26 NOVEMBER 1853, Page 16

WALTER EVELYN, OR THE LONG MINORITY.*

Tan second of Mr. Bentley's novels at three-and-sixpence a vs. lume resembles the first of the series in a certain originality. Margaret, however, dealt with deeper evils, or at least more wide- spread sufferings than the present work, and appealed in its matter to a more current cant. Walter Evelyn traces the evil of fashion. able extravagance, and the hollowness of fashionable life; but, except in a few reflections, it wants the earnestness which psic vaded Margaret. The style of Walter Evelyn is lively, smart, and sometimes pointed ; the tone rather gay than grave, perhaps inclin- ing to persiflage. Both, however, are fitted to the subject of fashionable life and characters in various aspects, from the Regency of the " finest gentleman in Europe" to the present day.

Lord Herbert, the father of Walter Evelyn, is a younger son of a poor Marquis. Trained in the opinions and society of which " the Prince " and Sheridan were leaders, Beau Brumitel and others distinguished members, Lord Herbert represents a class almost ex- tinct. Without thought, care, or principle—victimizing trades- people or whoever will trust him, and in turn victimized by Jew money-lenders--sometimes in prison, always in difficulties, and never paying a debt except a gambling debt, if he can possibly avoid it—Lord Herbert still continues to live in a certain style. Highaaimal spirits render him easy under all circumstances, while his good person, his good-nature, his pleasantry, and the winning manners of the gentleman of the old school, make him popular even with those who lose by him. The exact opposite is Lord Staunton, his elder brother; a grave, hard-working politician. By dint of conscientious labour, irreproachable private conduct, and notwith- standing his outward severity, through the popular respect that belongs to knowledge and consistency, Lord Staunton rises to be a member of the Cabinet of his party.

Although Lord Staunton has ceased for years to notice his bro- ther Herbert, he patronizes his nephew Walter : so, between them both, family connexions, and some foreign journies, there is no lack of society to depict, whether fashionable, political, respectable, or Continental. "The long minority" which forms the thread of such story as there is arises from the will of an uncle of Walter, who died in India after making a fortune, appointing Lord Winnington as guardian. This man has some features which many will seem to recognize as belonging to more than one back-stairs or intriguing politician : he is painted as black as it is possible to paint, a worthless fool, and with little regard to entire consistency between the conduct of the action and the re- flections of the writer. The natural talents of Lord Winnington are " fiddling " and fraud ; but his music is merely mechanical, as he bought his best songs from needy and careless musicians of genius. Every baseness is heaped upon him. At the University, he ruins the wife of a hospitable acquaintance, by means of a drug. He skulks from a duel; and when found at last, and forced to stand a second shot, fires at the injured husband. In after life, he is ready as witness to a plot to take the life of his natural daughter, and is restrained not by any natural feeling but apparently. by the threats of some creditor or creditor's attorney. He misappro- priates the fortune of his ward Walter, and of another ward, Sir Harcourt Berkeley. He is ready to sacrifice his daughter, Lady Anne, to either of these young men, to avert the consequences of- his swindling; and he squanders upon opera-dancers and similar persons or pursuits the monies he gets by cheating. Yet this man, stained with infamous deeds, and without any real ability, is successful in public life; he becomes a general, an ambassador, and is covered with orders of knighthood. The exaggeration of all this is in the matter; the style is natural enough. The wicked old fifteenth Earl of Winnington is in manner, discourse, and appearance, just one of those narrowminded selfish old men who are occasionally met with, in whom folly and knavery, seem to struggle for the mastery, and who would according to their own account have been moral monsters had not their evident want of ability neutralized their -want of conscience. The story of the book is a subordinate matter, and is fidl of inconsistencies. The incidents rather concern other people, than the hero ; perhaps there is a want of feeling in the writer which would prevent the reader's sympathy with the persons, • Walter Evelyn; or the Long Minority. Ill three volumes. Published by Bentley. even if that was aimed at. Life, in the fashionable or worldly sense of the term, is the writer's forte ; and the apparent object is to exhibit it either by description or reflection. hence, the occur- rences in themselves are generally slight, and derive their interest from serving as a vehicle for character, dialogue, description, or reflection. Some of the passing characters are readily recogniz- able,—as Lord Tantrums, who will not sit in the Cabinet with Sir Charles Grandison without certain securities ; and Sir Charles, who when turned out himself turns out the Ministry by moving to insert " boiled" instead of " roasted" on a question of supplying the army with potatoes. Generally speaking, however, the dra- matis persona; are only partially identified with individuals. Lord Winnington has been already spoken of. Lady Herbert, Walter's mother, when she takes to writing novels and receiving authors and artists, bears some resemblance to the late Lady Bles- sington, as well in the influence she acquires as the kind of novels she writes ; but there is no further resemblance. Many of the cha- racters are general, yet drawn with a good deal of truth, force, and individuality.

