NOTICES OF BOOKS.

The Greyson Letters: Selections from the Correspondence of R. E. H. Greyson, Esq. Edited by HENRY ROGERS, Author of "The Eclipse of Faith." "Reason and Faith, their Claims and Conflicts," etc. Boston: Gould & Lincoln. 1857.

Mr. Rogers has become widely and favourably distinguished among the Christian writers of our day, by the two former works mentioned in the titlepage of the present. Though appearing as but the Editor of the Greyson Letters, he is well known to be really the author of them; which fact is pleasantly hinted in the Editorial Preface, thus: "It is impossible, I think, that the reader should not discern certain similarities in sentiment and style between this volume and some parts of the Eclipse of Faith. I beg to say,-on the principle of suum cuique,-that I am largely indebted to Mr. Greyson for his contributions to that work. Indeed, I willingly ascribe to him the far larger share of whatever merit an indulgent public has been pleased to see in it, and to take all its faults to myself."

Somewhat the same, no doubt, is to be said as to the persons to whom these Letters are nominally addressed. For the several letters purport to be selections from a private correspondence, and have the form of personal address. But the persons are evidently of the same race and lineage as Mr. Greyson himself had any one proceeded to interrogate them as to their origin or habitat, he would have found that, like the Weird Sisters, "they made themselves air, into which they vanished." So that the book is made up of private letters written for the public eye. If it be asked, what could be the use of such a trick of make-believe? the answer probably is, that the writer could thus indulge certain harmless whims and crotchets without any obvious impropriety: strains of banter and persifiage, various forms of elaborate nonsense, divers frolicsome audacities of wit, and other premeditated spontaneities, would seem to be in keeping, as the droppings of that negligence and mental dishabille, which sweetens the confidence of private intercourse.

To leave names, and come to things, this book is merely a collection of essays, neither more nor less; though of essays written with somewhat more of freedom or abandon than is commonly thought decorous when one offers himself directly and formally to the public. Whether the book will accomplish any good, in doing away the ordinary reserve of authorship; or whether it be desirable to have that reserve done away; are questions about which readers will be very likely to differ. Meanwhile, we are inclined to think, that in some respects these essays would have been better, if the author had stood under somewhat more of restraint in writing them. We suspect that, if he had had the fear of the public judgment directly before his eyes, his wit would have been in less danger of running into irreverence, his levity more apt to stop short of profanity, his powers of satire more likely to keep within the bounds of candour and justice.

Howbeit, the book, from beginning to end, overflows with cleverness.

Though the author's mind seems to us rather of the critical than the positive stamp, he shows here, as usual, considerable variety and exactness of scholarship, great promptness and energy of wit, and, if not a strong and muscular logic, at least a certain controversial shrewdness and fertility that may well be mistaken for it. And here we cannot forbear to notice a remark that occurs in the Advertisement to the American Edition. The writer there makes bold to assure us that while the book shows the author "to be the peer of Bishop Butler as a reasoner, it also shows him to be not inferior to Charles Lamb as a humourist." Think of that! the logic of Butler and the humour of Lamb all brewed up together and concentrated in one bottle! We have seldom met with a more unlucky metaphor; that is, supposing the thing to be spoken seriously. But, if it be meant as a stroke of wit or humour, then it is palpably unjust to the accomplished author, as provoking comparisons which he has done nothing to warrant. We hardly need say that Mr. Rogers, as he himself would doubtless be the first to acknowledge, is not to be named along with that great prince of reasoners. As a logician, he never approaches Butler, save in what he has evidently learned from Butler.

As to the article of humour, we have failed to discover anything in the book, we will not say, that should set him in the same rank with Lamb, but that should bring him anywhere within the category of humourists. Of wit he has indeed a pretty liberal stock, though not so much, nor so good, but that he sometimes grossly misuses it; but he has no claim to be regarded as an humourist but upon the supposal of wit and humour being one and the same thing; which is such a mistake as should nonsuit a man's judgment in any question of the sort. For our present purpose, the two things may be suf ficiently discriminated by remarking, that wit is more the jubilee of the head, and prompts us to laugh at others; humour more the jubilee of the heart, and makes us laugh with others. Mr. Rogers has a quick and keen eye for the weak and ludicrous points of atheism and infidelity; he scents and searches them out with exquisite gust, and often exposes them with masterly effect; but contempt, and not sympathy, is the law of his dealing with them instead of playing with them kindly and genially, as a man of true humour would do, he proudly and scornfully triumphs over them; exults in his own superiority to those on the other side, and makes himself merry at their expense, but never draws them into a fellowship of mirth: they are his victims, not his brethren. Therefore it is, that humour is a so much safer weapon than wit,-safer both for those who use it, and for those on whom it is used. It naturally reconciles charity with rectitude, friendship for the sinner with enmity to the sin humour may laugh a man out of his vices or follies, by making him laugh too; while wit would but confirm him in them, by raising laughter at his expense: that is, in short, the one works by sympathy, the other by antipathy. And so common experience teaches us that kind feelings and all the tender regards of affection naturally choke a jibing and sarcastic spirit ; while they as naturally invite the genial heart-frolic in which humour speaks. You may help the patient by making him laugh with you; whereas, by making him feel that he was laughed at, you would only help his disease.

