MISS ROSSETTI'S SHORT TALES.*
WE may say of the author of the Goblin Market what Carlyle wrote so patronizingly of Emerson—making the necessary altera- tions for the difference of sex—" The words of such a woman, what words she finds good to speak, are worth attending to " ; at any rate, we should expect them to be so, and admit Miss Ros- setti's indisputable claim to be read and noticed ; but she has diverged into an entirely different region, and the exuberance and delicacy of fancy, which are such charming characteristics of her poems, have not much play in short stories like these—principally of ordinary life. We sigh to find the spell broken, and that the authoress of such exquisite verses can indeed write common- place ; not that evidence of the same fancy is entirely wanting, but it is chiefly exhibited in the grotesque variety of the wares offered for our acceptance, and which are adapted to such opposite classes of customers, and belong to such different periods of life, that we are involuntarily reminded of her own goblin merchant- men crying to the passers, "Come buy, come buy ! " and offering fruits of every clime and season, " all ripe together." Here are fairy tales for children, instructive notes for High-Church parsons, baby details for mothers, quasi old-world history for antiquarians, tracts for the pious, love-stories for the young, and gossipy commonplace for quiet old maids. The fairy tales, only, remind us of their beautiful half-sisters, the poems, and have to sustain alone, as far as they can, the reputation of their common mother, and to introduce and to plead for their less attractive relatives, who are received out of respect for their parentage, and retained because all or none must be taken—as we put up with the uninteresting brothers of a family for the sake of the sweet and graceful girls. But even the fairy tales do not quite suit our ideas ; they are fanciful and deli- cate, and the morals inculcated unexceptionable ; but Miss Rossetti is a little out of her depth, and creates marvels which, judged even by the broad and liberal minds that arranged the natural laws of the fairy world, would seem to be impossibilities ; in one story, for instance, a gentleman, we will call him number one—having been so empowered by the fairies, wills to become another gentle- man—say number two—and while number one remains number two, number two dies, but number one does not die ; and yet there are not two gentlemen, but one gentleman, and we are to believe in one gentleman in duality and duality in unity, neither confounding the persons nor dividing the substance. The idea in both fairy tales is the same, namely that envy is best cured by letting the malcontent direct his own fortunes for a time, when he will speedily see how much better Providence can work for him than he can work for himself. In the second tale, a fisherman's daughter is the patient, and the fairies give her the power of becoming, at any moment, the thing most admired and sought after for the time being ; in pursuit of this end she is, in turn, a priceless diamond, a peerless princess, an unrivalled prima-donna, and the rarest of plants ; but as the princess and the prima-donna outlive the hours in which their glories culminate, we are saved similar complications to those which arise in the case of the dis- contented gentleman we have referred to ; the part of the second fairy tale which introduces the fisher-girl to fairy-land is very pretty, and provides us with a few pages of rich and fanciful description that are worthy of the authoress of the poems.
We do not mean that the other stories in the volume have no merit ; they are all characterized by purity of language and refine- ment of thought and a spirit of gentle affectionateness, and the sketches are drawn with a delicate and, at the same time, faithful touch ; here is a passage which suggests sweet and attractive qualities in two unassuming and simple gentlewomen ; they are the elder sisters of a pretty wilful beauty, who has been informed of an invitation, but that it is the turn of the second sister to go with the eldest ; the young lady is especially incensed to hear that their old governess is to take charge of her during their absence.
" For once Catherine answered her favourite sister with severity. ' Jane, you know why it is impossible for us all to leave home together. This is the last year you will be called upon to remain behind, for after
• Sonemonpkge, and other Short Tara. By Christina G. Rossetti London: Ellis. Lucy's next birthday it is agreed between us that she will take turns with me in chaperoning you. Do not make what may be our last ex- cursion together unpleasant by your unkindness.' Still Jane was not silenced. 'At any rate, it need not be Miss Drum. I will stay here alone, or I will have somebody more amusing than Miss Drum.' Before Catherine could reply, Lucy with an effort struck into the dispute. 'Jane, don't speak like that to our sister ; I should be ashamed to speak to her so. Still, Catherine,' she continued, without noticing a muttered retort from the other, ' after all, I am going to side with Jane on the main point, and ask you to take her to Notting Hill, and leave me at home to keep house with dear old Miss Drum. This really was my own wish before Jane spoke, so pray let us not say another word on the sub- ject.' But Catherine saw how pale and languid she looked, and stood firm. No Lucy, that would be unreasonable; Jane ought not to have made any difficulty. You have lost your colour lately and your appetite, and need a change more than either of us. I shall write to Mrs. Tyke, promising her and the doctor your company next Thursday ; Jane will make up her mind like a good girl, and I am sure you, my dear, will oblige me by not withholding your assent. For the first time 'my dear' did not close the debate. Catherine,' said Lucy, earnestly, whilst, do what she would, tears gathered in her eyes, am certain you will not press me further, when I assure you that I do not feel equal to paying this visit. I have felt weak lately,' she went on hurriedly, ' and I cannot tell you how much I long for the quiet of a month at home rather than in that perpetual bustle. Merely for my own sake, Jane must go.' Catherine said no more just then ; but later, alone with Lacy, resumed the subject so far as to ask whether she continued in the same mind, and answering her flurried yes' by no word of remonstrance, but by an affectionate kiss. This was all which passed between them ; neither then nor afterwards did the younger sister feel certain whether Catherine had or had not guessed her secret. Miss Drum was invited to stay with Lucy in her solitude, and gladly accepted the invitation. Lucy was her favourite, and when they were together, they petted each other very tenderly."
