interest, and attracted much criticism; and although we were perfectly assured that its author's design was unexceptionable, yet even with the addition of the "Sequel," published in a succeeding number, the moral tendency of the story was questioned by many ingenuous minds. Among those who adopted this opinion was a distinguished correspondent, in a sister state, of high intellectual character and moral endowments, the expression of whose sentiments we took the liberty of soliciting. His letter, which will be found below, we transmitted to the gifted author of "The Adventurer," and drew from him the candid and eloquent vindication, which we also subjoin. Without consulting these gentlemen, we take the liberty of spreading both their communications (suppressing their names,) before our readers; and, in doing so, we hope they will excuse us, on account of the gratification which we are sure will be experienced in their perusal.]-Ed. Mess.

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June 8th, 1840.

must be according to his will. The true design of any supposed imperfection must be beyond our conception. The Deity, being perfect, may create good out of apparent imper. fection; but he must be incapable of willing the existence of a monster in the human shape. Mankind were meant to be, and I believe are disposed to be, virtuous. It is true that they have passions demanding control, but the power to control or discriminate between right and wrong, is inhe rent in every breast, and is exercised from our childhood. All the means needful to disseminate virtue are bountifully placed in the hands of society, and if they do not efficiently employ them they share the culpability of those who err. Men do not, as Newman is represented to have done, commit crimes from inborn inclination-but against the natural inclination. The culpability of Newman dwindles away if he barely followed his natural bent or destiny, and a share of odium is thus cast upon the Creator. The Adventurer appears as if intended from his birth to become a villain. This seems to me (if I rightly understand the tale) to be a serious objection to it. The hero is a caricature surely, and not the original. There have been men who committed each such a crime or perhaps crimes as Newman is ac Mr. T. W. WHITE. cused of, but I cannot conceive that there ever existed a My Dear Sir:-On my return from a visit to New-York, being who from his cradle was vicious, and as he gradually I received your letter of the 27th ult. and have also re- grew in years increased in the desire coolly and delibeceived two newspapers containing remarks upon The rately to be of choice a villain. Again: until the close of History of an Adventurer," published in the Messenger. his long life, Newman appears to have had peacefulness of If you had not asked me to do so, I do not think I would mind, or at least no remorse. Now I consider this unnatuhave read the tale, although well inclined to value all that ral and impossible. But suppose it possible, is it discreet appears in your interesting work. There is so much reality to teach youth that they may proceed to the end of an infato be seen, heard and read about, that I rarely seek for in- mous existence without repugnance or a sense of shame? struction or amusement from fictions. Indeed, I do not The aim of every one should be to prove that vice and consider fiction the proper medium for conveying such in- tranquillity of soul are utterly incompatible and non-existstruction as mankind need. If it is salutary, as it surely is, ing, as they surely are. Again: If it were true that villains to warn youth against vicious practices, the world unfortu- may sometimes pursue a prosperous career, civilly or politi nately exhibits living examples, to which one may point cally, is it prudent to make this known? Beauty, wealth, with a confidence that attention will dwell upon them. public favor, political distinction, were all acquired by "the Not so with characters wholly suppositious-on these the Adventurer;" and, after all, he had some chances to escape mind of youth seldom rests with profit; often with disad- all retribution. Is it wise to tell youth that they may acvantage. To fictitious beings vices are attributed, which quire beauty, wealth, and honors, although they may be youth might otherwise never have heard of; and frequently murderers and seducers, and may in the end have a chance a glare of celebrity is cast around an imaginary person of escape, all other obstacles having been overcome? Again: which never could be witnessed in actual life. Predis are the female sex truly depicted in the tale? I mean, are posed, therefore, against fictitious tales, such as that of not the feinale characters in false positions? Are not the "The Adventurer," and unaccustomed to read them, I am indulgences of the passions too weakly condemned? Are not at all competent to pass a judgment upon the one in not matters, which should if possible never be thought of, disquestion. Besides, as you have given your own sanction cussed in too familiar a way? For my own part, if I could, by circulating it, there may be some indelicacy, as there I would prevent the diffusion of all knowledge or informasurely is some hesitation, on my part, in expressing an tion about crimes, seductions, &c. I would have the tenopinion, which may be at variance with your own. You der mind and memory unspotted by the names even of ofwill excuse me then for not attempting any formal criticism. fences: so that when those names should be first heard, the Relying upon your tolerant spirit, I propose to say only a sound should be harsh and unfamiliar. Your corresponfew words. If you desire to know my opinion of the ten-dent, probably-nay certainly, must mean well-but I doubt dency of the tale, I answer, that iny impression is, that it is more likely to be injurious than beneficial. In his vices even Newman receives in several instances such a coloring as a hero alone merits; but were I to analyze, I should make the commentary as long as the tale. I leave minor points, style, other characters, &c., aside, and look at the likeness of the Adventurer alone. What is the description? My own conceptions of the benevolence, wisdom and power of the Creator of the Universe are such, that I cannot believe that such a person as "The Adventurer" ever existed. He is represented to have been born or made prone to become a viler wretch than even the fancy of a fend could conceive: he is thrust into existence as if it were intended that he should he a villain, and that all ten

