NEW NOVELS. * Few writers have so rapidly and decidedly disappointed

expecta- tion as Mr. Charles Heade ; yet when one looks back upon his literary career the causes of his decline seem to be distinctly traceable. His first two novels exhibited a nice appreciation of character, with a refined or powerful delineation as the nature of the life and action required; strongly vivid in Christie Johnstone playfully buoyant in Peg Wilfington, with a scintillation of satire. There was, however, but an indifferent sense of the critical morality re- quisite in works of imagination, and from the writer's nature or earlier practice a strong turn for theatrical melodrama. The last fault was more visible in Never too Late to 3Iend than in the previous novels, perhaps because the nature of the story en- couraged its development. A rigid critic of the classical school might raise a question as to the critical morality in Never too Late ; doubting whether the persons and the circumstances are proper for fiction unless treated with deeper thought and less onesided- ness than Mr. Resale exhibits. However, in that unquestionably powerful work he reached his culminating point, and has quickly sank to his setting ; for much lower as a story-writer he cannot well go than in Crean, containing "The Autobiography of a Thief," and " Jack of All Trades, a Matter-of-Fact Romance." The Autobiography indeed professes to be the actual life of the hero of Never too Late, written by himself, and addressed to the gaol chaplain out of gratitude for his spiritual aid, &o. Doubtless this is the case; though there are passages in the avowed fiction that follows it which read like the production of the same hand. But be the author who he may, the story is without interest, and with- out purpose, unless it be to impress upon the reader doubts as to the too lenient character of the criminal law or at least of its ad- ministration. There are men who hold the opinion that criminals are formed by circumstances and education, and that society being chargeable through its neglect, with such evils as produce the genus criminal, has no right to revenge its own shortcomings upon him as upon a scapegoat. There is no illustration of this idea in the life of Mr. Reade's hero, even if we suppose the notion to be trim. "Neither does the life illustrate the moral of bad company, or even exhibit the overpowering effects of temptation. The pseudo Robinson with a long string of aliases began his career by robbing his godfather of fifty pounds, when that person had for reasons ordered him out his house. When this money was spent, Robinson got a respectable situation at least sufficient for his wants; but, as he naively says, "one (ley he [his master] sent me to the bank to draw some money ; on this I ebsconded with the money, and went to Edinburgh." He had other chances even r this, and made use of one of them to seduce a young woman as Newcastle, for which he professes a sentimental repentance. The .gkeeter part of his career, however, consists of mere felony_ hoevbreaking, and any other species of dishonest gain to obtain dishoneseezleasures, unredeemed by any touch of manli- ness, strength of etreee

ter or interest in the adventures them- but it is rather a superficial

Ita...b.ezthink the narrative shows ability ;

selves. Mr. Heade seems,

, that glides along glibly from want of thought and want of care. -The elements of Robinson's character are those which form the complete rogue—weakness, Create. By Charles Heade, Anil" "White Lies," Sre. ovvlains Jack of All Trades, a Matter-of-Fact Romance ; and the Autobiography of a Thies. pub. lished by THibner and Co.

The Old Palace. By Julia Tilt, Author of "May Hamilton," gic. In two volumes. Published by Bentley. Oasten BAJA. By L. S. Lavenu, Author of " Erlesmere." In two volumes. Published by Smith, Elder, and Co.

folly if consequences are looked to and knavery: Of aural sense he seems to have had none ; his only doubt is the profit of

such a career after all ; for though often possessed of a good deal of money, he never had a five-pound note =actual reserve. If he entertains the notion of reform, the first opportunity (we do not say temptation) drives it away.

