TIIE rninuT.

THE distinguishing characteristic of the writings of this author is, a story of the first-class circulating-library description, combined with a high degree of literary merit. The novelist plans a fable with a considerable regard to its coherence ; conceives her cha- racters clearly and cleverly, in the main preserving their consis- tency throughout ; and the expression, as well as the senthnents the expression clothes, or in other words the composition, is of a careful and very respectable kind. But with all this, her works are not what the best novels should be—a true reflection of life, but not what the best novels should be—a true reflection of life, but

merely what GRAY seems to have considered the ideal of prose fic- tion, pleasant reading to pass time. It is true, her stories are all

possible enough ; some may think them likely ; but neither her principal actors, nor the events which influence their conduct and their fhte, are such as general experience confirms : so that we infer

the writer's knowledge of life to be slender, and her materials derived originally from hooks or fancy, combined and perhaps hn- proved by meditation. This opinion, however, must he limited by its terms. There are many incidental scenes that seem to show a familiarity with country society of a respectable cast, but not aristocratical ; her lords (she usually has a lord) being, not per- haps more roguish than living lords, but more clever and melo- dramatic. There are also whole acts, as it were, of nature, which only experience, or very close observation, could have dictated. This author, too—which is curious in one who writes much— is an improving writer ; The Fright being the best of her works we have read. The title is derived from the heroine, a child whom the circumstances of its parents compelled to abandon to the tender mercies of relations, and who was nicknamed "the Fright," from the squalid appearance which neglect, depression, and fear gave to a plain countenance only redeemed by an eye that required to be lit up by feeling. This part is all natural enough, and reads like a transcript from actual life ; but, though essential to the story, it is scarcely an essential part of it. The motive power of the whole is Mr. Rolleston—one of a race who could only have existed many years since, when fiunily authority was an absolute despo- tism, and any opposition to the will of a relation, whether right or wrong, was made to justify perpetual alienation. But Mr. Rolleston lives in our own day with its accomplishments and its modes of thought; and he has not only fallen on an age too late, but he is too wonderful a persons—too obdurate ; too clever ; too passion- less, for his passions; and too unreasoning in his purposes, for the intellect with which the author has endowed him. Owing to a cause which is properly " explained" in the third volume, though it is scarcely satisfactory when done, Mr. Rolleston discards his nephew Trevillian, because he refuses to break off an engagement which has been contracted with his uncle's consent. The nephew being overtaken by a conglomeration of misfortunes that rarely happen all at once except in novels, departs for India, leaving his children behind. One of them, a beauty, is taken out of vanity by worldly relations, and turned into a coquette ; the other, " the Fright," is taken into the country by a good-natured man with an ill-tempered family, where she is tormented; till a friendly lady carries her to Italy, and returns her an accomplished and right-

minded young woman. Her great-uncle, for purposes of vengeance against his nephew, takes her home; and many scenes of interest ensue between suitors to the supposed heiress of Rolleston Park and relations who aim at a share in the property. But in the midst of fashion, luxury, mid flattery, further trials and vicissitudes are

in store for the heroine. As The Fright, however, is a story adapted to readers who do not like to be " told how it ends," we content ourselves with a reference to the volumes.

To persons who look at a novel only as an amusement for the passing hour, Mr. Rolleston and the scenes with which he us connected will be the most attractive part ; for be, no doubt, is what the players call a " telling " character, and there are many

effective situations either with him or through him. It is possible too, that such parts may please those who perceive that they are somewhat stilted, even more than the truthful passages which re- flect nature. Of this latter kind are many incidental touches, and bits of dialogue, as well as sketches of character. The most sus- tained and touching of the whole, however, is the picture of Grace Trevellian's martyrdom under Mrs. Bradley, the Miss and Master Bradleys, and Aliss Heywood the formal governess. The pic- ture of the plain neglected child, called stupid, and made to seem so, shrinking into solitude, pining over her affection for her parents and her sister, and clinging to her dog as the only present thing she can love, is a very truthful picture. The character of her sister Julia, fed with admiration till it becomes necessary to her existence—a good disposition spoiled by injudicious manage- ment—with a reason conscious of the right, yet a sickly weakness which pursues the wrong—is also well conceived, and followed out to its natural results.

Of the drawn, not developed characters, perhaps Mr. and Mrs. Bradley are the best. Here they are.

A SHOW-WOMAN.

