NEW NOVELS..

Lethelter is written to illustrate two theories, the one social, the other literary. This fact we gather from the conversation of two persons who" fulfil, in the novel, functions analogous to those of the Chorus in a Greek drama. The social theory is, that "in do- mestio life the largest percentage of misery is produced by nega- tive crimes "—that is to say, "pompous neglectful blindness on the part of those who, directly or indirectly, possess parental power and influence ; " that the world is full of negative villains, and that " such persons do more harm than the downright ruffians, for society combines to defend itself against open enemies, while it lets the ammalculee eat into its heart." The literary theory is, that, in novels, more attention should be paid. to details, and lees to scenic effect, and that they should be constructed, as it were, on pre-Raphaelite principles, the story being painted without con- ventional colouring; for, says Chorus, We are too apt to confound dramatic power with dramatically placed incidents. Time and space limit the acted drama—the novel is unfettered. But the former has the advantage of concentration and proximity to the public, and avails itself of that advantage by using broad, effective touches of contrasted colouring—as the latter has the advantage of command- ing time and space, and might avail itself of it by truthfulness of detail—but does not." Does it not? As a general assertion, this is, at least, questionable ; it is decidedly untrue as regards many particular instances, among which it is enough to mention Miss Austen's novels. It strikes us that, in truthfulness of detail, and freedom from conventional colouring, Miss Austen has realized the ideal which Mr. Daring has indicated in the above passage, but which he has failed to exemplify in the story of Lethelter. He has not painted a picture, but some scraps of studies for parts of a picture, and has tried to make up for their want of unity by lecturing upon them. This mode of treatment is quite as conven- tional as that which he condemns, and far less pleasing. He tells his story aphoristically, patching together disjointed bits of ac- tion with plenty of didactic matter, and, though both elements are good enough in their way, they damage each other by their in- congruous union. The reader is but languidly interested in the persons in the tale, because he is not allowed to fix his attention continuously on them and their doings, or to be left long alone in their company ; and, from a full enjoyment of the author's shrewd discourse, he is debarred by a feeling of its obtrusiveness. This feeling is not the less strong because the author does not al- ways speak in his own person, but affects to disguise himself under such masques as Acton and Lady Erpingham. The voice is still the same, and these two persons, who talk more than all the rest, and do nothing, are evidently produced for no other purpose than to serve as lay figures in the performance of Mr. Dames monopolylogne.

Seldom have we found, in any religious novel, more freedom from religious pedantry, combined with earnest advocacy of fixed prin- ciples of belief; than in Yes and No ; or Glimpses of the Great Conflict. It is a most favourable specimen of its ekes, but the class itself is illegitimate, and the best of its members cannot be wholly exempt from the defects inherent in its constitution. A novelist is no more forbidden by the nature of things to deal with .religion than with any other powerful motive of human action; but his licence extends no further in the one case than in th other. It may be his business to indicate the manner in which creeds and circumstances react upon, each other, how the former wax and wane, how they affect the character, conduct, and well- being of individuals aaa bodies of men, but he exceeds his pro-

• Lethelier. By Edward Ireneage Dering. In two volumes. Published by

Hunt and Blackett. Yes and No; or Glimpses of the Great Conflict. In three volumes. Published

by Macmillan and Co.

The Hallow Isle Tragedy. In three volumes. Published by Chapman and Man. Rifle in Sicily. In two volumes. Published by Chapman and Hall.

vince when he undertakes to treat them argumentatively, or to re- view the evidence for or against them. He then incurs the inevitable fate of all who attempt to unite two incompatible pro- cesses ; he spoils them both. The main purpose of Yes and No is to show how a wayward youth of genius, Ralph Esdaile, alias Jules Bayliere, was converted from Atheism to a fervent faith in Christianity, but the chapters devoted to this transmutation form the least: satisfactory portion of a work in which there is other- wise much to admire. Parts of the story are full of interest, and over the whole of it is diffused a rich glow of thought, the emanation of a highly cultivated mind and kindly temperament. As the thoughts are, so is the language that embodies them. Be- tween them, there is the same spontaneous harmony as between the play of features in a finely expressed countenance, and the movements of the soul of which they are the visible expression. Throughout a large portion of the story, the scene is in France, Italy, Egypt or Nubia, and the impressions made on the tra- vellers are eloquently rendered in passages well worthy to be quoted, if space allowed. We can just make room for the fol- lowing remarks on ancient art.

