THE CANTERBURY TALES.
To read the Canterbury Tales of the Misses LEE once more,. is species of temporary regeneration. There is scarcely any edu cated person of this century who has not, at some time or • other of youth, drawn a sincere pleasure from their pages. The different. tales have been to many like turning down a leaf in life : we can find our place again in juvenile existence by the associations connected with them. The Officer's Tale, perhaps, was read on some sunny bank in a pleasant land—a stolen pleasure. The Young Lady's. Tale unfolded all its intricacy on some fair sofa of a well-remem• bered apartment. On the German's Tale, perhaps, two hearts beat in unison, trembled in harmony, and when, sharing a mutual agitation, two heads bent over the mystic page, they turned round to see each other's fright reflected in well-known and well-loved fea- tures. Even now we feel a shiver running over the frame, as we call to mind the fearful whisper of the name of Kruitzner amidst the silent throng of a kneeling congregation in the cathedral. Such a memoria technica has its charm ; and we may be pardoned for approaching this number of the Standard Novels with feelings of far more interest than we take up any new novel of the day.
The style and character of these Tales present a favourable ex- ample of the romantic literature of England at the close of the last century; and in the mind of any observer, cannot fail of suggest- ing numerous topics of comparison with that of the present day. In these writings, all is composed, deliberate, and finished : we see no galloping haste, no capricious desertions of the subject : an author then wrote under feelings of deep respect for the public as a body ; and by smoothing down all offensive indications of pecu- liarity or extravagance, attempted to conciliate the universal good Opinion. If, on a review of the work in progress, any part appeared susceptible of improvement, whole chapters, and even volumes, were recast : no labour was thought too great for the reward of success. At the present day, it would seem that the more writers there are, the less pains are to be taken ; and, as if the great quantity written did not render preeminence more difficult to be obtained, and greater efforts necessary, authors think—more espe- cially the authors of popular novels—that their pen cannot make a mark on the paper which ought not to be preserved, printed, sold, and circulated. The most indecent hurry is evident on the face of the greater part of such productions : they are composed without reference to a plan; they contain the grossest inconsistencies : and are replete with instances of carelessness, bad taste, rough style, defective reasoning, and frequently very defective English. Another remarkable difference consists in the intrusion of the per- sonal feelings and the individual experience of the author. For- merly, writers, of fiction more especially, were impersonal; to speak of themselves would have been thought indecorous. If we remember rightly, FIELDING never speaks of himself but once ; and it is in that affecting little touch, the more affecting that the instance was rare, when he refers to his future fame, at a time "when the little parlour in which he is writing shall be changed for a far worse-furnished box." SMOLLETT is supposed to shadow forth his own history in Roderick Random: but still, how deep is the veil he throws over himself! Mrs. RADCLIFFE might have been a spirit for any thing which would prove her iden- tity in her novels; and it is in vain to look for any traces of the authoresses' history in the Canterbury Tales. Whereas, at present, every romance or novel is a species of autobio- graphy: the first novel runs through the whole life of the au- thor, and the next introduces us to all his acquaintances. For characters, he looks at the visiting-book; for incidents, to the transactions of his family. Here is a difference ; but we allow that it is not always for the worse. Something may be lost by impersonality, and much may be gained by the vividness of indivi- dual recollection : the mischief is, that the useful habit of gene- ralizing and selecting is lost, and invention dwindles into reporting. The degeneracy of which we speak, not affecting on the whole the vigorous exertions of genius, and chiefly showing its baneful influence in writers of a very second-rate merit, we regret most from its effect on mere matters of style and composition. A writer who might be incapable of the higher flights of genius— whose invention was not profound, or whose perception of the de- tails of character was blunt—had still the power, by the culti- vation of taste and the application of labour, to give birth to very charming compositions. It is in this light chiefly that we now value the writings of the Misses LEE. Their tales do not exhibit any high qualities of mind ; but still they are carefully composed, beautifully written ; the sentiments are generous and refined, the morals pure, the incidents romantic. Character is not developed with the inspiration of genius, neither is nature sketched with the enthusiasm of a worshipper: still, the world is viewed en beau; a sort of poetical faith sheds a soft and tranquil light over their scenes, and disposes the soul to the joys of friendship and the plea- sures of humanity. Style, upon works of this sort, has some of the effects of well-managed light upon pictures : it softens the ab- rupt, it harmonizes the harsh, and combines parts which nature has not joined : it spreads over all an atmospheric softness, which adds imaginary charms to the distant, and new beauties to the near. We could, if our limits permitted, illustrate the importance of mere style, by a selection of a few passages from the volumes before us: we fear, however, that the claims of modern books are too pressing to permit us to make extracts from the works of the last ceutuxy.
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