14 OCTOBER 1854, Page 18

THREE NOVELS. * Life's Lesson is an American fiction, well enough

exhibiting some curious points in American manners, though we do not precisely seize the " lesson " in life it inculcates,—unless it be that a domes- tic hero should not fail in his career through a habit of tippling, and die of liquor and chagrin. As George Watson is only one of the lovers, it may be that the instance of Mr. Steele is propounded for consideration ; the lesson deducible from his ease being, that a man of a certain cast of mind should marry a woman of a humble submissive nature, while his intellectual love should be reserved for a genius, whose remembrance should stimulate him to aspire even to Congress. Or perhaps the lesson of life is to be enforced by Jane Levering, born Lorton ; who seems to marry Mr. Levering for his wealth and position, while in heart attaohed to George Wat- son, and does not finally learn to love her husband till George has drunk himself to death. There is also a Mr. Kirk, who in conse- quence of being jilted in youth passes his life in wild back-wood and prairie adventures, till, when turned of fifty, the hymn " They are coming home," sung at a Methodist love-feast, and a sight of his old friend Ellen Mason in years, induce a regretful train of thought over his wasted life ; and thus we reach " the end."

• Life's Lesson; a Tale. Published by Low and Co,

Lights and Shadows of Australian Life. By Mrs. Charles Clacy. Author of "A Lady's Visit to the Guld-Diggings." In two volumes. Published by Hurst ond Blackett. Idaline; a Story of the Egyptian Bondage. By Airs. 3. B. Webb, Author of "Naomi," &c. Published by Bentley. The want of art shown in selecting the vice of the lowest vulgar, or circumstances of questionable nature and imperfectly developed, to point a moral, is further displayed in the execution. One half of the work is occupied with social events and dialogues of too com- mon a kind for fiction, as they do not directly carry on the story, and are therefore scenes to be let. This might have been of less con- sequence had the principal male persons been more attractive; but they raise the dislike rather than the sympathy of the reader. Mr. Steele is a self-sufficient, rather selfish personage, provincial in manner, but aping a metropolitan tone. George Watson, who from the conspicuous part he plays may be considered the hero, is more self-sufficient, still more selfish, with an exacting disposition and a do-nothing tendency, which promise worse for Ellen Mason than eventually happens. It is almost a relief when we find that drunkenness is the worst that Ellen—a very sweet character—has to encounter. The women throughout are superior to the men. The early scenes, which exhibit the most of American life, are laid in Virginia and the Carolinas. They differ but little from provincial life at home, except in less of social restraint and rather more equality of association, without regard to money circum- stances. In spite of all we hear of the openings for enterprise in America, and the certainty of attaining competence, Life's Lesson and other fictions seem to show that there are very many ex- ceptions to this, and that reverse of fortune with genteel distress exists in America as well as in Europe. The social picture in the novel before us consists of little else. Judge Mason, the father of

Ellen the heroine, has been a successful practitioner and respected judge. Through suretyship, he is reduced in the evening of his days to an annuity from an uncle in England, and he dies leaving his family penniless. The failure of Jane Lorton's father compels her to turn her accomplishment of singer to account ; and nearly the same discussion goes on about its propriety as would take place in England, and some doubts as to how far she should be received. George Watson wants sustained energy, indeed common industry ; so that his non-success is merely the result of his character but the necessity of activity and struggle, and the difficulties which all above the working class and without patrimonial property are ex- posed to, seem pretty much the same in America as in England. The composition of the book is somewhat strained, but it is well written. The author has dramatic power, though a little melo- dramatic. Part of the scene which terminates the engagement between Mr. Steele and Mary Gordon, a genius and a future authoress, may be taken as a sample.

"Mary Gordon and Mr. Steele had spent the evening with Ellen Mason, and had had a silent walk home. Now he stood, with his arms resting on the corner of the low mantel, watching ler as she put some flowers in water. The flowers were arranged, and she turned and met his gaze. It neither faltered nor changed its character. There was inquiry in it. She encountered it steadily for a moment, then said, with a strange expression, Well ? ' "'You do not love me, Mary ? '

"She drew her breath once quickly, then said, in a low, constrained tone, 'It is true , _. rtb) not!'

"He neither altered his position nor removed his gaze. "'Did you ever love me ?' "'No!'

"She bore that look a moment longer, then crossed the room, seated her- self upon the sofa, and plucked at the flowers. Her hand trembled. There was unbroken silence for five minutes, when he passed over and seated him- self beside her.

