NEW NOVELS.*

ALTneueu neither so broad or so varied as some of her previous novels Miss Geraldine E. Jewsbury's .Right t or Wrong s a wel-

come

novels, from the mass of fictions without matter, character, or freshness of mind, that continually come before the world. The scene of her tale Is laid mainly in Paris during the time of the Regency and Louis the Fifteenth ; and that profligate period is brought before the reader, not forcedly or laboriously—for the lead- ing characters are few in number, but vividly and with an under current of truth, that indicates the spirit of the age as well as de- lineates its mere forms. Knowledge combined with art or luck enables Miss Jewsbury, not only to exhibit types of persons, but to give us glimpses of the times themselves. In her slight preli- minary sketches of two officers of Provincial families with slender means and no interest, we feel the obstacles that corruption and court favour offered to service and merit, the bar that the same causes and financial difficulties interposed to rewards, or denied their fulfilment when nominally granted. And in these two cases slight as they are, we seem to see more clearly than in solemn disquisitions' how the Royal army itself must have hailed the promises of the Revolution. The little real life that was left among the soldiery, we are shown had altogether vanished from the Churchmen, save in individuals who could not stern the tor- rent around them even had they tried. The Vicomte de Valam- brosa, his valet, and connexions represent the nobility of the day—possibly with some " indeaedness " to the novel and the theatre, especially in the valet ; but the Vicomte and the story with which he is connected mark the hardening effects of class privileges, power, pleasure, and fashion, over a nature not ori- ginally devoid of sense, spirit, and generosity. The lesser cha- racters or passing persons are equally types of French life though more superficial ; while over all is thrown a Parisian atmosphere, as if the writer could seize external traits with a felicitous ra- pidity. The defect of the book is traceable to the same source which has more or less injured the author's earlier novels. Miss Jews- bury does not form a true estimate of morality in a critical point of view. She wants that instinctive sense which teaches a novelist the almost imperceptible boundaries between actions that are even interesting, and what are repelling either to taste or feeling. The story of Right and Wrong turns upon the heroine Marguerite being entrapped into a false marriage with the Vi- comte; and then, when she leaves him on the discovery, being equally entrapped into a bout fide marriage with a monk, who has not we are told taken all the vows. The schemes of the Vioomte and his valet; the growing passion of Pere Paul, the monk, his plans of concealment, his discovery, trial, escape, re- turn and special trial by court favour, constitute the story of the book. The old trick of invalid marriages by libertines, rather prevailed in this country than in France ; where the immense difference between the noblesse and the rotarier, with the abso- lute power really possessed by the higher classes, and the state of

• Right or Wrong. By Geraldine E. Jewsbury, Author of" Constance Herbert," Ace. &c. In two volumes. Published by Hurst and Blackett.

The Verneys ; or Chaos Dispelled. A Tale of Genius and Religion. By Miss Caroline Mary Smith. Published by Rill and Virtue.

Alfred Staunton. A Novel. By J. /Banyan Biggs, Author of 'Night sad itis Soul.' A Dramatic Poem. Published by James Blackwood.

public opinion, rendered this kind of fraud less needful. This mock marriage is thus exceptional in itself, and somewhat stale as a means of effect; the real marriage with a monk, no matter haw explained or accounted for, is distasteful, especially with the paragon this monk is at first represented. Nor is there sufficient purpose for it all. From particular passages it might be inferred that to illustrate "the wrongs of women" was the object of the writer ; it is needless to observe that the particular cases in the novel, or any case which the old French regime might furnish would avail but little as a lesson for the present day in this coun- try. The moral that M. Paul himself expounds in his old age at Brussels to his son-in-law, is this.

