THE SACRISTAN'S HOUSEHOLD*
WE expressed at the time but a limited participation in the admi- ration which was very generally expressed for Aunt Margaret's Trouble, though we conceded that it fairly deserved its modest reputation. It was a sad story, simply, if rather too sentimentally, told ; in style a little too gushing and picturesque,—going in a little too enthusiastically for the well-known " devoted Aunt,"— but interesting and nicely worked out, and with rare brevity. The Sacristan's Household is almost the reverse of this ; instead of the interest being entirely in the story, it lies almost exclusively in its descriptions; both in style and in subject it is cheerful and healthy, and free from everything sentimental or morbid ; it ends well, too, in which last respect we hold it to be greatly the superior. Nevertheless, it will not increase, even if it fully supporta, the reputation of its author. Like Nigel Bartram's ideal (the delightful heroine of a delightful novellette reviewed not long ago in these columns), it may be described by negatives,—neither sensational nor prosy, neither exciting nor tedious, neither vulgar nor prim, neither learned nor homely.
The story harps on a well-worn string, a pretty and amiable girl, superior to her peasant friends, who turns out to be the heiress of a deceased nobleman and inheritor of large estates ; our interest, however, does not centre in the heroine,—who is pleasing, but little more than a sketch,—nor in the hero, though he is somewhat more real ; nor, if the truth must be told, in any one in the book. The scene is laid in Germany, and the time is that of the late Prussian war and ends at Sadowa ; but we see nothing of the war and hear nothing of the politics of the country ; we are carried about from Horn to Detmold, and from Detmold to Horn, but we meet with the same groups each time, not discussing, but gossiping about the same subjects ;—the respectable villagers at the Pied Lamb at Horn about the progress of revolutionary feeling, and the would-be aristocracy of the little capital at Detmold about the chances of war. Thus the book consists chiefly of sketches,— and slight, though pleasant and sometimes clever ones,—of two or three phasee of German life, and is not a tale with a strong central interest, increasing as it culminates.
Otto, the great-nephew of the old Sacristan, falls in love with a farmer's adopted daughter, refuses to become a tradesman, as the self-willed old man would have him, and goes off to the war ; the heroine is turned out of doors by the farmer's jealous wife, and finds a shelter in the cottage of the crusty old Sacristan, first having had a timely opportunity of softening the old man's heart.
Meantime, the Prince's land steward is summoned to the death- bed of his high-born wife's brother, who, he finds reason to believe, had been secretly married in early life to an unknown first wife, and the phlegmatic conscientiousness and sense of honour with which this otherwise pompous and stupid gentleman, in despite of his own interests and the hindrances presented by his wily man of law, and in the face of the rage and indignation of his wife's baffled expectations, follows up the clue, and dis- covers the truth of his surmises, are described with such nature and fidelity, that the indolent Freiherr von Groll, with his lean figure, long peaked face, and great flaxen moustache, be- comes dear to us as the true hero of the story, and worthy of all respect ; while the greedy vulgarity of his wife, and her heartless indifference to the feelings of those she deems be- neath her in rank, form, we think, its second most living picture. Otto is meant, of course, to be a prominent character ; but, except that he shows very laudable firmness and self-restraint in resisting respectfully the imperious will of his uncle, and after- wards, when a soldier, in defending himself against a group of Saxon villagers, who want to take him prisoner, he is not much more than the lay figure that too often stands for the hero of even good novels. By the way, this incident of the soldier's defence, though described with spirit, is not interwoven with sufficient care into the story. It read to us at the time like an anecdote of the war taken from the newspapers of the day, and adopted entire, and when we reached the end of the chapter we were not surprised to find a note by the author partially confirming our impression. The charcoal-burner and the Justizrath are also clearly favourites with the author, but the former is only an affectionate and sentimental relative of weak intellect and in un- fortunate circumstances ; and the latter, meant, we think, in the outset to be the Mephistopheles of the piece, ends in being, in- deed, a sly but otherwise rather well-meaning man, marked only by a secretiveness of disposition and a tortoise-like movement of his neck.