" She was very agitated.

" have not loved you, Mary.' " know that also.'

"Again they were silent.

" 4 Mr. Steele,' she presently said, turning to him and speaking vehemently, you must listen to me—must hear all I have to say. I care not what you think, you must hear me. When I first met you, I saw you admired, and after a time, thought you loved me. I loved no one else, and believed I might learn to love you ; so made up my mind to marry you should you ad- dress me. Hear it all!' She stood up before him. 'Your position and your wealth tempted me. But mark me—I did admire, and thought I might love.' She put her hands before her face.

He started up and stood beside her, his eyes flashing and his face glowing with indignation. He was about to speak, but she confronted and prevented him.

"'You came to see me often ; people talked of us—our names were coupled together—friends teased me. You came here one evening—your manner was cold and distant. I thought you divined my feelings. After this, I was cold and reserved to you. You sought me again and again—we became en- gaged. Latterly the thraldom of this engagement has been intolerable to both : I have felt you did not love me. Now, now, you know the whole ; but'—she raised her finger and shook it slowly at him—' you cannot judge me, Charles Steele, for you have not always been true to yourself. if you have never been tempted—never swerved from the right, then throw the first stone.'

"He did not speak, but the expression of his face wasealmer, his manner more composed. "'I have seen this coming—felt it, and am glad it is over. I have done this night what few women would do—have performed a penance greater than ever priest inflicted upon erring devotee. I have told you I did not tare for your good opinion. I do care for it, and I will have it; for I deserve it now more than I have ever deserved it since I have known you, for I am truer to myself. * * * Now I call upon the better part of your nature: I bid you look to yourself and say if Ihave been alone in the wrong. If you have never been lured by your own passions, if you have always com- bated and conquered vanity and pride, then, indeed, have you a right to judge me.' "She paused from exhaustion, and sat down, leaning her bead upon the table.

" Mary !' he presently said in a low tone, ' Mary, we have both made a great mistake : when you first spoke I felt bitter and indignant—bitter at the thought of having been duped, indignant that you should have weighed my money and position. I repeat, we have made a great mistake. I thought you loved me ; your manner the evening we went to the lecture, and sub- sequently, confirmed me in this impression.'

'He paused : he saw that this statement galled, and the wounded vanity of the man must have vent.

"4 I admired, and at times almost loved you. It was these feelings, toge- Cher with the conviction that you were net indifferent to me, which lad ma to speak, and resulted in our engagentart: " 'And pray'—she raised her head proudly and looked at him, for at thht moment she would rather he had assigned any motive, however base, for her conduct, than preference—' what was there in my manner to lead you to this conclusion ?'

" Its unevenness only; at one time you were cordial, at another cold. I have never admired you more than on the night you refer to. It was the effort to restrain this admiration which made me appear distant.' " And you, with a cold heart and cooler head, could watch my mamwe, calculate upon it, and come to me with professions which were from the lips only. I thank you for it, Charles Steele ; you have taught me a lesson shall remember my life-long. I thank you!'

" He was stung by the mocking sarcasm of her manner.

"'And have I nothing to thank you for, lady ? Methinks, in your heat, you forget the.clelusions which may beset a man who believes himself beloved by a 2113 man yourself he rutianye euv;,nhiwhole ehlr Tquivering,aan 'I never loved you—never—and you felt it !'

" ' Yet I was your promised husband.'

" 'It would never have come to that—never ! I know it never would.'

"' I,' he said—and he arose and stood facing her—' have also to thank you for a lesson : hereafter, when I meet with love, and faith, and dim:site.. rested affection, I will embody it, and call it—Mary.' "

Mrs. Charles Clacy, the authoress of Lights and Shadows of Australian Life, accompanied her brother to the Gold-Diggings of Australia, and " settled ' there. She also published a book, which gave a lively and pleasant picture of those regions from the femi- nine point of view, interspersed with several sketches or tales, in which the form was that of fiction, though the substance might be fact. The present book is an extension of the fictitious portion of her first; it is a series of tales with whose elements we have long since been familiar in home novels, although the manners and most of the incidents are those of Australian life.

