[British Critic, vol. 24, July 1838.]
This is the work of a clever and observant person, though not practised in writing. It is a tale with little incident and no ending; or rather it is an attempt at a tale, which is left unravelled. But in truth its object is very different from that of putting out of hand a well-managed plot, being no other than to recommend the Roman Catholic religion to the favourable notice of the English Protestant; and accordingly it is made up principally of discussions on various points of faith and usage and sketches of character, such as are naturally suggested by the present state and peculiarities of religious parties. In these sketches we conceive the merit of the book lies, for the argumentative portion, as far as it is on the offensive, though not deficient in smartness, is not beyond the ability, and scarcely beyond the opinions, of any one who is not blinded by Ultra-Protestantism; and as far as it is a defence of Romanism, it fails strangely even in matters of fact. Similar failure attends its Roman Catholic sketches, which form an exception, as all readers will feel, to the general spirit and effectiveness of the author’s style. It may be, that caricature is much easier than correct drawing, or that true excellence cannot be delineated by a few strokes, or brought out in its substance at the will of a writer; but, however we account for it, De Grey, Angela, Lady Winefride, and Mr. Bernard are but varieties of the “pius Æneas,” with the same ambition in the writer, the same failure in the production.
The other characters, however, are for the most part amusingly drawn, and some of them, it must be confessed, good hits. There is a religious indifferentist, with a sufficient insight into the absurdities of the popular ways of thought, a hankering after Catholicity, and a kindness towards the imaginative parts of Romanism; a Whig lord enduring Protestantism and Romanism, yet attached to neither; a High-Church Oxford divine; a Reformation-Society Protestant; a pert young lady inclined to the Presbyterian persuasion; and a parish clergyman of the modern school, amiable, active, uxorious and absurd. Among these personages the heroine moves, being the only child of a widowed father, and heiress of his estates, who, after going through the phases of Protestantism, as it exists among us, seeks for something deeper and truer in Anglicanism, or, as Mr. Palmer more correctly speaks in his recent work, Anglo-Catholicism; is disappointed, and at length finds in the Church of Rome the refuge which she is in quest of.
Geraldline, a name which the reader may have already had sagacity enough to give her, is represented as driven from Protestantism by its endless janglings and changes; and from the Anglican Church by the inconsistency at present existing between its principles and practice. She has been originally brought to serious thoughts about religion by members of what is called the evangelical party; for a time she is in a state of great happiness, till she finds herself involved in the disputes and wanderings which it may be said to consist of, rather than to contain. She falls in with Romanists, and wishes to believe a creed which promises to give the peace and stability which she so much needs. In this state of mind she thus speaks to her intimate friend, the Presbyterian already mentioned.
“Kate! Kate! tell me not that every Bible reader knows the truth: I am weary of this repeated but unsatisfactory answer; I have proved its hollowness. You know well the increased interest I took in religion three years ago,—the confidence I placed in the body of professing Christians, both in this neighbourhood and in London, and the conspicuous part which, from my zeal and my position here, I was induced to take in the various religious associations set on foot. What has become of those Bible readers?—those I most trusted! One has ceased to pray, and now can only praise, being certain of salvation; another has joined the Baptists, being dissatisfied with ‘infant baptism;’ and my former excellent governess, and still dear friend, has become infatuated by the doctrines of the ‘Miraculous Gifts;’ and has even been worked upon, by the frenzy of excitement, to utter those sounds which her party denominate the ‘Unknown Tongue!’ She has ceased to communicate with any of her former acquaintances, as being without the pale of the true Church, which has received baptism by the Holy Ghost; but she still yearns after me with the feelings of a sister. I have received several letters from her, and what think you is her constant entreaty? That I will read the Bible, and nothing but the Bible! pointing out to me the chapter hitherto so neglected during centuries, and reserved for these latter days, to be brought to light by the perfected Church. You know the chapter, Katharine; it is the fourteenth of Corinthians, in which there is certainly most distinct mention made by the Apostle of those very gifts of the Spirit, which, like the power of healing, the Irvingites contend would never have been lost but through want of faith. Now, Katharine, I have looked far too deeply into the cause of all this wild, unstable conduct, longer to suppose it the fault of the individuals who have so wandered astray. It is the system which I see is wrong,—the system of private interpretation of Scripture; and hence, however I may pity, I can never blame its victims.”—vol. i. pp. 9, 10.