LIZZIE MAITLAND.
EDITED BYO. A. BROWNSON.
NEW YORK:
E. DUNIGAN & BROTHER, [JAMES B. KIRKER,]
371 BROADWAY.
1857.ENTERED, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1857, by JAMES B. KIRKEP., In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern District of New York.
PREFACE.
IN coming before the public with this little volume, the Authoress does so with many misgivings as to the success of her enterprise. A little more than two years ago, she saw in Mr. Brownson's Review, what she interpreted as something like the expression of a desire, on the part of its learned editor, to see some Catholic stories from authors, who, born in this country, understand better, because they have themselves felt them, the wants of the people, than those who have never themselves experienced them.
Without any serious intention of attempting to supply this demand; but partly for pastime, partly page: iv-v[View Page iv-v] for an experiment, she commenced a little story intended to give some simple explanation of a few of the dogmas of the Catholic Church, and only those which are most frequently assailed and misrepresented. The story grew under her hands, until it assumed its present form, and in much fear and trembling she sends it forth, hoping that some honest soul, seeking the truth, may find something to assist in clearing away doubt and embarrassment.
She knows well that the same thing has often been done before, in a much more able and finished style; but it sometimes happens that the simple language of a child, or an unlettered person, will give a clearer idea of a plain fact, than the most elaborate explanation of a learned man. There is hardly an old woman in the land, who could not make a child comprehend the meaning of net-work for instance, while Dr. Johnson, with all his erudition, failed to do any thing but involve the idea in such obscurity, that it would require the skill of a magician to make any child understand what it is, from his definition.
While the Authoress deprecates the critics, and appeals to the charity of good Catholics, she will be amply repaid if, from the whole mass, a single ray of truth shall find its way to the depths of one earnest heart.
page: vi-vii[View Page vi-vii]INTRODUCTION.
WHEN the author had proceeded about half way in her story, she read me what she had written. I was so well pleased with it, that I urged her to continue and complete it, promising her, that, with her permission, I would stand its godfather before the public. It probably is no advantage to her that I keep my promise, and add my name as editor instead of hers as author.
I have not abused my office of editor. The book is published as it came to me in manuscript, with the exception of two or three slight verbal corrections, and the addition of a single note to a passage in which the author had given an opinion which she has the right to hold, and which many excellent Catholics do hold, as if it were Catholic doctrine, and a very different opinion on the same subject were not also permitted to be held. I do not like tampering with authors. I wish every one who has a genuine word to say, should say it in his own way.
I have myself read Lizzie Maitland with interest and pleasure. I do not pretend that it is the greatest and most attractive story of the kind ever written, or that it is so artistically perfect that an ill-natured critic can find nothing in it to carp at. It is evident to the reader that the page: viii-ix[View Page viii-ix] design with which it was commenced was abandoned after a few pages, and another taken up; but this is no more than happened to Sir Walter Scott, in writing his Waverley, and the book has gained by it. But though not perfect, I think no one can read the story without awarding the writer great purity of intention, superior ability, and a warm fresh heart, free from sentimentalism, and alive to every thing true, beautiful, and good. The author has observed, thought, and felt, and has written here a chapter of fresh experience of life.
Lizzie Maitland is written by a lady, a convert, and an American; a native, I believe, of the State of New York. This is not said to commend her or her book. A good book is a good book, by whomsoever written. The important question is, What is written? Not, Who wrote it? It is no matter whether our books are written by natives or foreigners, if they are good books, and adapted to our wants. Yet I think it a recommendation that the principal scene of this story is laid in our own country, and that the costume and coloring are derived from American habits and life; not because American life is better, or in itself more poetic, than any other national life, but because all popular literature should tend to embellish and endear the home where they, for whom it is designed, are expected to dwell.
We have a certain amount of popular literature, but we have as yet hardly a popular American literature, Catholic or non-Catholic. We have asserted our political independence, but in literature we are still English colonies. We have no literature properly our own, and Cæsar Cantri, one of the best historical writers of the day, says very truly, that our literature is an offshoot of the English. It is high time for us to assert our literary independence, and the liberal infusion of the Irish element, not overweeningly fond of England, and the spread of Catholicity by immigration, conversion, and the natural increase of the Catholic population, will enable us to do it speedily, and in the most effectual manner. It should be the aim of our Catholic writers to produce a literature that will tend to link together Catholic and American associations, and to make this country, if possible, as dear to the American Catholic heart as France is to the French, Germany to the German, or Ireland to the Irish Catholic heart.