Nevertheless the stories are, with the exceptions we have named, wanting in originality and power, and the interest is of the very slenderest kind ; smiles and tears are equally out of the question, unless we are prepared to weep—in " Vanna's Twins "—over a variety of the old story of the babes in the wood, or to smile—in " Commonplace "—at the simple-minded fun that amuses Dr. Tyke and his guests. There is, however, a real vein of quiet humour in Miss Rossetti, which peeps out in this sketch of the kind-hearted old physician making his doggrel rhymes and bad puns, and in those of the ladies in the tableaux manoeuvring to outshine each other, and of the purse-proud Mr. Durham vaunt- ing the splendours of " Orpingham Place,"—a magnificent show- house, to which we cannot do better, perhaps, than give our readers a ticket of admission. Mr. Durham and his daughter and son-in-law are lunching at Dr. Tyke's :—
" Mr. Durham, indeed, was pompous and unabashed as ever ; but whilst he answered commonplace remarks by remarks no less common- place, he appeared to be, as in fact he was, occupied in scrutinizing and mentally valuing, the plate and china. Charming weather,' said Mrs. Tyke, with an air of intelligent originality.—' Yes, ma'am ; fine weather, indeed; billing and cooing weather; ha! ha!' with a glance across the table. 'Now I dare say your young ladies know what to do in this weather.'—' We have no children,' and Mrs. Tyke whispered, lest her husband should hear. Then after a pause, ' I dare say Orpingham Place was just coming into beauty when you left.' Mr. Durham thrust his thumbs into his waistcoat-pockets, and leaned back for conversation. 'Well, I don't know what to say to that—I don't indeed ; I don't know which the Beason is when Orpingham Place is not in beauty. Its con- servatories were quite a local lion last winter—quite a local lion, as my friend the Duke remarked to me ; and he said he must bring the Duchess over to see them, and he did bring her Grace over ; and I gave them a luncheon in the largest conservatory, such as I don't suppose they sit down to every day, For the nobility have blood, if you please, and the literary beggars are welcome to all the brains they've got (the Doctor smiled, Alan winced visibly); but you'll find it's us city men who've got backbone, and backbone's the best to wear, as I observed to the Duke that very day when I gave him such a glass of port as he hasn't got in his cellar. I said it to him, just as I say it to you, ma'am, and he didn't contradict me ; in fact, you know, he couldn't.' " If there is very little to praise, there is very little to blame in this unpretending volume, with an exception which we will make further on ; indeed we are driven, in order to prove that we have done our pleasant work carefully, to point to an objectionable reference to the scurf on the twins' heads, and to state that we think we have detected an anachronism in the sixth chapter of " Commonplace " ; and further, may we ask Miss Rossetti if she really believes that the most conscientious of old maids would think it necessary to remain in the ranks of spinsterhood—doubt- less estimable ones—and to reside permanently in a dull sea-side town, because her mother, whose brains had departed in advance of her breath, had asked her to be ready for her father (who had been drowned), whenever he returned ?
We must, however, protest against binding up three tracts with the tales, and palming them upon the public as stories ; one of them —a misty allegory—we suppose, about the end of the world—is called "A Safe Investment," and contains a very terrific account of what went on at a seaport town one stormy night, when everyone seems to have declined to go to bed, and to have preferred roaming frantically about, knocking against each other in the pitchy dark- ness, on their way to the bank to get their cheques cashed, or in their desire to look on, while the vessels on the coast are —one and all—being wrecked ; such an accumulation of disasters were never described before as happening in a few consecutive hours, for it was nearly morning before the hubbub began, though the darkness was so impenetrable throughout ; there was time, however, for an ex- plosion at the gas-works, for the reservoir at the water-works to burst, for all the banks in the town and neighbourhood (including the national Bank) to break, for the respective clerks to send tele- grams, and for the depositors to make a rush for every penny that was forthcoming ; how the telegraph and bank clerks happened to be at their posts before the dawn, and how the investors got scent of their disasters at such an hour, is not explained ; but so it was, and everyone was ruined, and met in the Exchange to discuss these awful events, before the first streak of morning. And all this was wit- nessed by one self-possessed—we should say, cold-blooded—being, who went about on a white horse, and who could only obtain re- freshment from an elderly lady, who seems, curiously enough, to have been peculiarly confiding, not to say incautious, in the invest- ment of her sayings. We should conclude that this gentleman is meant to represent Death in the Apocalypse who is mounted on a white horse, except that when he makes his visits he ties his horse up to posts, which Death could hardly do without loss of dignity. Another tract contains the arguments—naturally all on one side, though we think it is the Christian side—for the High-Church practice of exclusively free sittings. The third has more claim to be called a story, but takes the narrow view that the Church of England is the only fold of Christ, and labours in a catechetical form to establish this doctrine.
On the whole, we cannot help regretting that Miss Rossetti has collected into a volume such very slight and incongruous materials.
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