The ' Matter-of-Fact Romance " is written in much the same style, and its matter and moral tone are much the same as " The Autobiography," less the felonious element. The life of the 44Jack of All Trades -" is essentially similar, we should inlogine to that of any artisan with an unsettled mood of mind and a changeful disposition. The exception is the attendance of the hero upon an elephant, which, originally brought over by Yates for the Adelphe was exhibited many years ago in. this country. The situation of the Jack of All Trades as a species of showman to the animal leads him through America and the Continent, as well as Great Britain, and gives rise to some adventures. A bull and tiger fight, where the wild beast neglected his antagonist, in one of the best. The French proprietor of the elephant had struck up a temporary partnership with the proprietor of a small me- nagerie, and clubbing their forces they travelled the provinces. Our exhibition, successful at first, began to flag; so then the fertile brain of Id. Huguet had to work. He proposed to his partnes to stand s tiger and he would stand a bull, and we will have a jeant-stock.figlit like the King of Oude.' Michelet had his misgivings, but Huguet ovenuled him. That ingenious gentleman then printed bills, advertising fork cer- tain day a fight between a real Bengal tiger and a ferocious bull that had just gored a man to death. This done, he sent me round the villages to find and hire a bull : mind you get a mild one, or I shall have to pay for a hole in the tiger's leather.' I found one which the owner consented to risk for so much money down, and the damage he should sustain from tiger to be valued independently by two farmers after the battle."

The bull with some difficulty was got to the spot.

"When we did arrive in the arena, the spectators were tired of waiting. The bull stood in the middle confused and stupid. The tiger was in his cage in a corner; we gave him time to observe his prey, and then we opened the door of his cage. "A shiver ran through the audience, (they were all seated in boxes look- ing down on the area.)

"A moment more and the furious animal would spring upon his victim, and his fangs and claws sink deep into its neck, &c., &c.—vide books of travels.

"One moment succeeded to another and nothing occurred. The ferocious animal lay quiet in his cage, and showed no sign ; so then we pok.athe ferocious animal—he snarled, but would not venture out. When this had lasted a long time, the spectators began to doubt his ferocity, and to goose the ferocious animal. So I got a red-hotiron and nagged him behind. He gave a yell of dismay and went into the arena like a shot. He took no no- tice of the bull ; all he thought of was escape from the horrors that sur- rounded him : winged by terror, he gave a tremendous spring and landed fore-paws on the boxes, stuck fast and glared in at the spectators. They rushed out yelling. He dug his hind-claws into the wood-work and by slow and painful degrees clambered into the boxes. When he got in, the young and active were gone home, and he ran down the stairs among the old people that could not get clear so gni& as the rest. He was so frightened at the people that he skulked and lad himself in a corn-field, and the people were so frightened at him that they ran home and locked their street-doom. So one coward made many.

"They thought the poor wretch had attacked them; the journal next day maintained this view of the transaction, and the town to this day be- lieves it. We netted our striped coward with four shutters, and kicked Dim into his cage."

Julia Tilt's story of The Old Palace belongs to the rather limited class of novels where a mystery is resolved in a denouement of considerable power, that scene Tieing reached by a series of occurrences which whether intentionally or not give to the climax the force of contrast by their own quietness. Of course this secret always has the effect of crossing true love' and in the tale before us it is managed with remarkable skilL Generally speaking, the mystery is none at all to the reader. The persons of the drama may be puzzled or dull, but the reader, surveying the whole and holding the clue in his hands, pierces the heart of the mystery without violating the rule of romance-reading and looking to the end. In The Old Palace, we think the most practised student of the circulating library will be at a loss, and as much surprised as the lover and heroine when the secret is disclosed. Till the climax is approached the occurrences are of a slight and rather everyday kind, though something like character is given to the narrative by the story being laid in the days of our grand- mothers, and advantage taken of the time to paint the modes and manners of George the Third's age, introducing, as the title sug- gests, some of the persons and personages of the Court. Those manners are rather minutely dwelt upon, but they are consistent with the story and the reflections with the assumed septuagena- rian age of the writer. For leisurely reading, The Old Palace is a pleasant book.

