THE FORTUNES OF THE FALCONARS.
THIS fiction will not be very entertaining to those who look for variety of action, rapidity of narrative, and breadth of treatment in a novel ; for its deficiency in these qualities renders it often slow and tedious. But, to a critical reader, who can make his own observations a substitute for the attraction to be found in a well- compacted work, The Fortunes of the Falconars will not be without interest. Mrs. GoaDox is rather addicted to impressive writing ; and her facility in this line induces her to occupy too much of her book with reflections or extended descriptions, so that the story stands still to exhibit its writer : but the composition, although peculiar, is good in itself, and superior to that of many novels of the second class. The lady has also several higher qualities of a novelist. She looks with observing eyes upon the life around her, and depicts it with considerable skill ; she is keen in her discrimination of common characters, and can well exhibit them, and her dialogue often reads like a transcript from life. These im- portant qualifications are injured by a want of art to construct her story, or probably by too limited a knowledge of the events of life to supply her with sufficient materials to exercise art upon. She is also deficient in that intuitive judgment which sees instinctively what is to be rejected and what is to be retained. As regards truth of imitation, there is probably little difference between any of her common colloquies ; yet, whilst some are amusing from their vitality of character and connexion with the story, others are tedious, and even repulsive, from their minuteness and triviality. They are too like FIUME'S beacon of nature to be avoided, " the tittle-tattle of a tea-table " : her bores are too like the bores of real life—they bore the real reader as well as the fictitious person.
Another quality of the authoress, which gives some freshness to The Fortunes of the Falconars, is her pervading nationality : every thing in the society delineated is thoroughly Scottish. This feature, however, has its shade. There are such ramifications of family relationships, such a number of persons with similar names, and so many connexions of the leading parties introduced, who do nothing- and sometimes say nothing, that the English reader will often be lost in a genealogical maze. Whatever may Ile the defect of Southern writers, their readers can generally tell " who's who" in the dramatis personm, without much trouble. In The Fortunes of the Falconars, he is constantly puzzled as to the identity of subordinate people, whose names are thrown off as glibly in the dialogues, letters, or narrative, as if they were all so many real people, of whom he was supposed to have had a personal knowledge all his life; and we think they sometimes figure under their terri- torial as well as their personal denominations. It is a singular ex- ample of socio-national technicality.
The Scottish character of the writer is also exhibited in the more important points of her relation—we say relation, for the book has little incident, and no action at all. The Fortunes of the Faleonars opens with the distress arising from the loss of the family-estate of Cargarth, through the thoughtlessness and extravagant hospitality of the father and grandfatbsr ; and subsequently deals with the death of the eldest young Falconer, and the marriage of his two sisters. Beyond a little spice of the hero of romance in the cha- racter of Guy Clifton, the English lover of Eleanor Falconer, and a rather romantic story by which he comes into the possession of the property that enables him to marry, there is nothing in the book beyond the common character of affairs, except the national feature alluded to. Cargarth is mortgaged to its full value ; and the trus- tees, like prudent men, wish to sell, and preserve something from the wreck, while there are means of doing it. But Alfred Falconer struggles against this, out of a family regard for the property, inap- preciable by English folk. We Southrons can recognize trouble from the tangible loss of an estate ; we can sympathize with the feeling attached to a family-property, and all its domestic endear- ments, neighbourly ties, and early associations: but why a sensible young law-student should strive to aggravate difficulties by delay- ing to meet them, upon some dream of something turning up, and be plunged into tragic trouble when the trustees oppose him, we cannot divine. The cause of the distress of the family, too, seems insufficient. The gentlefolks do not appear to have lost caste, for the genealogical spirit prevents that ; they never moved in the high society which it delighted the " fashionable" novelists to depict ; and six or eight hundred a year seems too much for absolute money-distress. The death of Alfred Falconer is as objectionable. There is nothing in the nature of things to have prevented his suc- ceeding at the bar, giving away his favourite sister Eleanor to his friend Clifton, and marrying one of the numerous ladies himself. He is "killed off," to establish the national notion of second- sight, and a theory of Mrs. GORDON'S touching our "mental inter- course with the immaterial world around us." Taking a nap on the last day of his last visit to Cargartb, he receives, from a su- pernatural personage, a lawyer-looking summons to the other world by a given day ; and on the day and hour of his death in Edin- burgh appears to his friend Clifton in London. All this seems to have been planned to give variety and interest by introducing the supernatural, in perhaps the only way it can be introduced into modern fiction ; but Mrs. GORDON wants both genius and judgment to manage it.
The defects of The Fortunes of the Falconars, arising chiefly from a want of judgment and of artistic skill, have marred the effect of a work which in some of its persons and passages might almost have aspired to rival Miss AUSTEN, for the minute truthfulness of its delineations of every-day life. We take a few instances ; though they tell better when not separated from the context.
AN OLD MAIDEN LADY.