the fitness of his materials. I wish he had exercised his powers in depicting the course and end of a truly virtuous man, as the Deity intended him to be-exposed indeed to perils and sorrows, but always finding in his own soul the sweetest consolation in this life, and the reasonable hope of bliss hereafter. The Greek philosophers, or some of them, appear to have considered wicked persons as monsters, deformities, out of the order of nature; and I have been somewhat inclined to that notion myself. Certain it is that the ancients held up a good life as an example, and rarely spoke of an infamous one as a warning. My aim," said Zenocrates, "is to teach you, young men, to do of choice what the Gods and the laws command."

66

I have written this off-hand, as I usually do, and am in

Wishing you health, I am, dear sir, truly and respectfully the cause of truth and to the moral improvement of man. yours,

Mr. T. W. WHITE.

October 8th, 1840.

clined to write it over again-You will, however, excuse volves a sweeping condemnation of all fiction as a vehicle my want of method, of precision or other errors. I write of moral instruction, or even as a source of amusement. I for your own indulgent eye, and hope you will not consider have not space or inclination, at this time, to enter fully inme censorious or too precise. to the question, how far fiction can be made subservient to kind. It is sufficient for my purpose at present to refer to the fact, that some of the wisest men and greatest philoso phers in all ages, have resorted to it as a means of instil. ling those moral precepts which had been the fruit of their My Dear Sir:-A lingering illness of nearly six weeks experience and reflection, and that this method of instruc duration, together with the necessary attention to my pri- tion has been sanctioned even by the Oracles of Inspiration. vate affairs and professional business, neglected during that Those beautiful parables, by which our Saviour illustrated long interval, have prevented me until this time from no- and enforced the principles of our Divine Religion, are striticing the criticism of Mr. B upon the Adventurer, king evidences how potent an auxiliary fiction may become which you were so kind as to enclose to me. His animad- in the propagation of truth. The Grecian philosophers, to has referred, did not disdain the versions, though conceived I doubt not in a spirit of can- whose practice Mr. Bdor, and the result of sincere conviction, appear to me to aid of this powerful engine in impressing their peculiar be susceptible of a conclusive refutation. I have the ut- doctrines on the minds of their disciples, nor did the dimost respect for the character, understanding and opinions vine Plato deem it beneath the dignity of political disquiof Mr. B; but, at the same time, I am constrained to sition. In our own language, I could cite, were it neces think his views of moral instruction exceedingly narrow sary, many distinguished writers, who have made fiction and erroneous. Before I proceed to examine the correct- the handmaid of truth, the vehicle of the profoundest lesness of the principles advanced in his letter, I beg leave to sons of moral instruction. Need I name Addison, Johnprotest against the supposition that I am unduly sensitive son, Goldsmith, Scott, Edgeworth, and a host of others, to the strictures of criticism! The most illiberal review of the lights and ornaments of our literature? Mr. B's the merits of the Adventurer as a literary production would doctrine would proscribe nearly the whole of our elegant not have extracted from me a word of complaint, however literature, whether prose or poetry. Invention is the pecudeep might have been my mortification; because I conceive liar province of poetry, and the sublimest efforts of the that he who presents himself as a candidate for literary muse, in ancient and modern times, derive their principal distinction, should not shrink from the free discussion of interest from being moral fictions. Such were the Iliad his pretensions before the tribunal of public opinion. But and Odyssey among the Greeks, and the Eneid among when I am charged with having sent forth to the world a the Romans. Such is the Paradise Lost in our own lanproduction tending to the contamination of the public mor- guage, a fiction built on a single passage in the Book of Inals, silence under such a charge might be construed into spiration, the object of which was the noblest of all deacquiescence. This imputation has been cast by some, signs, that "of vindicating the ways of God to man." who have not even qualified it by giving me credit for good intentions. I am gratified to perceive that Mr. B- admits that "probably, nay certainly, I must mean well;" that, if I have been the author of a moral pestilence, I was unconscious of the poison I was communicating. To suppose that I have deliberately composed and promulgated a fiction, fraught with the most corrupt principles, and with a premeditated design to sap the morals of my readers, implies a most serious reflection on my character; and to affirm that I have written such a work, unconscious of its tendency, and with innocent, nay laudable intentions, conveys a not less serious imputation on my understanding. In other words, I am placed in the singular dilemma of being considered either a knave or a fool. I confess I have no ambition to fill either of those characters. Conscious that no one can be more chary of the public morals than I have al-natural religion always derived from this very unequal disways been, nor more disposed to condemn and resist every thing calculated to sully their purity, I have felt with the deeper sensibility the objections urged to the moral tendency of the Adventurer, knowing that I had written it with the express design of making vice odious and detestable, and believing that this purpose had been exhibited in the tale in characters intelligible to the dullest and most prejudiced reader. When I saw, too, that those features in my tale which incurred the strongest censure, were sanctioned by the example of the most distinguished classics and the purest moral writers in the English language, I was the less disposed to submit to such mistaken, and, in my judgment, unjust criticism. I have said thus much by way of apology for troubling you with a reply to Mr. B's strictures, which, however erroneous in my opinion, are written in the style and with the feelings of a gentleman, and are therefore entitled to a respectful answer.

