' FOUR NOVELS.*
THE object of Steven Vigil is to set forth the unsatisfactoriness of life without belief in God and Christ, and to show that infidelity, being insufficient to content humanity's needs and cravings, is therefore necessarily a mistake. And so heartily do we sympathise with the author's motive, that we regret not being able to feel very sanguine as to her chances of success in attaining it ;--we suspect the feminine pronoun to be the correct one, notwithstanding the name on the title-page. To point to the above-mentioned unsatisfactoriness as an argument for faith, is likely to influence some sceptics in just the reverse way from what is intended, and increase their spirit of opposition, because they fear allowing themselves to accept a bribe, as it were, and being tempted to a base surrender of the reasoning faculty which ought to be their guide, in order to gratify a weak and self-indulgent sentiment. Besides this, the advocacy of all novels touching on controversial matter is unavoidably marred by the fact that, however honestly the writers may try to represent objections to their own way of thinking which actually do occur to real people, the reader feels all the time that as the arguments for and against come from the same pen, and the person by whom the obstacles are raised is the same by whom they are also to be knocked down, he cannot be at all sure that he has encountered the most formidable of the objections to revelation, but may have been confronted only with those to which hie author knew the answer. The work now under con- sideration shows the career from childhood up of a somewhat Donovan-like hero, whose conversion from Atheism to Christianity is at last effected by means of the object of his affections,—a sweet and devoted young lady whose many virtues do not save her from being a trifle insipid. His nature is * (1.) Steven Vigil. By Daniel Dormer. London : Chapman and Hall.—(2.) They Have Their Reward. By Blanche Atkinson. London: George Allen:— (3.) A Rainbow at Night. By M. P. Lo Clore. London: Hurst and Blaokett. —(4 ) My Face is My Fortune. By F. O. Philips and Percy Fendall. London : F. V. White. essentially intense, strong to love, hate, and endure; and it is a characteristic trait of his disposition that, when a child, he should have been ready to drown his beloved dog with his own hands, sooner than leave it to suffer some unknown worse fate when he was gone away to school. Steven's character— especially in boyhood—is well drawn and fairly attractive; and there is cleverness, too, in the sketch of the selfish, kindly, old Madame de Caramel who befriends him. But of the other personages none excite much interest,—partly, perhaps, because of the fitfulness with which most of them pop in for a few pages only, and then disappear to be seen no more. By-the-bye, it 'seems odd that Steven should not have been at all astonishe& when he saw "a herd of bulls" by the shore at Barmouth ; it is not generally their habit to go about in herds, we fancy.
That virtue is practically non-existent if it does not manage to express itself in some way, is a thought that occurs whenever- one meets with fictitious individuals whose literary progenitors. have made the mistake of investing them with heroic qualities,. and then neglecting to give them an environment suitable for the development of those qualities. And it is to be wished that all novelists were as careful to avoid this mistake as is the writer of They Have Their Reward, whose leading character, Joanna, is one of the most spirited and satisfactory heroines we have had the good fortune to meet with for some time. Whether poor or rich, working for daily bread or in possession of half-a- million of money, her circumstances are always such as to. bring out the courage, undaunted spirit, unselfishness, and generous, protecting love towards the little half-sister to whom she acts as a mother, which are her distinguishing attributes. And in the extent of one's sympathy with her, one's moral sense, even, seems to get a little confused ; for though, of course, one could not, as a rule, approve of a girl's dosing her step-father with laudanum to put him to sleep whilst she kidnaps his child, yet, when Joanna acts thus in order to. keep Alice out of the clutches of a disreputable music-hall manager, one watches the proceeding without a qualm as to its entire righteousness, and only feels unmitigated admiration for her pluck and resolution, and anxiety lest she should fail in her purpose. Neither she nor Lilian, the secondary and un- estimable heroine who contrasts with her in some ways, belong to the class of die-away damsels who sit and weep, with their bands in their laps, when things go wrong ; and the strength that displays itself in Joanna in unwearied care for Alice, is manifested in Lilian in fidelity to the pursuit of wealth, which she steadily regards as the be-all and end-all of life, and from which she will not be tempted astray oven by the tender passion. To find the hero at his first appearance professing the unpromising creed that selfishness is the secret of happi- ness and the only really honest motive of action, would be rather startling if one were not convinced that the sentiment is only skin-deep, and that he will prove better than his word in time of trial. Nor is this confidence misplaced ; for though he is once so nearly caught in Lilian's toils as to give rise to a little uneasiness, yet he wrenches himself free before it is too. late, and finally comes to Joanna's rescue and knocks down her enemy with an energy that does much to atone for past offences. He is likeable, and not badly drawn, but less striking and attractive than the heroine. The boldest and most decided of the male figures is the ; and perhaps that is why one does not particularly object to his being let off the retribution which his wickedness deserves, or grudge him the worldly success that at last crowns his perseverance, and makes up for the disappointment of his evil designs upon Joanna. The book is altogether one to reconnnend,—well thought-out, thoughtful, amusing, and quite justifying the author's claim in the preface, that it is wholesome and honest work. But it will hardly escape the criticism that it is im- probable, on the score of the extreme unlikelihood of a large fortune being treated as was the one whose vicissitudes it describes ; and most readers at the close will be disposed to echo the remark of one of the dramatis persona', who says :— "It has been a most disorderly proceeding all through, the way that half-million has been tossed about, and most painful to well-regulated minds like mine."
