OMNIA VANITAS.* THE first ten pages of this book are
distinctly "novel," and if the rest of it were up to sample, we should recognise a new power in the novel-world. Unfortunately, the sequel is a sad falling-off from the beginning. Yet even so, the anonymous authoress, if we "may guess her sex by the fashion of her tones," has produced a work which is a long way superior to the ordinary run. It begins in true epic style, "And And you love
me?' she said ;" and after a short description of the parties to this interesting dialogue, and protestations on the part of the male interlocutor, it proceeds thus :— " You must not forget,' she uttered, with a somewhat janne-like expression of face, that I am still Lady Lester, and that our flight is not yet an accomplished fact. Well, I know yon are brave. His lordship will probably wish to fight you—yon will not mind meeting him I have one stipulation to make. It is, I believe, customary for the—the toyer not to fire. I should particularly object to your doing that. Before I consent to fly with you you must give me your word of honour not only to fire at my husband, but to do your best to kill him.'—A dull horror crept through the young man's veins. She made this proposition as calmly as though she were giving him an injunction not to be late at the play. Is it pos- sible that she may be one of those fearfully wicked and cold-blooded women of whom he has read in novels, beautiful and soft to look at, but— ? As he has not responded to her observation in the space of some twenty seconds, Lady Lester turned her eyes inquiringly upon him—' Well ?' she said, with a questioning air.—'You cannot be serious,' he answered in an agonised voice.— Not serious,' she uttered, accentuating the surprise in her voice, why not ?'—' Be- cause,' he cried hotly, finch a thing is unheard of. It is against all the rules of honour, of—' He paused abruptly. Her ladyship had sunk on a conch, buried her face in the cushions, and was obviously convulsed—with laughter."
So far so good. If one good notion could make a novel, then this novel is made. But alas ! almost immediately is introduced the personage who, together with the use of such
phrases as "she uttered" for "she said," and so on, leads us to suppose that the writer is a woman. This personage, who is called Sir Ralph Gray, Bart.,—for being "a society novel," we move almost exclusively among lords and baronets,—is a sort of mixture of Daniel Deronda and Sir Charles Grandison, and it is his mission to serve as a contrast to Lord Lester, this' sprightly dame's husband, who is described as something between Mr. Grandeourt and Tony Lumpkin. But his chief mission is to read lectures to her ladyship. No man could ever have made such a character the hero of his book ; but women, or at least some women, for some inscrutable reason, seem to like being preached at, and to consider the moral lecturer as the highest type of male humanity. Sir Ralph Gray, it must be admitted, is a lecturer a outrance. He reads Lady Lester at least half-a-dozen lectures in the first chapter, and continues to lecture her to the end of her life and the book, which come together. She confides to him the story of her life at great length in one chapter, and he returns the confidence at still greater length in another. He becomes her father-confessor, and tries to convert her to lead a more serious life ; and, among other specifics, recommends. visiting poor people. But as Lady Lester follows out this recommendation by paying a visit to the slums of Westminster in a carriage with powdered footmen, to the great delight of the inhabitants, and especially of the street Arabs, it is not wonderful that she does not altogether approve of this specific. Sir Ralph Gray himself, when her ladyship complains that "she has thought of going about among the poor, but loathes contact with dirt and misery," tells her that he does "not at all approve of great ladies visiting the London poor in their homes. It is not their place," though apparently he has no objection and rather lends his encouragement to visiting the "country poor" in their homes, presumably because then they can play the Lady Bountiful in comfort. One of his peculiarities is that,
though he is not a "believer" himself, yet he is very anxious that his fair penitent should be one, and does not think that " — and — and —," the formula under which, out of considera- tion for her readers, the authoress conceals "the names of
* Omnia Vanitas; a Tale of Society. 3 vols. London: _Hurst sad Blankett. several sceptical works," are at all good reading for her ; indeed, he tells her that she is not old enough to read such books. Finally,- he comes to the conclusion that a creed which consists of "only one hope, one wish for himself in the future—annihilation- oblivion," is good enough for a man, but "the tender, clinging soul of a woman must needs have a support, a rock," and "re- ligion alone could be the mainstay of a woman." Yet, notwith- standing the priggishness of the hero—or, at least, of the most prominent figure—on the whole, the book is decidedly above the average. The character of Lady Lester, the heroine, is not a strong one, but it is charming and natural, and well-worked out. The way in which, in spite of her odious husband and her tempting surroundings, she tries to live the noble life, and nearly falls a victim, owing to the very purity of her feelings, to the fascination of Lord Charlton, a notorious profligate, is really tragic. Of plot there is very little, but what little there is falls strictly within the lines of probability, which is not always the case even with plotless novels. The scenes of "Society," too, are natural, if they are not very strong. It was news, however, by-the-way, to learn that in " Society " it is customary to address women as "my dear lady" and "my poor lady" at frequent intervals. As the phrase is chiefly placed in Sir Ralph Gray's mouth, however, it might have been thought that it is a peculiarity of baronets, or of baronets who are also prigs, had not the phrase "beautiful lady" been also used to Lady Lester by a foppish Colonel in the Guards. There is a touch, too, once or twice of the Ouidaesque. It does not argue an intimate acquaintance with " Society " to say "she said to him as he was finishing his souffle." After all, any one who has dined at a restaurant, or ever looked at a cookery-book, can talk about sonill6s, and so forth, as well as a Duchess. However, it is fair to say that these Onidaesque touches are rare, and that as a rule the authoress's members of society walk and talk and eat like ordinary beings. In fine, of the book as a whole we may say that, while it is reasonable and modest in forte, its mode of treatment and aim are distinctly superior to that of most anonymous novelists. The performance is not of the highest order, but it is still of a higher order than we are often accustomed to, and gives promise of greater results in a future effort
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