Nor, if we may trust our own impressions, is the wit of Mr. Rogers, as3 displayed in these Letters, by any means of the highest quality. He writes too much as if, having become somewhat reputed for wit, he had gone to affecting that reputation, and so could hardly bear to lay off that character, or to appear in any other. So that a certain incontinence of wit is almost the characteristic of his writing. As Iago esteemed himself to be "nothing if not critical," so Mr. Rogers, apparently, thinks his whip will not be duly felt unless it crack out in a sharp witticism. And this, too, although, meanwhile, his subjects are generally such, that, in the handling of them, wit, to be keenly relished, ought to be strictly incidental, and is scarce felt to be witty if used otherwise. Salt is indeed good as a savour; but, if one undertake to dire upon salt, it ceases to be a savour, without becoming food. To sum up our notion of the author on this point, his wit, prompt and vigorous as we allow it to be, is rather of the palpable and superficial kind, than of the aerial and pervasive; it is rather thick and fulsome, than delicate and refined; you recognize it too quick; catch its flavour before it gets fairly into you; like those wines that spend their virtue on the tongue, not in the blood; there being a lack of that slyness and subtle guile, which mark the highest forms of wit, causing them to penetrate stealthily, and stir a quiet rapture in the depths of the mind, without any sensible flutter on the surface.

We have spoken, above, of what seems to us an occasional, of not more than occasional, misuse of wit. Here is an instance if what we mean, from the letter on the Essentials of Friendship:

I don't know how it may be with you, but I can fancy a man saying even in heaven: "Do you know angel So and So? He is really a most worthy, excellent, estimable angel, but somehow we can't get on well together; he is a fine tall creature; of a noble presence; has beautiful wings; flies well; but, to speak the truth, he is a shade too musical for me; is too fond of his singing; will sing you. through the 119th Psalm without stopping, and then begin agaiu: or he is a little too light and airy, will come flying through my open window when I would rather be alone, or alight, like some swallow in our old world, upon my roof, and twitter and chirp there, of course most divinely, for the hour together; or he is a thought too prosy, and bores me a little with philosophy; or-he is too knowing, and has been here too long to enable me to understand him fully; he is always recurring to that little tour he made of the universe fifty thousand years ago; or-he is too much of a virtuoso for my taste, and is full of that inimitable collection of cockleshells, flies, and the sixty thousand species of amaranth which he has gathered from two thousand different worlds; or he is too much of a Public Angel for me. He is always for dragging me to great assemblies' and New Jerusalem gatherings,' when I would rather spend half of my time in some quiet nook of the everlasting hills,' and muse alone. All this I say I can imagine; I can imagine that even in heaven tastes differ;" but the beauty of the place will be, that tastes shall give no offence, for no one will be offended with you for not sympathizing with them. Yes-will you, can you believe it?-you may actually stop angel A in his singing, at the hundredth stanza, and he won't take any offence at it. You may say that you do not altogether sympathize with angel B's dearest friend, and he won't think the worse of you for it. Pray take the hint.

Now, this is exceedingly clever; nay, there is something higher than clever. ness, there is genius, in it: there is a trimness and punctuality of imagery ; a playfulness of fancy so brisk, yet so austere; the transitions and combina tions are so unexpected, yet so graceful; with a touch here and there so ludi

erous in its connection, yet so suggestive of the sublime, that the whole effect is quite charming. But is not the wit somewhat mistimed? We profess to relish an honest and healthy freedom of step even in walks that are sacred ; our moral sentiments, we hope, are not of the straitlaced order, nor our moral taste at all queasy or prudish: but we have to own that there is something within us which revolts at the freedom here used; and also a higher something which declares that revolt to be right: it is the same feeling with which, in our better moments, we are wont to pronounce," Hallowed be Thy name;" the same which, we must think, ought to arise at the words, "Put the shoes from off thy feet, for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground."