The most tragic incident of the book, or what might be tragic in other hands, is the fate of Lady Anne Stanley, Lord Winnington's daughter. The first object of that worthy was to marry her to Walter, to hush up his fraud ; but Walter's heart is otherwise en- gaged. The Earl finally marries her to his other ward. Lady Anne, however, is attached to an Indian officer, Captain Ireton, and on the day he is to break the matter to her father, rides out with their confidant, and Arthur Sinclair, a celebrated poet.

" I could see that Anne was very much excited, as it was natural that she should be; and I was glad the poet kept talking on, for we were both in a humour that made excellent listeners.

" We prolonged our ride, therefore, rather more than was necessary, for none of us cared to return ; the poet being fascinated with his subject and busy wandering in dream-land, while Anne was growing sick with anxiety, vet feared to clear up her doubts. For my part, I could have enjoyed that lovely summer day, and listened to the spell of the gifted poet's words till now, and I had a kind of foreknowledge that poor Annie was going home to cold news. At length, however, the wise little clock of a village-church, striking the hour in quite a remonstrative sort of way, warned us home ; and, putting our horses into a canter, we heard the clanging summons of the first dinner-bell as we passed the lodge-gates. Poor Annie! I think I see her now : the rosy colour of her cheeks had faded to an ashy paleness, her eye burnt with a feverish fire, and her lips were slightly parted to admit the breath, which came quicker and quicker. " A post-chaise stood before the door, ready packed, and with the boys mounted ; and a quick spasm passed over Anne's face as her keen eye had read long before mine the name painted in large white letters upon the trunks which were fastened behind : it was that of ' Captain B.. Ireton, —th Regiment' ; and the next moment she fell, fainting, from her horse.

" We were down and at her side in a moment ; and as Arthur Sinclair stood beside her, and I, sunk on one knee, supported her head, while the hue of death was upon her face, and her long hair fell in wild disarray about her shoulders, the post-chaise drove by us.

" It contained but one traveller, a young man in an undress military uni- form ; and be never held up his head as he passed : he sat with folded arms, like a man of iron, looking straight forward, but seeing, feeling nothing; and the face of the soldier was terribly stern.

" Ah !' said the poet, who, I fancied, had not even guessed at what had been passing during his stay at Cleveland ; ah ! I thought so; and I have been trying to keep up her spirits all the afternoon, though I saw it was of little use. Thus end the dreams of young hearts. Why, why is life so sad ?' " It was a joyless dinner that day at Cleveland, though the master of the feast presided for the first time for long months at his own table. Lady Winnington kept her room; and the arrival of a physician from the county town, and the hushed steps of the servants about the house, seemed to an- nounce that Lady Anne must be very ill indeed. Yet there sat that de- bauched man over his wine long after dinner, relating obscene stories, culled from the side-scenes of the Opera, and glorying in the sins of his youth : not one sigh for his wife, who sat wringing her hands over his brokenhearted daughter, passed his lips, bloated and livid with excess. A profound ex- pression of disgust shadowed the face of Arthur Sinclair as he announced his departure for the following day, and gave a cold ear to his host. And what I felt is so mixed up and mingled with the greater contempt and abhorrence I had for my guardian afterwards, that I do not trust myself to dwell upon it now?'