• The Sacristan's Household. By the Author of Aunt Margaret's Trouble, &c. " London: Virtue and 0o. What is most striking in the book is the prevalence of scolds. Of this class of human beings we have one male and two female specimens of a very high order, who would have been bracketed equal in a viva wee examination ; and a fourth, content with a more moderate use of the little member. The Sacristan himself scolds every one who disagrees with him, and crushes them with the weight of his experience and his years,—" seventy-nine last Pentecost." The land steward's lady, the Hochwohlgeborene Frau von Groll, storms at her husband and lawyer, and bears them down with the greatness of her descent, " geborene Dornberg," with which she snubs all others who have the honour of her acquaint- ance; and the farmer's wife, Hanne, a jealous virago, routs the spirit of peace and love from the snug barn-farm, notwithstanding the purity of its cleanliness and the prodigal wealth of its store- houses, with the parade of her sense and energy. " I not under- stand? If I don't understand, things are in a bad way with us, for it's little other understanding than my own that's to be found under the roof."
There are little clumainesses both of construction and composi- tion that should have been polished away ; the incident of the war, as we have said, gives the impression of not properly belonging to the story; again, the cause suggested for Frau Lehmann's journey to Detmold, and interview with a lawyer is childishly insufficient. The interview was necessary for the development of the story, but should have been brought about with more attention to probabi- lities. In smaller matters, the expression, " some rustic festival was ' toward,' " instead of ' approaching,' is affected, and the farmer's wife speaks to her husband of " Claus your waggoner," —the explanation of who Claus is being evidently meant for the reader, and not for the farmer. Such trifles give an impression of unreality, and the same may be said of the numerous instances in which exclamations are made in German and translated into English by the speaker in the same breath. And then, as to the title ; the Sacristan's household consisted only of an old serving- woman during almost the whole period occupied by the story. This is scarcely one's idea of a household, even if she had been the most, instead of the least important character ;—a title should at least suggest the subject or object of the story.
On the whole, however, the book is agreeable and clever, though we cannot cannot call it interesting. We will conclude by quoting perhaps the pleasantest bits in it ; they are two which touch on the quaint sources of comfort which simple people can find for their troubles ; surely they are drawn from the life and by a loving observer, with a keen sense of the mingled humour and pathos they display. The Sacristan's servant left a neighbour to administer comfort in the shape of contradiction to her dispirited old master.
" The Sacristan clung to his old notions with loyal tenacity ; and it was observable that Herr Peters, formerly so argumentative in his mild way on the subject of politics, would now endure to hear the Sacristan put forth the most retrograde and anti-liberal doctrines without uttering a word of protest. At least he did so until old Sophie, cunning-simple in her love for her old master, said to him one day, Ach bitte, Herr Peters ! do ye now contradict the Herr Blister now and then ? He's been used to get the better of folks in argument all his days, has the Herr Buster; and how can he do it if nobody won't argue against him? And I'm sure he needs something to raise his spirits, and us all in such trouble with not knowing what has become of our poor dear boy in all their murdering battles !' And poor faithful Sophie put her apron to her eyes. After which hint the kindly Herr Peters made a point of ' being got the better of in argument' by his old friend."
In another place, poor Farmer Lehmann, after one of his wife's outbreaks, takes Otto into the farm-yard.
"Lehmann gazed down pensively into the sty. ' Ah, thrive they do, most amazingly!' said he, softly. • Nice creatures, ain't they ?'—' Well, yes ; I suppose they are, of their kind. But I have no particular fancy for them. They're greedy, dirty, lazy beasts, I always think.'—' Ah I there's a deal of comfort in pigs, though ; so easy-going ; do each credit to their keep ; never want scrubbing, or scouring, or grooming. Give'em their bellies full, and there ain't peacefaller, comfortabler creatures in the world. You're too young to understand it yet awhile, Otto. But some time or other,—when you're married and settled„—and when ' added the farmer, with a movement of the corners of his month which began as though it meant to be a smile, but stopped short of it—' when it's washing-day, you'll understand the comfort there is in pigs.' Otto laughed. Then his face grew grave again. ' When I'm married, farmer Lehmann?' he exclaimed, with a little sigh.—'Yes, to be sure. You will be married some day, Most folks are. The Lord only knows why the half of them do marry.'"
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