" Then " said M. Nogaret, "your conclusion of the whole matter is, that a man ha; no right to separate himself from the rest of the world, not even to bring himself to perfection, and cultivate without hindrance the good of his own soul ? "

"Yes, that is my thought, neither by retiring from the world bodily nor yet by keeping himself superciliously apart can a man think himself better than his fellows, and be blameless. All egoism, however subtle in its work- ings or disguised in its aspect, is the one deadly sin that contains in itself the germ of all the rest. I speak from my own experience. Self-conscious- ness, the desire to bring my me to perfection, that /might be beautiful and grand, was the rook on which I split. I worshipped the ideal of myself, and endeavoured to realize it; but in the artistic pride of beautifying my life I did not recognize how far I had gone from the straight simplicity of following after the thin; that is right. I had disguised in fine names the common sins of pride, dissimulation, and telling lies, till my whole life was a tissue of double dealing; the essence of my error did not lie in the fact that I quitted my monastic life after taking on me the TOWN but in the en- deavour to seem what I was not. I was proud of the strength of my will which enabled mete carry along a double existence ; it was not until I was found out and rudely exposed to the comments and contempt of men whom I had deemed my inferiors in the scale of humanity, that [recognized that I was no better than they., that they too were my brothers. I had been utterly false in all my dealings. After my escape I felt degraded, and I re- volted against the humiliation of being discovered ; but in my dungeon I had time to meditate, to take home the conviction and to accept it. I felt glad of my exposure and utter ruin, because I was able to stand true once more. I thank God that He has granted me length of life to redeem the past, and that my sins have not been visited on my children."

The broad object of The Verney& is clear enough. The aim of the story is to prove by example the insufficiency of human genius and worldly success to secure happiness, and also to show that what many deem the greatest evil—the death of our dearest connections, is really no evil at all, if rightly improved to the purposes of religion. In this didactic view the story fails. Gil- bert Verney, though undoubtedly a remarkable man, and success- ful in life, if not in a very consistent or probable way, can hardly be called a "genius." He and his daughter Florence are not perhaps bad subjects to illustrate the peculiar ideas of Miss smith; for they have cultivated minds, ample means, unblem- ished character, and perfect sympathy yet wealth, society,

filial love, cannot fill a void in the heart of Florence. Some readers may fancy the difference between her and Herbert Carew

may have something to do with her indifference to the attractions of the world or the charms of nature; but the conduct of the story does not support that conclusion. The theological con- clusions of the writer have to be taken on trust. We are told that Florence feels a void; that she gathers some indistinct comfort from the bible, and is converted by a country clergyman, while her father "follows suit" throughout, though.with weaker cards. But the reader does not sufficiently see the modus operandi. The Duchess de Mentrenlle, and Blanche Rivington are both brought to feel that the deaths of their husbands were designed to wean them, from what the vocabularia artis of some religious de- nominations, calls the "worship of the creature." But while the re- igious truth is not efficiently brought home to the reader, the con- clusion of the story is felt to be unsatisfactory. The circulating library patrons will wish a happier ending. The religious philosophy being put aside, The Verney& may be recommended as a remarkable tale of the metaphysical class, where character predominates over incident, and the persons are rather creations of the novelist than types of actual life. Gabriel Verney, the poor French village boy, animated by a sense of su- periority, and a restless desire for knowledge, who throws him- self utterly destitute upon the world to seek learning, is a fresh and powerfully drawn character, well sustained throughout. He is also consistent, save in the readiness with which he abandons the pursuit of knowledge, after her ample page has been unrolled

by the Duo de Mentrenlle placing him at a public school, for the trade of picture-dealing, and at first, in its most mechanical branch. The Duo and 'Duchess are charming creations,—good- ness and virtue superadded to the graces of the old noblesse. And nearly all the principal actors have a force, consistency, and life-like air, though they seem inventions, rather than the result of observation, and all of them are singulars, not types. Some of the less conspicuous persons appear drawn from life, and strange to say, the French lower classes are the best done. In the hey- day of his prosperity and religious indifference Gabriel Verney has neglected his family. After his conversion he pays them a visit incognito, learns that his parents are dead, and betrays him- self by an inquiry after his brother-in-law.

"'And where is Jacques Leniain ? '

" 'fiacristie ! how knew the gentleman hisname ? he has been dead these ten years.' And Jeanne accompanied her speech with such a searching gaze that Gabriel believed himself recognized. The woman was evidently per- plexed, and the shaggy-beaded bourgeois added his scrutiny of the mild fea- tures of the unknown ; but it was the younger woman who started up, say- ing, 'This will be one of them who were lost, mother.'

"And Jeanne Lemain cried out, Gabriel ! Gabriel ! art thou Gabriel ? ' and made a movement to reach him, checked instantly by the conscious die- parity between themselves and him ; but Batiste Verney exclaimed, with in. oath, What dost thou thrusting thyself in here?'

