Walter's Word. By James Payn. (Tinsley Brothers.)—This is such a
long story, that when we get to the very romantic and satisfactory denouement at Palermo, we can scarcely believe we began—apparently some years ago—at an equally romantic, but very unsatisfactory com- mencement, at Penaddon, in Cornwall. But to those who don't mind a book being very "long-drawn out," and don't object to such a total change of scene and incidents in the second part of the story as obliterate those of the first, Mr. Payn's tale will be entertaining enough. We strongly recommend the second half of the tale to boys, with the sugges- tion that they should begin exactly in the middle—namely, at the ninth chapter of the second volume—for the author has been strictly impar- tial to these two-tales-in-one, as to quantity. This latter half rivals the narratives of Mayne Reid, Ballantine, Kingston, &c., in the exciting nature of its adventures, and is not much more than on a par with the best of them in the resemblance of its characters to real people. Walter's quiet, straightforward simplicity is, indeed, not badly sketched, only that this sensible fellow is often so very innocent and gullible,—that his high-principled forbearance is chequered with such preposterous savagery, and that his courage becomes cool effrontery just when the circumstances are so terrible, that presence of mind and silence are the most we could expect from even an extraordinary mortal. The two girls, again, are really excellent, Mr. Payn being indeed generally successful when he writes about women. The timidity of Lotty and the spirit of Lilian and their affection for each other are admirably drawn. The rest of the dramatis personce are exaggerations of the kind which proceeds from no power of caricature, but from the desire,. without the skill, to sketch bold and effective characteristics. Thus the self-made merchant is overdone in his pride of low origin ; he is the stage John Bull,—cautious, vulgar, soft-hearted, and generous. Sir Reginald is a fiend incarnate, which is not altogether probable in relation to a brave officer and an English baronet. And as for the Italian brigands, we are sorry to learn that such a set of blood- thirsty rascals, itching to torture their prisoners on their road to death by every form of atrocity, exists in Sicily in the end of the nineteenth century. Their power of foaming at the mouth with rage, but without cause, is an idiosyncracy of Sicilian bandits worth the notice of English tourists, and so also is the ease with which they (the tourists) can master the idiomatic Italian of these mountain- eers. There is one powerful description in the tale ; it is that of Walter's feelings in the possession of youth, health, and liberty, but in the know- ledge that he had pledged his honour to surrender himself prisoner, and in the certain prospect that the next day would be the one of his own torture and death. But its solemnity is disturbed by the incon- grudus absurdity of the circumstances which give rise to it, and by the anti-climax of the gracious permission to marry which he extends to the young lady to whom he is not even engaged, and by his adding his wishes that she may be happy "in her wedded life." A companion picture to this instance of striking generosity is the one in which the brigand girl who has fallen in love with Walter, but has been shot in a fray, places his hand in that of Lilian, and desiring her to make him happy, ejaculates with her dying breath, " May Heaven bless you both!"
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