EMILIE CARLEE P S WOMAN'S LIFE. * IT is not sufficiently borne in
mind by translators of fictions, that a few works suffice as a specimen of singular manners or of an individual style. What is an attraction as long as the novelty lasts afterwards becomes a drawback. The manners pass from freshness into strangeness; the minute delineation in which Ger- man and Scandinavian artists seem to delight becomes tedious to English readers; the foreign sentiment and bonhomie very often to us take the shape of affectation ; and more than all, perhaps, our moral notions are so different from those of foreigners, that what interests one set of readers may offend the other. Emilie Carlen's Rose of Tisleton had the novelty of manners which formed the attraction of Frederika Bremer's earlier works, displayed in a humbler sphere of life. There was also more of in- cident, passion, and crime, than Miss Bremer introduced into her stories : yet such is the advantage of being first in the field, that Emilie Carlen's chef-d'cenvre did not attain the same popularity as the more every-day fictions of Miss Bremer. The Birthright was a more commonplace subject, with less vigour of treatment ; what was natural was common, what was peculiar had strangeness rather than strength. The present book displays more force in the composition than The Birthright, but it has not so broad an object in view as the evils of primogeniture ; while one of its leading sources of interest is distasteful to the English reader, who expects mental purity in a heroine—" he comes too near who comes to be denied."
The purpose of the fiction would seem to be the evil consequences of coquetry, caprice, and spoiling children. Edith Sternfelt is a young lady of great beauty, ardent feelings, and rather striking abilities; but, owing to bad management on the part of her mother, she has run to seed. Having great expectations, she has been much courted, but, suspecting the motives of her suitors, she discards them after she has amused herself at their expense. A certain Ernst Helmer is the hero, with more respectability of cha- racter than generally belongs to foreign heroes of fiction. Helmer has been born to affluence, but the family estates were encumbered, and he is supposed to have speculated or gambled away what re- mained, though in reality applying it in the discharge of filial duty. He has accepted the post of overseer or manager to the widowed Mrs. Sternfelt ; an office which combines the bailiff and agent of this country. Edith at first looks down upon him. When she feels that the handsome manager, with his touch of reserve and his varied accomplishments, is making a serious impression on her heart, she exaggerates her disdain. On the other hand, Helmer is fearful of her instability of character. But the struggles of both are vain. In spite of a prior engagement, of her mother's opposi- tion and refusal of Edith's portion, as well as of Helmer's doubts as to Edith's stability, the marriage takes place, and the pair begin • WOMan'll Life; or the Trials of Caprice. By Emilie Carlen, Author of " The *meet Tisleton." In three volumes. Published by Bentley.
a struggle with the world and with themselves. This struggle finally ends in happiness, but only after various troubles ; one of which is owing to a certain Mr. Mcirnberg, a melodramatic sort of gallant, who would have succeeded in persuading Edith to elope, had not her husband overheard what took place, and come in at the nick of time to knock down Mr. MOrnberg and his object.
This intrigue, with one or two other traces of similar laxity, is the moral defect of the book. The critical faults, to English readers, are the minuteness of painting characters and everyday incidents, for the mere painting's sake, and our want of sympathy with much of the narrative owing to the oddness of the manners. The engagement which Edith's passion for Helmer is the cause of breaking off has been brought about by Mrs. Sternfelt. The lover is a count, of great merit and ability, but his mind has been unhinged owing to ill-training, the practice of reading books on diablerie, and the death of his first betrothed. Edith has ac- cepted him from mixed motives ; a sense of duty induces her to hurry on the marriage ; but as the time approaches for its reli- gious announcement her resolution gives way. The Count is with his confidential attendant dressed for the occasion, when Edith ap- peals to him.
"'nearest thou, friend, thou wilt learn to love the Countess as I do my- self. Thou shalt understand that she, my wife, will be the best portion of my soul; that her behests we must both obey; and oh, how beautiful it is to think of this! But the hand moves slowly—can she be ready 'et? Hush! what is that—what steps are those I hear? 0 God! 0 God ! tie she—'tis she—yes, it is truly she herself—it is my wife who comes thus to surprise me And he flew to the door, tore it open, and extended his arms to embrace his earthly heaven—his bride : but at his feet fell prostrate a woman, pale as a corpse, whose disheveUed hair, burning eyes, and wild gestures, but little resembled those of a bashful bride. The hand of death seemed to gripe hard at Hermann's heart; his countenance, a moment before illuminated with joy and happiness, was fearfully changed, and terror was depicted in every feature. He could not utter a word. "'Pity!' stammered Edith; 'Pity! I cannot—give me yet time—till May. We must send to the church and put this off.'
"At these words, the stunning shock which had palsied the Count's nerves seemed at once to pass away, and was succeeded by a burst of boundless fury.
" `No !' he exclaimed, while he clasped the struggling girl in his arms ; 'no! Now thou art mine, and by Heaven, by the deep abyss, mine thou shalt be. Woman! dost thou believe that man can thus play with oaths, with truth? Ha! what a black traitress have we here ! But now shalt thou feel that thy power has fled; for now, I swear, I am weary of it, and it is no more a time to dare to play with me!'
" Oh! for God's dear mercy, release me—loose me! you stifle me—your flaming breath scorches me!'
"'And thou dog not shudder—thou! to call on God, God whom thou haat by thy broken vows blasphemed? Thou dost venture to think of mercy, and from the man whom for thy mere pastime thou hast plunged into an abyss, deeper, more bottomless, than before. What had he done to thee, this man, that thou shouldst thus annihilate his faith in everything like purity or virtue ? Was he not i thine eyes sufficiently worthy of pity, through the sad fate alone which God had laid upon him, but thou must also tread his honour in the dust, and make him an object not of pity alone but also of contempt and scorn ? No; no mercy ! today—this day shall our marriage be announced; or, have a care, the issue will fall heavy, heavy upon thyself!'
"'I cannot, I cannot !' sobbed Edith, struggling vainly to release herself. "At this moment the door was opened by her mother. She had been un- conscious of all—had not the least foreboding of it ; when suddenly Nilman, with a face almost turned to stone with terror, had come and called her to the Count and her daughter.
"When this usually strong and powerful-minded woman now beheld her daughter struggling, half-suffocated in the wild embrace of her maddened lover—when she saw the fire which flashed from his eyes, and caught the last words which passed his lips—she felt her knees tremble and give way, and it was only by the most extreme effort that she succeeded in maintain- ing her dignity, and finding words to vent her astonishment. And at once, at the very first sound of her clear commanding tones, the Count's arms fell down do as if suddenly unnerved. He advanced three steps to meet her, as if he would have made his charge against Edith before her; but ere he could open his mouth, his features changed, his lips turned blue, and he fell in strong convulsions on the floor. " Quick !' cried Madame Sternfelt, puffing till the hell-rope broke to alarm the servants; 'rim quick, some one, and call Mr. Helmer. He came back last night.' "In a few minutes Helmer was there: and how did he see Edith again? However, this was no time to think of that. There was a terrible confusion, a crying, a running here and there, a chaos which required coolness and self- possession. "Edith was carried senseless to her chamber. The Count received all ne- cessary care and tending, and messengers were sent off like lightning for physicians.
"All thoughts of the intended event of the day were-banished. "Thus ended this episode, for which Madame Sternfelt had in her cold worldly pride laboured so eagerly. Thus ended Edith's betrothal."
Previous page