"Then Gabriel's heart melted within him—melted with oompassion over. his kindred ; and he rose up, and, leaning over the little dresser,—the an- cient one,—he told them that he was verily and indeed their brother Ga- briel Verney, and that he was therefor no other purpose but to benefit them, if he were able, and that his heart was heavy for the deaths of his father and his mother.

"The women listened with parted lips. They believed him, though the one did not recognize him any more than did the other; and Gabriel, cast- ing his eyes upon his brother, who had also risen from his bench, perceived the gleaming eyes of the miscreant moved, not by family affection, truly, but with a swift admiration of his own gold-linked chain. It had been a choice of Florence's, and so it was always worn, and was the only costly thing about Gabriel's attire. There was no mistaking the meaning of that dark regard, and Gabriel's eyes met those of the other with a gaze equally piercing. The miscreant was probably abashed by it, for he moved towards the door and went out. Gabriel followed, to tell hie brother (!) he would prefer that his return should not be published abroad at the present. Ba- tiste answered, with a leer, to the purport, that, Doubtless, monsieur felt ashamed of his family.'

"Then Gabriel sat down by his sister, and though they did not fall into each other's arms with a disregard of contending circumstances, they felt like kindred. And the young woman, Natalie, could not move out of hear- ing, for all she had the house to put straight, and felt her heart within her attracted to the grand gentleman, her uncle. "Jeanne had never been wanting in common sense, and Gabriel was not now dissatisfied with anything she said. The mind was, indeed, in a lost state, but the natural heart was humanly good. Eagerly, and with an utter dependence upon her new-found friend, she poured forth the history of Ba- tiste's wickedness ; how he was a curse to Ins people, and only herself per- mitted him to sleep under a decent ;nof lest he should rob or murder. He had only been home a few months from working at the galleys for fifteen years for a crime too frightful to name and for which such a sentence was only

years, lenient. She dare not receive him, but that Natalie is a brave girl, and alone commands his respect, and between his liking for Natalie and a half awe of herself he behaves pretty well. But Jeanne wishes the bad man would go away from the town, for no one will employ him, and it CMOS hard upon her and Natalie to have to find him food.

"And Gabriel is stranded at the first onset, by his utter inability to con- ceive in what way this his brother can be possibly reclaimed.

"'And those I saw when I entered,' said Gabriel ; your daughter, and daughter-in-law, and your two sons—what are they ?'

" Honest folk,' said Jeanne, decent and peaceable.' "And she crossed herself, and again gave thanks, and then fell into what seemed to be the favourite channel of her affections—Natalie—the good Natalie, who closed her father's eyes, and had refused to take a husband, that she might better tend her mother. Natalie, who works hard and earns great wages—Natalie, who isnever seen at the guingette, unless her mother accompanies her.

"Gabriel listened to this with thankfulness. Please God, there was hope for Natalie ; already he loved Natalie—yearning over his kinswoman, so vir- tuous in her ignorance.

" Natalie ! there is a good thing promised to those who honour that pa- rents—they shall have long life.' "Natalie gazed, wonderingly. She found a difficulty in comprehending the pure French spoken by Gabriel; but her patois was old music, uncouth, but beautiful to the ears which had not heard it for long."

Having mentioned the more theological parts as a failure, we should add that they have been endorsed by a Doctor of Divinity. We learn from the dedication that "the Rev. James Hamilton, D.D. Minister of the Scottish Church, Regent Square, has kindly honoured it [the book] with his approbation."

Mr. Stanyan Bigg,s's Alfred Staunton is in substance a com- mon-place tale, founded on the old story of a suppressed will, by which the rightful heirs are kept out of property, to be recovered towards the finis of the book. The tone and. in some degree the form belong to the novel of adventure ; though the adventures themselves are not of a very striking kind. A large portion of the scene is laid in the north of England, and its broad dialect, and coarse but hearty and shrewd characters give some freshness to the scenes in which they occur. The language, however, is not always readily intelligible, and scenes are occasionally made, or extended, to exhibit provincial peculiarities. In short, Alfred Staunton is neither a very powerful or artistical affair, and in point of school is of a low caste.