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PREFACE

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THE SECOND EDITION.

FEW books, recently issued from the press, have evoked more discordant criticism than Mr. Greyson's "Letters." They are, according to different authorities, "very amusing," "very stupid," "very profound," " very shallow." According to one critic, no “real correspondence" was ever so dull; according to another (equally disposed to condemn though on other grounds), "the letters are very lively and pleasant reading." "No," exclaims a third, rather notorious for sceptical tendencies, and shocked at Mr. Greyson's egregious want of" charity" in the treatment of "Secularism," they are "too offensive to be dull,"-forgetting that his own columns too often prove that it is very possible to be both. If you believe some writers, Mr. Greyson's "Letters" are full of "wit, logic, and imagination" to a degree Mr. Greyson himself would never have suspected, except for such critical aid. If you believe others, his reasonings are full of "shallow sophisms;" and his humour and wit (such as they are) of the most contemptible kind. According to one,

nothing can be more "prosy" than Mr. Greyson; according to another, who laughs at this Aristarchus for saying so, few writers are more "piquant and fresh." His style, in one critic's estimate, is "genuine, racy English ;" in that of another, it abounds in "slip-slop," and "balderdash," and all sorts of vulgarisms. In short, seldom has there been such a Babel of criticism as this poor book provoked.

The form of the composition, that of private letters,does not permit the Editor to make alterations, except by omission, or the correction of an occasional error of the press; otherwise it would be very mortifying to be thus disabled, through the very contrariety of criticisms, from profiting by them. Clearly, however, it would be impossible in the present case for it is impossible to reconcile contradictions. All that is left, therefore, is to set one contradictory sentence of criticism against another- the plus of eulogy against the minus of vituperation; or equate, as is perhaps mathematically just, both the praise and censure to- nothing.

He was not a little amused at the criticism of one of the chief Transatlantic "Quarterlies" on the American reprint of the book. The critic affirmed that if this correspondence had been a real correspondence, he should have thought Mr. Greyson among the most agreeable letter-writers he had ever chanced to meet with; but leaves the reader to infer that, as they are only fictitious, he can allow no such merit. It is certainly odd that a presumed work of fiction should be thought to forfeit its claims to praise on account of its approaching the tone of reality.

The public will doubtless form a just judgment about Mr. Greyson; but, supposing these letters are not real, it may be permitted to suggest that since they are written in the form of real letters, they ought unquestionably to conform to their spirit and manner. The generality of fictitious

letters, all the world knows, have been sermonettes, not letters; which begin with" My dear friend " instead of" Dearly beloved brethren," and end with "Yours affectionately" instead of "Amen." If Mr. Greyson's letters be fictitious, the writer has not erred on that side. He may, however, have erred on the other, like Dumas's Chinese tailor, who imitated the French captain's trowsers so perfectly as to reproduce even the oil-stains which had spoilt them, and which had necessitated an application to the Chinese powers of imitation,

in this case only too perfect. Mr. Greyson may here and there have erred in a similar way; and, if he has, will be readily pardoned by the candid; for, as every one who tries will find, letters wholly fictitious are an exceedingly difficult species of composition; that is, if they are to possess any thing approaching veri-similitude.

Further, since in "fictitious" letters a writer who really wishes to imitate nature must copy the manner and tone of real letters, the reader ought not to expect a grave treatise. Most of Mr. Greyson's critics, the Editor frankly admits, have had the sense to see this; others, and especially those who care least for theology, have proceeded to criticise the volume precisely as they would a folio on divinity; and, strange to say, have been able to look at nothing in it but the theology!

As to the persiflage in some of the letters, the Editor said enough in explanation of that in the original preface. The generality of Mr. Greyson's critics have fairly kept this in mind, and concede that the tone and expression are such as may be expected in familiar letters. Certainly, it would be easy to find modes of treating serious subjects quite as light in most collections of familiar letters, in those of Cowper, for example. If some should perversely say, "But these are not real letters; " the answer has been already given.

Ought they not, on that supposition, to be written as if they were? Ought a man, professing to paint the clouds, to paint the sea?

Real or fictitious, however, worthless or valuable, the periodicals have thought proper to extract more than half of these letters; and as the public have thereby been lured on to purchase the whole edition, the Editor presumes that they are not wholly displeasing; and cheerfully complies with the wishes of the publishers to re-issue them in one volume, and a cheaper form.

The Editor was one day expressing to a friend his amusement at the strangely discordant opinions of the press: "Do you not see the reason of it? was the reply: "the periodicals that are most angry that assume the most solemn airs — are those that usually advocate latitudinarian opinions in religion; some of them are of distinctly infidel character. It is the theology in Mr. Greyson's letters that is so offensive; and though such matter occupies but a third or so of the whole, and only opinions, not persons are attacked, it would be quite sufficient to make these critics angry, even if the literary parts had had ten times the merit; for there are no persons so thin-skinned, when their opinions are attacked, as this class of men, who yet would fain be supposed superior to all such sensitiveness."

It cannot be denied that the "odium theologicum" is apt to be bitter enough even in those who have a theology; but it is never so bitter as in those who have none !

Several of our "freethinking" critics are full of indignation and horror at the religious "levity" of the writer; and are confident that what he has written, and the way he has written it, must damage the "orthodox" cause rather than benefit it: whereupon, one would say, they ought to be very glad of heart, instead of getting into a passion. Others among

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