This novelty gives an interest to the book which it would not of itself have attained: for Mrs. Clacy, however well fitted to narrate her own adventures and describe the actual, has not sufficient strength and imagination for fiction. She has not looked at the life before her to penetrate below its externals and exhibit the es- sential character of its events in the form of romance, but drawn her romance from English materials and dressed them in Australian garb. Several of the tales are too slight ; well adapted for an Annual or a Lady's Magazine, but not of weight enough for a book. In some sense they may occasionally be too Colonial. We do not mean in the exhibition of bushranging atrocities, or of con- viots becoming faithful followers and reformed men, but of ele- vating a quondam assigned servant and bushranger to the role of lover and hero.

The best story in the book as "Mikka "•, which takes its title from the name of a little black girl left behind by the natives in retreating from an assault upon a settler, and brought up by the family. The story is of sufficient length to allow of the development of events ; and is adapted to exhibit the most stirring occurrences in the life of a remote settler. An at- tack by natives, with difficulty repulsed—the economy of a stook- keeper's life and household, with some of its striking business— the loss of Mikka when grown up—the abduction of the settler's daughter by the natives from revenge, and the pursuit and recap- ture of Sophy by the aid of Mikka—form a novel assemblage of events. A rivalship in love, and a denouement which settles it heroically, infuse enough of romance into the Australian life with. out the aid of English stock materials. Some good remarks, the result, it would seem, of actual expe- rience, are occasionally made : and this is one, from a " young lady's diary." We fear there is but small enjoyment of life in busy England.

"In spite of all these strange things, I like my present life amazingly. Mrs. Dormer is a very kind old lady, and more cheerful than I expected to have found her, considering it is only a year since her husband's death. How frequently it happens in this world that what occasions the deepest sorrow to one is the source of great happiness to others: had she not been left a widow in a strange land, she would, perhaps, never have remembered the orphan child of her old friend and schoolfellow, who was leading a miserable existence as the under-paid, over-worked English teacher, at the Misses R.'s fashionable seminary for young ladies.

"Brought up by a harsh stepfather, without brothers or sisters to love— then half-teacher, half-pupil at the Misses IL's, where I was only taught how to instruct the junior classea—and alien promoted to be under teacher,

with my very in chained down to the monotonous routine of school- life—I never n those days knew what it was to enjoy existence. "Now, seated outside our wooden cottage, the soft Australian air blowing gently upon me, with a friend who loved my mother and already feels affec- tion for myself—with no conventional rules dinned momentarily into my ears to shackle my free enjoyment of all around—from the depths of my heart I thank God for the most blessed of all his gifts, life."

_Moline. In " Naomi" and her other novels, Mrs. Webb has exhibited religions feeling, as well as much information about the gergraphy and history of her themes, somewhat marred in their application to fiction by a hard manner of invention and a lifeless style. In this story of Egyptian bondage, her better character- istics are retained, and her style is improved. Her pictures of Egyptian scenery, ceremonies, and manners, in the days of Egypt's ancient glory, have warmth and richness, if they are not living. The invention is rather per recipe, though deriving some novelty from its application to Egyptians and Hebrews of the time of Moses. There is Jambres, an Egyptian high priest of Thebes, called to Heliopolis on the accession of Pharoab, to act as his chief adviser ; and this naturally introduces descriptions of the two capitals, the court, the ceremonies at the burial of one king and the accession of another, with many similar things. Jambees has a daughter, Idaline, and a nephew, Amenophis. Idaline is in- tended for Sophie, anEgyptiannolde : this engsgementgives rise to

the exhibition of social enstoins, and,to p displaynf magnanimity on the part of the lover when he finds he is not 'beloved ; more in ac- cordance, we fancy, with Mrs. Webb's ideas than with the practice of ancient Egypt. Amenophis has secretly married a Hebrew maiden, like himself, not very particular in religious matters. The young Egyptian has made a confidant of his cousin ; and Idaline, visiting Zillah his wife, meets Jared her brother. The daughter of the high priest, having a turn for theology, and having pierced the emptiness of the Egyptian religion, becomes a convert to Judaism, falling in love with Jared at the same time. When to all these things are added Jannes, a villanous Egyptian priest, bent upon supplanting Jambres in place and favour—the pursuit of Zillah when her marriage with Amenophis is discovered —the abduction of Idaline through the means of Jannes—there is enough of novel business, even before Moses and Aaron appear upon the scene. The fundamental want—a want of dramatic power—cannot be supplied ; and the difficulty of reviving ancient modes adds to the fundamental defect. Idaline, a Tale of Egyptian Bondage, is more adapted for a certain class of serious readers, than for persons who look to fiction for a rapid and lifelike story or a work of art.