" The Young Augustus' greatly delighted the ladies. The features were a little like those of Jules, but the self-restraint, the repression of power, the capacity of waiting, the astute self-consciousness, and prophetic sway visible in that face, were elements of character which Jules Bayliere did not under- stand, and could by no means simulate. He was about to commence a small oration, but the Major cut it short by saying, as he placed his hand within Jules's arm, One grand lesson that we may learn from heathendom is, the power of self-repression, and patient-waiting. Just carry that idea with you, as you look upon the Torso,' the Meleager,' the Apollo,' the Philo- sophers,' and the various forms of Dionysius and Antious, in all of which, one of the chief elements of greatness consists in the fact that they all, in attitude, gesture, and expression, suggest incomparably more power than they use. or embody. This characteristic, I believe, belongs to all intellec- tual greatness, to every being who would govern his fellows, and is, per- haps' the grand secret of dominion over mind. An orator loses command over his audience as soon as he loses his self-command; a poet ceases to in- spire us, directly that his imagination outstrips him ; a philosopher has lost the ear of the world, the moment that he merges all his powers in that of analysis • the tyrant often finds a master in some passion which'enslaves him. Greek art enshrined this idea, which is more or less developed in every cycle and style of greatness ; but which has been once brought to per- fection, and once only."

The Hallow Isle Tragedy is a very humdrum affair, or—to speak of it in the local dialect—it's wairsh, wairsh, for a' the warld like a kiss frae a body ye dinna like. Hallow Isle is one of the Orkneys, to the ministry of which an exceedingly common- place young 4otch dominie is appointed by the Free Kirk at the period of the disruption, and his residence there with his sister, who marries the laird at the end of the third volume, forms the subject of a thousand pages which will sorely task the patience of the most intrepid novel reader Three volumes more absolutely blank of any kind of interest, are scarcely to be found in the whole range of modern fiction.

Effie in Sicily is another book, in which the buttermen have a prospective interest. It is worth just what it will fetch per pound. However, it has this advantage over The Hallow Isle Tragedy, that, whereas the faults of the latter are all nega- tive, those of Elfw in Sicily are stupendously positive, and pro- vocative of hearty laughter. Pages of it, by the dozen, are copied or paraphrased from the Guide Books, and the rest is a hotch- potch of unparalleled absurdities, whereof the following is but a mild specimen. Elfie is crossing over to Sicily from Naples on a moonlight night, and enters into a sentimental conversation with the man at the wheel.

"' It's a fine climate this, Miss, we're passing through,' said the man, as the ship-bell tolled one o'clock of the morning.' " B. ' Yes, it is. Is that the morning-star, Venus, we see yonder ? ' " M. Yes, Miss ; that's he.'

" B. How I should like to wander amongst those stars ! Should you ? There is no night in Heaven.' " M. 'No, I s'sposo not. I think there's a bishop belowstairs ; I heard him have prayers with the passengers.' " B. ' Do you mean that tall, elderly gentleman? That's my uncle. He is so afflicted with rheumatism that he is going to try what Sicily may do for it.'

".M. That's a pity ; for it's a mortal bad place for rheumatis. In fact, rheumatis is one of the epidemics of the country. Even infants in arms, be attacked. Children die off uncommon plenty there.' " B. How sorry he will be—I too—for I was hoping he would lose it.' " Well, after a bit, I daresay, he will lose it, Miss ; for some who have it naturally, get rid of it here., so to say, unnaturally.' " B. I understand you—the climate acts homceopathically.'

" I make no doubt that's the word for it, Miss. Look, look ! By Jove, that's fine.'

" B. Dear me ! it's the falling of a meteor. It was like the fall of a sky-rocket. I never saw anything like that in the:North. The Great Bpuit of the Universe has told us that 'the heavens declare the glory of Ood,' and how true it is ! Don't you think so ? I always regard the stars of the firmament as little glory circles whereby the spirits of the air look into Heaven, and also as little openings to let the glory through from the eternal world beyond to mortals here below. What do you think ?' "H. ' Well, Miu, I never thought of that before ; but it's uncommon natural. I've never gave my mind much to these things until lately. I've just lost mumi other.' "B. '0 dear! Oh, what a dreadful thing ! I cannot fancy anything more dread —a mother.'

' I was uncommon wild in my youth. My, poor mother's grief was something I've never been able to forget And now I be seeking my way home, to find out my mother's grave.' " B. Oh, Sir ! you have made a noble resolve. You have acted like a man. Should you ever go near Chyrren, do go and see my father and mo- ther. They will find you employment, for their hearts are ever open to the unfortunate. I will .give you a note of introduction to them. I am glad to see you cry. It is right and worthy to weep. Shall I tell you two of the most beautiful words I know ?—'Jesus wept.' Oh, Mile, it's bootiful.' "B. 'Perhaps your mother is looking down from her immortal home at this moment upon you and me.'

Oh, Miss, do 'ee think so ?' "And here a burst of feeling came uncontrolled over him ;' while Elfie wrote on an old envelope, in pencil, by the light of the binnacle, 'Mother, dearest mother, receive this stranger for my sake, and make much of him, for he has just lost a mother."

This beats everything but the tragedy of "The Rovers" in the 44 Antij acobin."