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Letters from New York. Second Series. By L. M. Child. New York. C. S. Francis, & Co. 1845.
The great popularity of the first series of Mrs. Child's letters from New York, will insure a hearty welcome and a larcee sale for this new volume. Without possessing any of the charms which private epistles derive from their confidential revelations and bits of private scandal that all people love, the letters of Mrs. Child make a direct appeal to [page 296:] every human heart and cause the reader to feel as though they had been addressed to himself personally. It is because the author opens her own heart that she gains admission to the hearts of others so rapidly. Nothing will so disarm reserve as confidence; ice can alone be melted by heat; hatred and anger must he overcome by love and kindness. Bitter, sarcastic writers can never hope for popularity, or at least love. We rarely see one of Swift's essays carried about as a pocket companion, but the good natured genial writings of Goldsmith are oftener bound up as pocket volumes than the works of any other author. The popularity of Mrs. Child's letters must be attributed to a similar cause; and to the fact that they treat of human beings and things that interest humanity. The sympathies of men are more wide than we are apt to believe. The stories of washerwomen, of street-sweepers and little beggar children, interest us beyond the most elaborate histories of merely official personages. Mrs. Child instinctively seizes upon subjects which are interesting to all classes, to men and women rather than to sta:esmen, or ladies and gentlemen. The present volume of her letters has a most taking table of contents. ‘Christmas,” Ole Bul,’ ‘ New Year's Festivities,’‘ Valentine's Day,’ ‘Fourth of July,’ ‘Children in Union Park,’ Genius and Skill,’ Greenwood Cemetery,’ ‘The Violin,’ ‘Autumn Woods,’ ‘The Spirite of Trade,’ ‘Sir Harry Falkland;’ these are some of the titles to the letters; suggestive of charming reading and delightful heart-touching subjects.
We make an extract from the last letter.
Rapid approximation to the European style of living is more and more observable in this city. The number of servants in livery visibly increases every season. Foreign artistic upholsterers assert that there will soon be more houses in New York furnished according to the fortune and taste of noblemen, than there are either in Paris or London; and this prophesy may well be believed, when the tact is considered that it is already not very uncommon to order furniture for a single room, at the cost of ten thousand dollars. There would be no reason to regret this lavishness, if the convenience and beauty of social environment were really increase in proportion to the expenditure, and if there were a progressive tendency to equality in the distribution. But, alas, a few moments’ walk from saloons superbly furnished in the style of Louis 14th, brings us to Loafer's Hall, a dreary desolate apartment, where shivering little urchins pay a cent apiece, for the privilege of keeping out of watchmeu's hands, by sleeping on boards ranged in tiers.
But the effects of a luxurious and artificial life are sad enough on those who indulge in it, without seeking for painful contrast among the wretchedly poor. Sallow complexions, feeble steps, and crooked spines, already show an obvious deterioration in beauty, grace, and vigor. Spiritual bloom and elasticity are still more injured by modes of life untrue to nature. The characters of women suffer more than those of men, because their resources are fewer. Very many things are considered unfeminine to be done, and of those duties which arc feminine by universal consent, few are deemed genteel by the upper classes. It is not genteel for mothers to wash and dress their own, children, or make their clothing, or teach them, or romp with them in the open air. Thus the most beautiful and blessed of all human relations performs but half its healthy and renovating mission. The full, free, joyful growth of heart and soul is everywhere impeded by artificial constraint, and nature has her fountains covered by vanity and pride. Some human souls, finding themselves fenced within such narrow limits by false relations, seek fashionable distinction, or the excitement of gossip, flirtation. and perpetual change. because they can find no other untorbidden outlets fur the irrepressible activity of mind and heart. A very few, of nature's noblest and strongest, quietly throw off the weight that presses on them, and lead a comparatively true life in the midst of shams, which they reprove only by example. Those who can do this; without complaint or noise, and attempt no defence of their peculiar course, except the daily beauty of their actions, will work out their freedom at last, in the most artificial society that was ever constructed; but the power to do this requires a rare combination of natural qualities. For the few who do accomplish this difficult task, I even feel more respect than I do for those who struggle upward under the heavy burden of early poverty. “For wealth hears heavier on talent, than poverty. Under gold mountains and thrones, who knows how many a spiritual giant may lie crushed down and buried!” I once saw a burdock shoot up so vigorously, that it threw off a piece of board in the platform, which covered it from light and air. I had great respect for the brave plant, and even carried my sympathy so far, as to reproach myself for not having lifted the board it was trying so hard to raise, instead of watching it curiously, to see how much it could do. The pressure of artificial life, I cannot take off from souls that are born in the midst of it; and few have within themselves such uplifting life as the burdock.
It is one of the saddest sights to see a young girl, born of wealthy [column 2:] and wordly [[worldly]] parents, full of heart and soul, her kindly impulses continually checiced by etiquette, her noble energies repressed by genteel limitations. She must not presume to lose anybody, till father and mother find a suitable match; she must not laugh loud because it is vulgar; she must not walk fast because it is ungenteel; she must not work in the garden, for fear the sun and wind may injure her complexion; she must sew nothing but gossamer, lest it mar the delicacy of her hands; she must not study, because gentlemen do not admire literary ladies. Thus left without ennobling objects of interest, the feelings and energies are usually concentrated on frivolous and unsatisfactory pursuits, and woman becomes a by-word and a jest, for her giddy vanity, her love of dress and beaux.
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Notes:
This review was specifically rejected as being by Poe by W. D. Hull.
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[S:0 - BJ, 1845] - Edgar Allan Poe Society of Baltimore - Works - Criticism - Literary (Briggs ?, 1845)