RUSSELL, A TALE OF THE REIGN OP CHARLES THE SECOND.

Mn. limns has got, in pugilistic phrase, "his second wind." We hardly know any work of this author in which fiction and history are so well amalgamated, the interest sustained without excitement or straining, and, what is perhaps of more consequence than anything, a readable attrac- tion is exhibited that pleasantly fixes the reader to the book. The characters, indeed, are not marked by much of novelty or individuality: they are for the most part old acquaintances—the usual joint stock per- sonages of the novelist, varied by the knowledge and genius of Mr. James, and clothed for the most part in garb appropriate to the period. The true sources of knowledge—the letters, the law proceedings, the pam- phlets, and fugitive literature of the age—have not been very thoroughly studied ; (how should they, by an author who writes or rather talks so much ?) but Mr. James is acquainted with its history, its more impor- tant literature, and its manners ; and if he makes his villains somewhat too abstract, and exhibits persons of our time in the costume and TO the phraseology of the seventeenth century, instead of depicting Its real feelings and opinions, why Scott himself did the same.

The choice of historical subject is timely, and its treatment very skil-

Moor rather happy. The Russell, who gave its historical character to the house of Bedford by "perishing on the scaffold," and his companion Sydney, are mingled with the action of the novel as the " dii ex machine." The Ryehouse plot, and Lord William Russell's trial and execution for his connexion with it, are introduced and managed with great truth, and, whether from the author's Tory predilections, or that "magna est veritas et prevalebit," with more of delicate accuracy than the Royal Historio- grapher probably intended. The high personal respectability, the domes- tic amiableness with a touch of sedateness, and the strict constitutional theories of Lord William Russell, are happily delineated without obtru- sion of any kind : but, "somehow, there is something somewhere want- ing" for the patriot and statesman of capacity. The Lord William of the novel, too like the Lord William of history, is ever halting between saying and doing. He talks treason in the abstract ; says and does enough to provoke power, yet shrinks from opposing it by combination or arms; he connects himself distantly with inferior and desperate peo- ple, not apparently unwilling to take advantage of their work, yet eschewing their boldness and shrinking from their companionship, but shilly-shally even on the verge of danger, and not distinctly repudiating that of which he disapproves. With all this, the reader's sympathy is not shaken : but perhaps that arises as much from the conduct of the oppressors as the character of the victim.

The treatment of the historical portion is equally skilful. The Rye- house plot, the arrest, trial, and execution of Lord William Russell, the character of his wife, and of some of his political associates, are exhibited distinctly, and with sufficient accuracy from the author's point of view; but nothing is done in too minute detail. It is the essence of history connected with romance. Of course the conspiracy with its sequences suspends the progress of the fiction ; and it may be critically objected, that the interest of the novel is pretty well over when Russell and Sydney appear upon the scene. Still, the fortunes of the persons are more or less connected with polities and politicians; and (which is the true test) the objection is not practically felt, and the book reads.

The story turns upon the family misery inflicted by means of the Popish plot, a few years earlier than the beginning of the romance. When Use tale opens, we have—a lover, supposed to be drowned in escaping from the charge of connexion with the plot; the estate of the Ellertons, a High Church family, transferred, through the same source of evil, to a Presbyterianly inclined relation, the Earl of Virepont ; and distress in- troduced into both families by personal quarrels and the separation of lovers. In addition, Gertrude Ellerton, the heroine, for some purposes not very obvious beyond the author's convenience, is living disguised as a peasant girl, exposed to the solicitations of a loose courtier, who does not know her, and to the persecution of the villain of the piece, who does, and who wishes to marry her, as there is a flaw in the forfeiture. During the latter part of the difficulty, Lord Russell acts as guardian angel : in the other stages an assumed conjuror takes that part; his arts also serve the purpose of the figure called vision, and present the past and indicate the future in a manner which spares the usual author's explanations.

It must not be inferred that Russell is entitled to take high rank as a novel. There is nothing new in the fiction, or in the view of the history : the merit lies in the lucky manner in which old materials are used up and the history and fiction connected together. The reader inclined to carp might object to scenes and speeches as too theatrical, and to several things as more convenient than natural. The offer of violence by the villain to the heroine was a favourite incident with the old playwrights, who by means of a dagger suddenly snatched, or some similar con- trivance, kept the ravisher at bay and the audience on the tenterhooks. This not very pleasing action has been used by Mr. James before : on the present occasion it brings Russell to the rescue. The villain Sir Frederick Beltingham by the old contrivance of father's illness and a forged letter, has lured Gertrude Ellerton to an obscure "public," and has at last persuaded her to sit down to table, when this scene opens.

"Poor Gertrude watched his proceedings with an eager eye; then cast a hasty glance over the table, and, stretching forth her hand while his back was turned, took up the large knife and concealed it beneath the cloth : at the same moment she thought she heard distant steps; and Bellingham turned the key in the door, saying, Now we shall not be interrupted.'