The influence of popular literature in forming the character, especially of the young, can hardly be overrated, and it is always desirable that it should combine religious and patriotic associations; link in the minds of the young home with religion, and religion with home. Its design is to harmonize in some sense the natural with the supernatural. Nature has its place and its uses, and it is always wise to press it into the service of religion, for then religion accepts and hallows it. It is only the Catholic writer, poet, or artist, that can really use nature without abusing it, and cherish a pure, strong, and enlightened patriotism.
Many Catholics object to what are called "Catholic Novels," and I am very free to confess that I have been among the number. The novel is not the literary form that I prefer; but popular literature to be popular, must in some measure conform to the taste of the times. No man has the right to set up his individual taste as the standard of taste for the whole world. There are fashions in literature as well as in dress, and it is an old saying, As well page: x-xi[View Page x-xi] be out of the world as out of the fashion. The novel is at present the reigning fashion, and Catholics as well as others must conform to it, if they wish to catch the popular mind, and influence the popular heart.
We need, even more than is commonly thought, a popular Catholic literature,—a literature which is adapted to the wants of those who will not read grave didactic works, who are too light, too gay, too frivolous, to read purely spiritual or devotional works. We have a rich and living literature amply sufficient for those who take life seriously, understand its true worth and aim; but these, after all, are not the majority in any community, nor those for whom we should feel the greatest solicitude. The devout, the members of pious Confraternities, Living Rosaries, St. Vincent de Paul societies, and the like, are well provided for, and are in little danger; but our solicitude should be chiefly awakened for those who have the faith indeed, and do not dream of abandoning their Church, but who have no special vocation to pious practices or a devout life. The gayety of youth, the play of animal spirits, or the vanities of the world sway them, and render every thing serious and didactic distasteful to them. These are those who need looking after. "They that are whole need not the physician, but they that are sick."
These, I apprehend, constitute the majority of our youth of both sexes, and I suppose always will. We may regret it, but we can hardly prevent it. We cannot make them saints, but we may perhaps prevent the majority of them from being utterly lost. Unhappily, they are at present precisely those among us least cared for, and least benefited by our didactic and pious books. We want a popular literature for them, not too grave or didactic in tone, light, graceful, attractive, which will catch their attention, please their imaginations, interest their affections, and give them now and then a thought which will linger in their memory, and come up as food for meditation in those moments of pause in their vanity and of serious reflection, which come to all.
Especially do we want books which, in a pleasing and unostentatious manner, will make the young familiar with their religion in those points on which they are most likely to misapprehend it, or to find it assailed. A story like the one which follows, will refresh the memory of many of our well instructed Catholic youth, and throw new associations around the faith and worship to which they are more or less indifferent. The more we have of such stories, well adapted to all tastes and tempers, the better.
These little works, half secular in their character, intended to furnish innocent amusement rather than instruction, falling into the hands of non-Catholics, often become the occasion of awakening thoughts and reflections which, with the grace of God, result in conversion to the true faith. In this view of the case I am disposed to encourage the production of lighter Catholic works, and to give them a cordial welcome, whenever they contain nothing positively hurtful. No matter if they are not always original, no matter how great their variety, or various their degrees of merit, each will have something good for some mind, and perhaps be the occasion of preventing the fall of some one, or of restoring a soul to God.
The little work I here introduce to the public stands in no need of this defence of Catholic literature. It carries its own defence and recommendation with it. It is the page: xii-1[View Page xii-1] author's first attempt, and gives promise of greater and better things hereafter; but, though not free from defects incident to inexperience, it is sound and healthy in tone, and contains scenes, passages, and descriptions, which our most practised writers would be happy to have written.
With these introductory remarks, I leave the work to make its own friends, and to find its own place in our popular Catholic literature, which needs all the contributions that are made to it.
THE EDITOR.
