HERBERT LAKE. * Teas fiction is not strictly a novel of

manners and society, though its elements are drawn from modern life. The story wants vraisemblance; but all that constitute the story—characters, incidents, ideas, and the_ circumstances that surround them—are those of our own day,-and indeed could not be found in any other. This peculiarity probably arises from the fact that the writer, though acquainted with life, is yet not familiar with the particu- lar class of life selected for the leading purpose of the story. Herbert Lake is the son of a farmer residing in the neighbour- hood of Wyvill's Court. The owner of the Court, Mr. WyvW, is a respectable and excellent man ; reserved by nature, and actuated by strong oldfashioned ideas on the questions of birth, family, author- ity, and gradation of rank. In these feelings of Mr. Wyvill the whole story originates and is carried on. Herbert Lake is designed for the church, is assisted by Mr. Hill the Vicar, and patronized by Mr. Wyvill ; but as the time draws nigh, his conscience prevents him from taking orders. He quits his friends, with something like their displeasure, to seek his fortune in London as a literary adventurer and law student. And he quits them soured and indig- nant. He has secretly loved Kate Wyvill; in a moment of excite- ment he allows his secret to be seen. Kate, though not altogether indifferent to the original-minded, intellectual scholar, has been too thoroughly trained by her father in his own ideas, and knows too well his determination on such a matter, to allow her to encourage his love. From principle rather than pride she checks it, in a manner that the sensitive Herbert construes into contempt. • In London, Herbert meets his old friend Richard Wyvill, a young man of poetical genius and refined mind, but wanting in strength of character. He has offended his father not only by an inferior but a clandestine marriage, and on Herbert Lake's arrival in London is hardly maintaining his wife and children by his pen. Richard introduces Herbert to literary society ; and their strug- gles, Herbert's eventual success, with Alice Wyvill, Kate's eldest sister's mariage de convenance, and its consequences, form the

sequence of the tale.

The work is distinguished by quiet elegance of style and dis- tinctness of perception. The characters are well conceived, and consistently sustained with marked intellectual traits, though many are deficient in the nature and reality that characterized some of the Scottish persons of Anne Dysart. A high religious and moral tone pervades the book, without any approach to the extreme or impracticable. There is sufficient power to sustain scenes of emotion or passion, sufficient knowledge of life to depiet the society introduced. The writer excels in description, but pushes it too far. Landscapes or interiors should never be ela- borated unless for some purpose in connexion with the story, of whose atmosphere they should always partake. The writer ad- heres to the last rule, but not to the first. Probably the drawing of characters on their first introduction is too regularly followed as a sort of recipe ; and they are also too elaborated, though very

well done. Here is an example of Alice Wyvill.

" With Alice her father had even less sympathy than with Richard. He was proud of her, however,—proud of her beauty and her aristocratic bear-. • The History of Herbert Lake. By the Author of "Anne Dysart," &e. la three volumes. Published by Hurst and Blackest. mg, proud of the admiration her attractions, personal and mental, every- where excited. Fortunate it was he had no idea of the strange, restless, unsettled nature of her feelings, opinions, and principles. But these, as well as her studies, she sedulously concealed from 'him ; and, combined with her unsettled principles, this habit had strengthened in her a want of regard for truth which seemed inherent in her disposition. Alice had a brilliant intellect rather than a solid one. Her mind was not earnest or sincere enough to belong to a high class ; but it was quick and showy, and could appreciate the superficial bearing of most things, though the deeper meanings of nature and genius lay far beyond her ken. Her character had one fearful want—she neither loved fervently, nor believed ear- nestly in anything. The natural consequence of this was, her life being without an interest to satisfy the craving of her lively faculties, she was consumed by ennui, unless a constant stimulus was supplied from without. To Alice, nothing was real. Life to her was literally a stage, and she was only amused when she was acting a part thereon. Sometimes she acted to herself the lady-philosopher, sometimes the lovelorn damsel ; but all things wearied her in turn, for she gave her heart to no- thing, and though the imagination may for a time? it cannot continue to supply the place of a heart. She was proud, ambitions, and vain of admi- ration and applause; yet all the applause and admiration she obtained could never satisfy her. There was ever a vacuum in her soul. "Novella tells us that 'character and destiny are but two names for the same idea.' I believe there is much truth in the observation ; and in the story of the Wyvills of Wyvill's Court, and that of a few other individuals, whose history is necessarily interwoven with theirs, I shall have an oppor- tunity on a small scale of partly exhibiting its correctness."

The following interview between Kate and her father, when Richard has announced his marriage, may be taken as a specimen of the writer's power in dramatic parts.

"The letter-bag at Wyvill's Court arrived in the morning generally at breakfast-time, but sometimes before. Kate now watched anxiously for a letter from Richard, but for two mornings in vain. On the third, when she had hardly finished dressing, one of the female servants knocked at the door of her room, to tell her that Mr. Wyvill wished to see her immediately in the library. Anxious and alarmed, yet reproaching herself for her un- Wonted nervousness, she quickly completed her toilet, and hastened to her father. • • • "When Kate entered the room, her father was seated at one end of the writing-table, in an erect posture, his arms folded on his chest, and his still handsome features set firmly, as if in command of some strong passion. An open letter lay on the table before him. As his daughter advanced, a stern inquiring glance shot momentarily from his expressive dark eyes. Be seated, Katherine,' he said, motioning her to a chair at a little dis- tance.