Although Ireton is not forgotten, Anne marries the goodnatured Sir Harcourt Berkeley, resolutely determined to do her duty. The tale of worldly ruin that quickly follows is well and rapidly told, and would be even tragic if anything connected with fashion could be. One of the scenes will give an idea of Lord Herbert and the writer's general, manner. Walter acts as private secretary to his uncle.

"One day as I was working as hard as a lawyer's copying-clerk for my uncle, Lady Anne Berkeley was announced, and presently came in, very pale, but collected and tearless, and told me all, without one faulter in her voice or one break in the thread of her story—without so much as the quiver of an eyelash or the tremble of a lip.

"`And now, dear Walter,' she said, with a sisterly trust and confidence in'me I like to remember, ' can you advise us anything ? ' She said us,' for she identified herself with her husband completely ; and for herself apart from him she had no care. She did not wring her hands and cry frantically, What shall /do ? ' but calmly and heroically stood to her post, and thought for both."

" I had the satisfaction of knowing too she could hardly have come to a better person; for I took her to my father at once, and calling at his club we sent in for him, and found him as usual—he was playing at chicken- hazard with some lads more than young enough to be his sons. Lord Her- bert Evelyn was, however, just the sort of person for a difficulty of this kind, and entered into it at once with the utmost alacrity. Hot water was indeed his element ; this excellent nobleman having been in it all his life. 'Nothing could be easier,' he said, than to get Sir Harcourt out of prison ; though it was a pity Worthlesse was one of the detaining creditors.' Lord Herbert, however, knew somebody who was a match even for him, and, setting this worthy to work, all that would be necessary would be to get bail for Sir ,Biaenet's appearance. and—and,' said my father, in the most business- uk4En er in the world, and showing a set of teeth that any fellow at Wen ht envy, 'he-ean go through the court, and snap his fingers at "'But bail?' said Lady Aune, in her quiet sensible way, ' we have not a friend in the world "'Fie! my dear Lady Berkeley,' said my father, 'not a friend? You have slaves in all who know youmais, quand meme ! I could get you half a dozen fellows, and good men too, who would go bail for Sir Harcourt in an afternoon.'

" God bless you, Lord Herbert 1' said the poor woman simply.; and then for the first time, when she had done all she could so well and quietly, I saw that she was crying, and her hand closed on my arm like a vice. "'Pooh! to be sure I can,' repeated my father, smiling in his frank easy way, as if there was not a real sorrow or difficulty in the world but what could be got over while smoking a cigar : to be sure I can—and Sir Har- court may have his four-in-hand again in a month, and you shall be the belle of the season. Don't lose heart about it,' said the goodnatured roue.

"'I only want him back with me again,' said Lady Anne, with a faint smile of gratitude to her consoler; and we will try to do without the four- in-hand.'

" Oh, no, we will never hear of that,' said my father; ' a gentleman must always go through the world on wheels.'

" He was as good as his word ; as, indeed, he would have been to any poor fellow in a scrape, except a creditor ; and three days after this conversation, Sir Harcourt Berkeley and his wife were living quietly at the British Hotel in Jermyn Street ; and as nobody knew of their whereabouts but my father, (who lent them his brougham, with one of the most knowing lads in London to drive it,) they were not likely to be annoyed for some time again.

Only, for God's sake, don't walk about!' said my father ; ' or you will have some police-court bother again; for Worthlesse is biting his nails at your having given him the slip, I can tell you,—and he is up to any- thing.' "

The writer is evidently as well acquainted with foreign as with English society; and paints it not very brightly, except in the ease of Simonet de Beaumont, who was probably suggested by Bellot.