Mr. B-sets out with the proposition, that "there is so much reality to be seen, heard, and read about, that he rarely seeks for amusement or instruction from fiction." This in

Mr. Baffirms, that "fiction is not the proper medium for conveying such instruction as mankind need;" that "to wara youth against vicious practices, the world unfortunately exhibits living examples" sufficient for the purpose; while, on the other hand, "to fictitious beings vices are attributed, which youth might otherwise have never heard of, and frequently a glare of celebrity is cast around an imaginary person, which never could be witnessed in actual life." Does he mean to assert, that, in real life, bad men are never successful? That vice never attains that celebrity and distinction, which are the rightful meed of virtue? Does not all history furnish examples to demonstrate the fallacy of such an idea? If we cast our eyes around us, do we not see bad men enjoying every worldly advantage, and frequently occupying the highest places of dignity and trust? And has not the advocate of

tribution of the gifts of fortune the strongest argument, apart from Revelation, in favor of a future state of rewards and punishments? If to represent a profligate man in a work of fiction as fortunate and distinguished, be dangerous to the moral principles of the young, surely the danger must be equally imminent from witnessing similar events in real life, or from reading them in the pages of history. Must history therefore, be sealed up from the eyes of youth. Must the rising generation be immured in monastic seclusion, and kept in ignorance of the transactions of the world? On such a scheme of education, could men ever be trained up to conduct the active business of life? And after all this precaution, the subjects of your experiment may not escape the moral contagion. It is "the pestilence that walketh in darkness, the destruction that wasteth at noon-day." It penetrates into the most retired situations as well as into the public haunts of men. Even the garden of Eden could not be shielded from the machinations of the serpent. Again : how on this system of withholding from the young all knowledge of evil, supposing it practicable, can they “be warned

against vicious practices by living examples ?" And would there not be danger, on Mr. B's own principles, that the very act of pointing to such examples might communicate the moral taint it was intended to guard against?

"Vices may," perhaps, as Mr. B. alleges, "be attributed to imaginary persons which youth might otherwise never have heard of;" but such fictions must be destitute of the chief merit of such writings-that of being accurate pictures of the living world. I must confess however, that I cannot well conceive of any vices that fiction could ascribe to its heroes, which might not be “seen, heard, and read about" in real life.

many others, whose crimes and enormities are attested by history? Would his conceptions of the Divine nature induce him a priori to question the authenticity of the narrative? Would he maintain, that these unfortunate persons have been the victims of prejudice and misrepresentation? That they were not guilty of many of the crimes imputed to them? Or that, if they were, they were atoned for by virtues, the memory of which has been suppressed by the enmity of their contemporaries? If so, he must degrade history into a fiction, to be rejected or believed, according to the preconceived theories of the reader. Mr. B—— will not deny, that there is much moral and physical evil in the world, and that, consequently, the existence of such evil to a certain extent is perfectly compatible with his conceptions of the Divine attributes. Has he any standard to determine what degree of evil may be permitted by the Su

In a subsequent part of his letter to you, Mr. B-professes his belief, that the existence of a character wholly depraved is utterly inconsistent with the benevolent attributes of the Deity. Without inquiring at this time into the truth or falsehood of this belief, I infer from it that Mr. B-preme Being? Can he say, whether it might not consist regards the bad characters, described in history, or exhibited in real life, as compounded of a mixture of vice and virtue, and that he conceives the contemplation of such characters, or an association with them, less pernicious to the morals of youth, than a contact with men, whose evil propensities and practices are unredeemed by a solitary virtue. My observation on human nature has brought me to an entirely opposite conclusion. A character of unmixed depravity would naturally be abhorrent to the unsophisticated feelings of the young; but it is precisely those mixed characters, where gross vices are thrown into the shade by brilliant qualities, by which youth, always ardent and enthusiastic, is most prone to be dazzled and captivated.

with the inscrutable designs of the Deity, in the government of the world, to bring into existence such a character as Newman, as a scourge to mankind?