The old lady herself was seated bolt upright in her chair; for she belonged to that nearly extinct race of old ladies whose backs were never known to reat for support against the softest cushions of the softest seat. Of a taller, state- lier, and more commanding presence than her niece Elizabeth, Aunt Annie's whole appearance betokened a healthy and vigorous old age—an appearance not belied by the fact. It is indeed indubitable, from whatever cause it May arise, that one of the characteristics of the age we live in is the superior health and vigour, mental and bodily, of our grandmothers and great-aunts, to ours their degenerate descendants. Such was peculiarly the case with Miss Annie Fal- coml.; and, strong in the consciousness of her own physical forces, no one held delicacy of constitution or habit in more sovereign contempt than she. Of her mental peculiarities enough has already been said to intimate, that her ruling passions were pride and the love of distinction ; which pas- sions, when existing in a heart little disposed by nature to the softer and more affectionate feelings, as surely lead to the contemning the unfortunate or lowly, as they do to the reverencing and worshiping those who are the reverse. Aunt Annie's feelings of family pride, however, being stronger than those of Aunt Elizabeth, in whose eyes wealth, fashion, and worldly splendour, were every thing, this point of difference caused some variety in their modes of thinking, usually very much alike. Thus, whereas Aunt Elizabeth firmly believed in the inf-dlibility of her rich brother-in-law, Mr. Livingstone of Ferneylee, Aunt Annie's veneration for and glory in his wealth and consequence, were sometimes clouded by the recollection of his de- ficiency in ancient birth ; and, heartily as her niece and she concurred in the triumphant sensations caused by the beauty and accomplishments of the Misses Livingstone, she yet regarded with a far deeper feeling of, admiration the noble young lady who had lately become their elder brother s wife. It need scarcely be added, that Aunt Annie, in common with most old ladies of
'her class, considered the climax of her sex's virtue to consist in a perfect familiarity with the mysteries of needlework. In fact, it might be doubted whether she conceived the daughters of a good family to have been created for any other putpose than to sew, whilst unmarried, and when they changed their maiden condition, to increase the consequence and extend the connex- ions of their house. Such was the much-dreaded relative who now received her great-nieces with more of benignity than they had expected.
A NOTABLE OLD LADY'S DISCIPLINE.
Eleanor stole a glance at Clara ; and in the mantling colour which deepened over her cheeks thought she could perceive indubitable symptoms of the private passion lately deprecated. But Clara wisely held her peace; and her sister merely replied, in a gentle voice—" Indeed, Aunt Annie, I am not aware of having ever had any advice from Mrs. Peter ; so I do not see how she can tell whether it would be thanklessly received or not." "Maybe not, Eleanor. It is very possible that people may refrain from offering advice where they see it would not be well taken. Clara, my dear, I -am very sorry to see a hole in your glove." " Ob, dear!" exclaimed Clara, in dismay, "so there is, I declare! It must have burst since I came out. May I look for a black silk thread in Aunt Elizabeth's work-box, Aunt Annie, and mend it ?"
"You may do so," replied Aunt Annie, solemnly ; "but it would have been more to your credit to have mended it before you left the house, Clara." "Indeed, Aunt Annie, I assure you there was no hole when I put en my gloves."
"I wish you may ever have looked, Clara," responded Aunt Annie, with a countenance of portentous meaning. "I'm afraid, my dear, you'll repent some day of your aversion to useful employment. I assure you, there couldn't be a greater loss to a young woman than not being clever at her seam. Indeed, I may say the same thing to both of you. It's a great distress to me to hear the remarks people make on your want of neat-handedness. If you were to learn to make and mend your own clothes, it would do you more good than music and Italian."
A CLERGYMAN'S DAUGHTERS.
These ladies were all gentle, subdued-looking beings, who wore an air of patient struggling with the narrow circumstances to which the families of our Scottish clergy are too often reduced ; and yet an air which told of better days, and of a degree of mental refinement which aggravates the sting of poverty. Eleanor, who did not fail to remark this, could not help feeling that the some- what patronizing politeness with which they were treated was not exactly the style of entertainment which she would have liked to offer them had they been liar guests ; and her gentle and unaffected efforts throughout the evening to amuse and make them feel comfortable, caused it to pass in a manner infinitely more agreeable than any they had ever before spent there.
A FEMALE TOADEATER.
Aunt Annie's genealogical reminiscences were interrupted by the opening of the door ; at which there entered a very little, light, and perking figure of a young lady, seemingly about twenty-two, whose person and countenance, other- wise insignificant, were rendered worthy of remark by the air of perpetual and pleased excitation which overspread them. Her quick eyes were ever on the move, as if to search out occasions fur obliging or admiring; which functions her nimble bands and smiling acquiescent lips seemed but awaiting an oppor- tunity to fulfil. The dress of Miss Ireland, for such was she, was neat and nice, and, to use a most expressive Scottish word, prefinck beyond all descrip- tion. Not a pin was out of place—not a hair hung loose. The first emotion on perceiving it was admiration of its extreme order and arrangement ; the next, a most eager desire to pull some part of it to pieces, just to relieve the eye, fatigued by too much perfection.
Previous page