The principal object of attention in A Rainbow at Night is the process of developing a light-hearted, sweet-natured girl into a brave woman by the stress of life ; and in telling how this was done, Miss Le Clere gives us a story which is pleasant, even if a trifle sad, and contains many clever touches and much that is true to Nature. Betty is a very winning young
lady, who grows upon one more and more as one watches her during the pecuniary troubles which send her away from the beautiful country home where economy is unknown and well- trained servants, horses, carriages, and similar comforts are at command, and land her in "reduced circumstances" and small lodgings at West Lapton, where the saving of dripping is a consideration, and the whole establishment consists of two rough, ignorant maids. Here her companions are a brother and sister who can endure troubles, great and small, with grim stoicism, but can not make fun of them, and are conse- quently not as much comfort as they might have been to poor Betty, who is herself always ready to laugh at the comical side of little domestic misadventures, if only she can find any one to laugh with her. The incompatibility is increased by the other two being reserved, and desirous of keeping aloof from West Lapton society, whilst she is intensely sociable, and endowed with a facility for making friends which renders a playful fox-terrier, or the accident of being fellow-customers at the same dairy, quite a sufficient introduction between her and her neighbours. Whether the reader will sympa- thise most in this matter with her or with the graver, more reserved brother and sister, will depend probably upon individual disposition ; but, at any rate, there can be no question of her having the best of it as far as happiness goes,—for the power to laugh is a wonderful sweetener of life's bitterness. The least satisfactory part of the story is the episode relating to the will, which is rather clumsily contrived, not necessary or natural, and suggests a doubt whether it may not have been an afterthought, dragged in after the completion of the author's original plan. As we are not told that Sir Ralph suspected Rupert of causing Silas's death, it is not very clear what was the Baronet's reason for wanting Ambrose to decline Silas's property ; and to feel bound to refuse a much-needed bequest merely because the deceased had talked of altering his will without giving any indication of what the alteration was to be, appears to us overstrained conscientiousness. The supervision exercised over the novel-reading of girls is considerably less rigorous nowadays than it used to be formerly, but the most scrupulous mother of the old-fashioned school need not hesitate about admitting A _Rainbow at Night to her house.
In the song whence My Face is My Fortune derives its title, it does not appear that the pretty maid's face ever did any- thing for her, either matrimonially or otherwise; but this is by no means the case with the heroine of Messrs. Philips and Fendall's novel, whose beauty obtains her two successive husbands, and so advances her fortunes, that whereas when we first make her acquaintance she is &truing her livelihood by dancing and singing at a humble (though respectable) booth, when we take leave of her she is in the enjoyment of 18,000 per annum,—having been of stainless character through- out, be it added. The best part of the book is that describing her existence at the Concert Algerien booth, where the surrounding details are filled in with a naturalness that makes them appear to be copied from life, and goes far to neutralise the effect of improbability produced by the story's main incidents. And though it may seem incongruous to associate restfulness and homeliness with the vagabond existence of a strolling troupe, yet that idea is conveyed so thoroughly by the account of Madame Pouchard's little company, that one feels no surprise at Dora's attachment to it, and readiness to return to its privations even from the lap of luxury. In a jointly written book, it is difficult to say confidently which part comes from the pen of which writer ; but there is an innocently idyllic savour about the little romance between Dora and the young pianist which we do not recognise as characteristic of Mr. Philips, and are therefore inclined to attribute to his partner. The story is told simply, straight- forwardly, and smoothly, with no attempt at display of fine. writingor flourishes. And though there is really very little in it, it will not be a bad companion for an hour's railway journey.
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