"Pale and trembling, Kate obeyed at once. She perceived at a glance that her father was an —a rare thing with him; and she knew that at such moments he would brook neither opposition nor trifling. But her own conscience was void of offence, and she knew that her father, even in the teat of his most fiery wrath, never confounded the innocent with the guilty. • far, then, as she was herself concerned, she was easy ; but she trembled dor Richard. She felt a strong presentiment that all was not right with him. "Her father's first words showed her that her wajecture was not mis- hiken. Katherine,' he said, in a sterner and harsher. tone than he had ever in his life employed when addressing her, '"you told me the other even- ing that you were out of spirits on account of your brother's leaving home. Did you know Richard's errand to London ? ' "As he finished speaking, he fixed his eye steadily .upon her face. Ter- rified by the severity of his glance, and the increased rigidity of his attitude and features, she could not answer immediately.

" ' Speak the truth,' he said, with commanding sternness, misconstruing the cause of her hesitation.

"Instantly recovering herself, Kate drew herself up, and even though it WAS in the presence of her father, whom she dreaded as well as loved, the Wyvill pride shone in her eyes and spoke in her tone, as she answered,

" I would not tell a falsehood for the love or for the dread of any human being.' " As Kate spoke, the dark and ireful countenance relaxed a shade of its severity. " ' Answer my question!' he said in a hoarser, less firm voice. " No, papa. I knew nothing of Richard's errand to London. Even at this moment I cannot guess it. It was something in his manner only which made me uneasy.'

" Mr. Wyvill drew a long, hard breath. He seemed to try to preserve his composure, but it would not do. His features relaxed, the veins of his forehead swelled with emotion. Leaning on the table, he buried his face in his hands, and exclaimed, with passionate sobs= Thank God! thank God ! ,my Child has neither disgraced nor deceived me! '

" Kate threw herself down on her knees by his side.

" Papa! 'she said, with solemn fervour, 'I here promise before God in beavent never in anything to disobey or deceive you. I promise to be guided is all things by your wisdom and affection. Dearest papa, let me comfort you.'

" And the pride of Henry Wyvill gave way before the earnest affection of his young daughter. He opened his arms, and as he folded her passionately to his heart, one or two scalding drops fell on her cheek. Since the death of his wife, Mr. Wyvill bad not permitted himself a moment of such sym- Why. Shortly recovering himself, he said, in a voice the softness of whose blended sorrow and affection contrasted strangely with its former sternness, " Pardon me, my good and kind child, for having for an instant sus- pected you of deceit : but read that letter, and you willfind an excuse for me.'

The letter, as the reader has already guessed, was from Richard, written s few hours after his marriage. It expressed sorrow for causing distress to his father, but defended the step the writer had taken, as—knowing his father's feelings and opinions—the only wise and honourable one left to him. "'Sate,' said Mr. Wyvill, when she had finished reading, am grieved that your brother has disgraced himself and his family by a low marriage. I am hurt deeply by his disobedience ; but I am more than all wounded and pained by the manner in which he has disappointed my affection and de- ceived my trust. He has himself broken every tie which ought to unite father and son. Let him abide by his own choice; let him cleave to the friends whom he has chosen, in preference to those of his own household. Kate, you have promised to obey .me in all things ; and the first proof of this your duty, that I shall require, is, that you hold no communication with Richard Wyvill. All I ask is your simple promise. That given, I trust you implicitly.'

" Oh, papa !' cried Kate, whose true instincts now told her that her hither was not right, do not, I beseech you, insist on this proof of my obe- dience. If I give you my promise, I will not break it ; but oh, papa, dearest papa, for my sake—for the sake of my mother, and his—' "Mr. Wyvill was shaken ; but, once more concealing his emotion under the cold sternness of manner with which he had commenced the interview, he answered, do not bind you, then, by any promise ; but remember, his name is never to be mentioned between us again. I have already spoken to your aunt and sister, and, I am happy to inform you, they both view the matter in a proper light. Let us go down to breakfast." "

The present novel appears as different from its precursor Anne Dysart as London differs from a provincial city, or the persons of a small Scotch town differ from those of a village in the South- western• parts of England, with its aristocratic landlord, neigh- bouring squires, learned and amiable vicar, substantial farmer, and other inhabitants. Still, one of the elements on which the writer mainly relies for interest is essentially the same—that of genteel pecuniary distress, carried through various phases and pushed to an extreme. There is a further resemblance in the awkwardness shown in extricating the hero from the dilemma with his two loves, as well as in the imperfect moral of the story compared with the writer's apparent aim. In Herbert Lake all this is not felt as repetition ; by many it will not be noticed; but the writer would do well to guard against the tendency.