The metaphysical novel, in which a particular course of train- ing and a singular series of circumstances are invented to form a singular character, is apt to become slow. After the first novelty of stories of this class is over, the reader gets weary of long

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drawn accounts of trivial circumstances, that their very creator only deems of importance for the use he is making of them ; and though stirring incidents and deep passion always produce an effect, this effect may be marred by the incongruity between the incident and the motives—the want of consistency between cause and effect.

This deficiency of interest is more felt if the reader does not dearly perceive the purpose which the novelist has in view, or finds it of so limited a nature that nothing really comes of the whole story. This is the case with Mr. Lames Gaston Blig14 something of repetition being added to narrowness. There is 110 direct resemblance between this novel and. Erlesmere ; but they e,ach have some system of education as their basis of action ; the life exhibited is as little like reality as well can be in the motives and conduct of the dramatis persona? and when we get to the end of the road we reach nothing, and. know not why we have been asked to travel it. Gaston Bligh has the advantage over ita pre- cursor in a simple story, but with less complexity there is less strength. The conclusion of the last fiction is even less satisfac- tory than that of the first. Mr. Bligh, the father of the hero, has some scheme of educa- tion' respecting the nature of which the reader is left in the dark; but the father dying, Mrs. Bligh undertakes to carry it out upon Gaston, with but an indifferent result. He is a remarkable and not very agreeable young gentleman. As the merest child, he lies in his cot and transforms the red beams of the setting sun into something like flames of a very hot place ; as a little child, the view of a landscape makes him feel as if he had wings and seta him longing for a pair ; the strict manner in which he is brought up makes him a very bad boy—so much so, that over- hearing a lady speaking ill of him to his mother, he sets the house on fire out of revenge, and is the cause of a girl of his own age being nearly burned to death. In this kind of AR aggerated yet uninteresting way matters go on, till Mr. Gaston Bligh be- comes an Oxford student and meets a lady cousin, Sylvia God- win, whose mother was kind to him as a child—indeed was the only person he ever loved. Of course he falls in love with the daughter, and his passion is returned ; but then a difficulty turns up in the form of a document written by Sylvia's mother forbid- ding this marriage. As the lady is firm, there is nothing for it but a parting ; but they meet again, and an engagement is de- termined on, but broken off through Mrs. Godwin appearing to her daughter in a dream. More follows, but not a whit more ra- tional.

All this and other matter of a similar kind, is told in the strong- est style of the intense school ; yet as soon as Mr. Lavenu gets away from his metaphysics, he exhibits powers of observation and reflection with nice delineation of real characters and touches of light satire. Some of the best things in this way are so con- nected with the context that they hardly bear separation ; but here is a bit from a dying friend, who has lived unhappily through

the coldness of his wife, absorbed in attaining a social celebrity of a small kind.

" vague self-pitying took possession of me. I began to feel if I did not think myself also sinned against, when I saw Mr. Smith so deserted by Ins nearest, and I set myself the more to soothe his dying hours that I too was uncompanioned. Medical alleviations could not stay the advancing disease. Each day its symptoms grew more painful—each day Mr. Smith more touchingly patient. He became fond of me, and talked freely of his life and its experience. "'My dear boy,' he said, one day when he was tired of watching his aquavivarium, a fancy which amused him, I think you have a heart : if you have cultivate it. Forgive me if I say your family have nearly every other gift; but they don't love much. They have quick minds enough, and they read in books about love, and think they give affection to persons when really they only admire them.' "'And is n't it well to love what we admire ? ' "'Very well for ourselves, Gaston; but the purest selfishness. Look here at this sea-anemone with its bright colouring and universal-genius sort of fingers; I drop this bit of bread within the anemone's grasp. It is quite enthusiaatic—takes it to its heart—but in half an hour the bread is scornfully rejected.' But it keeps some things for ever.' " Precisely : devours them; it understands nothing else. Cultivate your heart, my boy; you've feelers enough—have feelings.' "