"'I beg you would not lock the door, Sir Frederick Beltingham,' said Gertrude, aloud: 'for that there can be no occasion, as your men without there keep me prisoner enough.' Bellingham made no answer but by a single smile; and, returning to the table, took his seat opposite. 'l is time, sweet Gertrude,' he said, gazing at her with a look of passion, that we should come to some conclusion. Will you go to your father? in other words, will you instantly give me your hand? I offer you mine: my heart you have had for years. Will you save your father's life? But say the word, and I send for the priest at once: are you mine?'

"'No, I am not, Sir Frederick-Bellingham,' answered Gertrude with a great effort. ' In the first place, I do not believe the tale you have told: one deceit makes me suspect another.'

" I swear by all I hold sacred ! ' cried Bellingham, vehemently. ' Have I not given you proof of what I told you ? Do you think that, once having seen and re- cognized him on these shores, I would ever lose sight of him again till you were mine? But these doubts are pretended, as an excuse to your own conscience for the sacrifice of your father. Now, I tell you, Gertrude Ellerton, that even if you dare to make that sacrifice—if you are resolved coldly to leave your parent to the fate that shall certainly overtake him—it shall not serve your purpose. You know me, Gertrude, and that I will keep my word. If you are not my wife, you shall be worse. I have offered you an honourable fate' and your father's life: do not you madly seek dishonour, and a parent's death. Girl, remember that you are in my power, as well as your father.'

"

'Not so much as you suppose, Sir,' answered Gertrude, with a dauntless look, for her spirit rose with indignation. 'You think me defenceless: I sin so no longer'; and she raised her hand, clasped tight round the handle of the sharp- pointed knife. Put it down on the table,' cried Bellingham, in a voice of thunder.

" will not,' answered Gertrude, firmly : it is here my only defence, my only friend. Do not deceive yourself either, Sir; for if you attempt to teach me, I will use it.'

" ' Yon shall see that!' cried Bellingham; and, darting round the table, he sprang upon her. Had Gertrude struck one blow, he was a dead man; for, as he ausitched forth his arms. toelasp her, his breast was left unguarded: buta me

ment of hesitation lost her the advantage: her heart failed—she could not strike; and the next instant both her wrists were caught in his strong grasp. But in terror and agitation she uttered shriek upon shriek, and she thought she heard steps running quick.

" Silence, silence he cried; I will not hurt you; I did but jest. Silence t put down the knife.'

"But Gertrude held it fast; and, encouraged by his evident alarm, shrieked for help again and again. " The next instant the door was shaken violently and burst open into the room; and two gentlemen rushed in with their swords drawn, followed by several sex. vents.

"Bellingham let go his hold, took a step back, and unsheathed his rapier; ex.. claiming, Back ! what seek you here? how dare you intrude?' "Gertrude sprang forward, and fell overpowered at the feet of William Lord Russell; while the gentleman at his side darted past her, and she heard the clashing of swords.

"Separate them, separate them !' cried Lord Russell, as she clasped his knees: but the next instant there was a groan, a heavy fall, and a dead silence.

"How often, when we gaze upon the magnificence of the summer storm, the brightness of the rapid lightning leaves the eye insensible for many minates after to any less vivid light; and often, in the same manner, the passing of a rapid and momentous event, which relieves us from some great peril, leaves us unconscious of all else for a time. The sense of deliverance was all that Gertrude felt for several minutes: she saw not who were those that had entered; she beheld not what passed at the other side of the room: she was delivered—that was enough. and her spirit was returning thanks to God, while the body, under the persisting influence of terror, was still at Lord Russell's feet, and the arms clasping his knees.

"You have killed him, I fear, Sydney,' were the first words she distinctly heard. Is he dead? '

"I neither know nor care,' answered Algernon Sydney, putting up his sword. 'I found him offering violence to a woman. He drew first, to maintain the wrong; and he has paid the penalty. It is that treacherous minion of the Court, Belling- ham. Did you not recognize him?'

"'Yes, yes; but who is this?' said Russell. 'Surely I know this beautiful face. Is it not Gertrude Ellerton? Dear lady, how came you here?' and he raised her tenderly from the ground. "By that base man's treacherous contrivances,' answered Gertrude, with in- dignant eagerness. 'He forged a letter, as if from my father, telling me he had returned to England, was sick, and required my immediate attendance—I have it here. He sent a carriage and a servant for me; and thus, having lured me hither, thought he had me altogether in his power. Oh, my Lord! I know you were my father's enemy; but yet I have always heard you are generous and noble: protect and help me, beseech you.' " Indeed, lady, you are quite mistaken,' replied Lord Russell; I am far from your father's enemy, and would in the time of peril have done aught I could to save him; for I know—I believed from my heart—that he was innocent; and I only sought to strike the guilty. But let me take this weapon from your hand, my poor young lady; and come away with me from this chamber. Sydney, let the man have help at all events. I will return in a moment:"

The novel-reader will desire an explanation, which Mr. James has not given. A goodnatured but easily-led young man, Lord Alcester, ha a se- duced a gentlewoman under promise of marriage, and letters amounting to the betrothment of the old law. The libertine young lord is deprived of title and fortune, and falls ill from anxiety and exertion. The lady in, the mean time has become possessed of property,_ and tends the .gay Lothario in his fever. But here we are left, and the curious reader will search for a denouement in vain. "Scared at the sound himself has made," Mr. James leaves it to be imagined or shaped at pleasure.