Admitting Mr. B's proposition, that "the power to control our passions, to discriminate right from wrong, is inherent in every breast, and is exercised from our childhood," yet how many examples do we see of children placed in the most favorable circumstances and under the care of the most conscientious parents, who discover vicious inclinations at a very early period, and grow up without having them eradicated. Mr. B- seems to think, that education can accomplish every thing, and that society has "in its hands all the means needful to disseminate virtue." If by Having premised these observations in reply to Mr. education is meant the moral and mental training, which B's general objections to all fiction, I shall now pro- one human being can give to another, I deny that society ceed briefly to notice his remarks on my unfortunate tale. has the means of making every man virtuous. This can If, as Mr. Balleges, "Newman, even in his vices, re- never happen, until the infant mind receives every impresceives, in several instances, such a coloring as a hero alone sion and every idea from those, who have the care of formmerits," it was certainly contrary to my intention. I de- ing it. In other words, the teacher must have such a persigned to portray in Newman a man, selfish, cold, calcu- fect knowledge of the operations of his pupil's mind, that lating, and destitute of any pretension to virtue, unless per- no impression could be made on it, no idea conceived by it sonal courage can be called a virtue. Whether I have suc- without his knowledge, so that he might instantly apply ceeded in that design, or have been true to nature, I leave the corrective to every thing evil and vicious, while it was to the eritics to determine. Such a character, I supposed, yet, as it were, in embryo. All the improvements in the would be revolting to every well regulated mind, and more art of education, which have been suggested by metaphysiespecially to the uncorrupted feelings of the young. Even cal inquiry, from Aristotle to Dugald Stewart, fall infinitely in the apparently specious reasonings, by which the Adven-short of this standard; and I fear it is one of those things, turer attempts to gloss over his vices and crimes, I endea- that will forever baffle the researches of mankind. vored so to contrive it, that they should lead to such mon- Mr. B- declares, that "he cannot conceive that there strous and startling conclusions as to prevent their imposing ever existed a being who, from his cradle, was vicious, and as he on the shallowest understanding. In short, it was my pur-gradually grew in years, increased in the desire coolly and depose to show the baneful influence of selfishness on the human character, and how completely it will eradicate every fure of virtue from the nature of those who make it the guide of their conduct.

I was somewhat astonished to find, that Mr. B― deries, if I have not misconceived him, the natural depravity of man in his present state. Surely he has forgotten, that the pen of Inspiration has pronounced the human race prone to evil as the sparks to fly upwards." Without entering deeply into the doctrine of original sin, every one's observation will attest, that there are some natures, which seem to have, even from infancy, an incorrigible proclivity to vice. Yet, in delineating the character of Newman, it was not my purpose to furnish an illustration of this remark. Though his vicious propensities and principles developed themselves at a very early period, there is nothing in the tale inconsistent with the idea, that they might have been corrected by a judicious system of education. Mr. B―declares, that "his own conceptions of the benevolence, wisdom and power of the Creator of the Universe are such, that he cannot believe that such a person as the Adventurer ever existed." How then does he account for the existence of such men as Nero, Caligula, Domitian, Casar Borgia, and

liberately to be of choice a villain." Perhaps such a character may never have existed; yet are there not men, who, having yielded in early life to the dominion of their evil passions, have striven, in their maturer age, to palliate, or to justify their depravity, by a system of sophistical reasonings? And is not this identically the case of Anthony Newman? Mr. B― alleges as a ground of critical censure, that Newman is a caricature. I admit it. To overcharge a vicious character, so as to make it as detestable as possible, has always been held allowable in a writer of fiction.

Mr. B is mistaken in supposing that Newman is represented as having felt no remorse during his long life. In that part of his history which professes to be written by himself, he is made to acknowledge compunction for some of his worst acts, and, in the Sequel, he is exhibited as suffering under the keenest pangs of contrition. To Mr. B―'s inquiry, whether, “if it were true, that villains may sometimes pursue a prosperous career, is it prudent to make it known?" I answer, is it possible to conceal it, when all history and the scenes passing around us are replete with examples to verify the fact? The temporary prosperity of Anthony Newman, in the opinion of Mr. B, has an immoral tendency, because, "after all, he had a chance of