Very many of these Letters are, in substance, or purpose, or both, of an ethical or theological vein. In the Christian argument, especially the nega tive part of it, the author evinces a singular mastery. The whole encyclopedia of what are called "the evidences" he seems to have at his tongue's end. So that with all sorts of infidels he proves a very adroit and formidable strategist, as well as a giver of hard and well-aimed blows face to face. In these questions, as in others, his forte lies mainly in a sort of argumentative badinage, turned so shrewdly that it seldom fails to make his antagonistsappear ridiculous. We should not wonder if they all agreed to pass him by as a scoffing persifleur; but he says a good many things that will stick to them, and are not to be wiped off by any bandying of opprobrious epithets. The weak spot in his arguments on this theme seems to be, that they do not proceed upon a sufficient acknowledgment or consciousness of the real difficulties of the Christian cause. He is much better at exposing the difficulties of the other side, than at clearing up those of his own. We could certainly wish he had shown more of respect for an honest skepticism, and in his dealings with infidels had taken more pains to have his positions such as they could accept; to make them satisfied with his ground, as well as dissatisfied with their own. And he displays, we think, too much fondness for one particular line of argument, which seems liable to very grave objections. It is the hopelessness of the infidel cause, even allowing it to be the cause of truth; smartly stated in one place as follows: "On the supposition that Paul was not inspired, one of two things is, I think, abundantly plain; either he must have been so prodigiously clever, that men will never escape the toils in which he has caught them; or they are such fools that you cannot hope to deliver them." In the course of the book, this thought is recurred to again and again, run into divers forms, and made to do a good deal more work than it can well bear.

On the whole, however, the book is one of very great interest and value; and if our criticism have been rather exacting, it is because the author will bear holding to a high standard. He does not spare others, and can well afford to be himself unspared. Moreover, he is one of those from whom much should be required, because to them much has been given. In the pages before us he discusses a great variety of topics, and nearly all of them in a manner that can hardly fail at once to delight and to instruct. Among other things, he has a series of letters on novel-reading, which we could wish that some millions of

young men and maidens in our country would make a thorough study of; that is, provided they have sense enough to be capable of anything better than the sentimental fatuities and platitudes and vapidities of second or third rate fictionmongers. There is also a brace of letters on The Atonement, in which the author most effectually cuts the sinews of certain thrusters at that doctrine. We abstain from any special notice of such as have it for their leading purpose to entertain and amuse, because readers need no help in finding their way to things of that sort. But we are moved to make particular mention of the series addressed To a Deist, which, it seems to us, may justly challenge a conspicuous place among our standard defences of Christianity. It is a piece of close-knit, wiry argument steeped in satire, and driven home upon poor Deism with prodigious spirit and force. The whole is capitally done, and will bear repeated perusal. As a not unfavourable specimen of the author's manner, take the following, from the mock advice with which he teases and banters the deists as to the best means of superseding Christianity, and disabusing mankind of its delusions:

Considering the notorious influence which a certain vivid embodiment of Moral Ideal, exhibited in dramatic action, has exerted, I think it would be well that you should also exhibit such an ideal ;—such a delineation as would at once arrest and fascinate the gaze of humanity more perfectly than the One Only Portrait which so many have hitherto pronounced inimitable and divine. I admit, indeed, that in consequence of the traditional veneration which the world already entertains for that picture, your ideal may for a while labour under some disadvantage; but surely, as so many of your writers have insisted that there are manifold and manifest blemishes in the earlier one, and have even thought that, after all, it is by no means a perfect, indeed a very defective, representation of absolute virtue and moral loveliness, you can, by rectifying the errors and presenting a still more faultless picture, counterpoise this adventitious advantage. I am so charmed with the idea, that I am quite impatient to see the thing done!

It will be a foolish modesty of you,-cultivated and able men as you are,-to whom all literature is open, and with such a model to improve upon, to decline this task; nay, it will be ridiculous, considering what Galilean Jews, in your estimation grossly ignorant, have done unaided; and more than once-nay, four several times. To be beaten by them-think of the shame of it! I cannot for a moment imagine that you will have the slightest difficulty in the matter if your theory of the origin of the Gospel be true!

There is one thing, however, I would earnestly caution you against: do not let your imaginative forms be so exquisite as to make mankind take them, as they have done the "mythical or fictitious element" in the New Testament (your theory supposes it is legendary or fictitious) for genuine history; do not, I warn you, so transcend Homer and Shakespeare (for even their creations were never in danger of being so misinterpreted) as to make people fancy your fable fact; or else, not only will you fail of your object, but will have added unexpectedly another to the many historical religions. On remarking to our friend S―, the other day, that this would be a necessary result of any such fatal mistake, he said, laughing, that he thought there was not much fear of it, and that my cantion was superfluous. "Still," said I, "since the thing has been done (intentionally or not), according to the theory of these reformers, it seems but wise and kind to put them on their guard. It would be mortifying to have the world deluded a second time."

These charms of the imaginative element I think it the more important to insist upon, because, as you are aware, Deism has been hitherto at such cruel disadvantage, from the absence of them. Such dreary, pithless, marrowless old speculators as the elder Deists have seldom been seen; to look through their