" SO, my dear, you are come at last !" began Mrs. Briulley, who was always most porticular to say my dear, and use her blandest tones, when most out of humour, having ever ',crime her the lessons of her youth, that it ivas uot ladylike to speak loud (0. a)peor in a passion. She was One of that very numerous class of persons who strain at a gnat and swallow a camel." An act un- fitting a lady srould have shocked her—a feeling unfitting a Christian was as a mote in her eye, unperceived, unfelt ; or if felt or perceived, unheeded as long tis it attracted not the notice of others. The approval and disapproval of her own conscience wss nothing to her ; she lived only in the opinion of the pub- lk : a polished :selfishness was her distinguishing characteristic, though that polish was not always as perfect as she desired, owing to a naturally had taste and worse temper. Not without natural affections, her duties as a mother were better perthrmed (hall thOSe of any other relation of life ; hot even here was diseernible the vanity of one who sought the applause of the multitude more than the happiness of the object of her regard. These are show .houses, that, despite their splendour, convey no idea of comfort or happiness, but strike a chill to the observer ; Mrs. Bradley was a show-woman.

A GOOD-NATURED MAN.

Mr. Bradley was not an undecided, but, except in his favourite pursuit of agriculture, he was an indolent man ; and to this indolence AV:LS his wife timidly indebted for maintaining her rule. Ile did not like many thbigs which she proposed and executed; Ina it was less trouble to yield than to contend ; so that unless mused to determined opposition by her irritating Joanne; or some generous purpose, he allowed her to order and counter-order pretty much as she pleased. " When master's hack is up, 1,t Min have it all his own way ; it won't last long; and you can have it all your own to-morrow," was the remark of the bailiff who hail been long in his service ; and the bailiff was right. Mr. Bradley objected to many of his wilC's worldly maxims, and yet he let her Impress them on the minds of his children, only occasionally expressing his dissent, instead of constantly and seriously endeavouring to counteract their influence. 1k had approved of the former governess, a most estimable woman, yet he allowed his lady to displace her on a frivolous pretence, though convinced that her only fault was not being sufficiently submissive and coin- phmenttay. He had a mean opinion of the present governess, and yet he per- mitted her to remain with his children, though noire titan suspecting that she was a pompous fool and subservient flatterer : he knew that their yearly ex- penses, owing to his lady's taste for show and company, even now, when the education of his thildrell was at its lowest rate, exceeded their yearly income; yet he permitted his %% We to accept and issue invitations, order furniture and improvetent3 at her !;ood or evil pleasure : he saw that Grace had incurred the enmity of his lady, and was not therefore likely to be in favour with Miss Heywood and her pupils, yet after the first he intethred no further to insure her comfort, contenting himself with a kind greeting when they met.

CHILDISH DESOLATION.

Grace quitted the apartment without a word, and walked to her little room, not with the noiseless creeping step of fear, but with the slow heavy tread of a deep wo that had absorbed all dread. She had unconsciously indulged the hope that this long-promised visit of Rawdon's would bring some amelioration to her hard hit ; and now he had been there, and he was gone f—gone fin- years, and far away, and she was left to all her former wretchedness. II' ftawdon could not help her, there was none who could; and she must bear taunts and ill temper Its bane. And she did !war them month after month ; year after year, creeping away when she could whit Frolic into the library, where she was seldom disturbed, (the present generation of Bradleys not being it reading generation,) or if seen per- mitted to remain on condition of dusting the books. And here she sat poring over works above her age, taxing her mimi to its utmost powers to understand them; now sympathizing with the hero mid the patriot, her pale cheek glow- ing with enthusiasm; then drinking in with a thirsting spirit and a passionate love for the ideal the golden dreams of poets, their glorious visions, and their thrilling hopes ; or, if the season of the year allowed, she would seek out some surlily spot where she might bask beneath the light and warmth ; or, sporting with her fitvourite, twine wreaths of the ;meet wild flowers to hang around his neck. Thus passed the life of the oeglected chihl—her happiest moments when her very existence was forgotten hi all beside ; and she could sit apart the sense of her loneliuess and desolation lost in her sympathies with the hopes, the thoughts, the aspirations of the gloriims and the good; or that lonehoess peopled Is, inniginarion with those she loved—her desolation brightened by vision': of the future. The chain and Iseket never left her neck ; night and day it was !here, linking her as it seemed to the few who loved her. Iii. the rainhow hopes of the future, and in the touching and still more beau- tiful memories &the past, die strove to forget the gloomy present.

ovet`eATION FOR Tun sommowrere

Maltomet made happil less to consist in occupation ; and to a certain extent, all who have suffered, and entered closely into the cause of their suffering., will, I think, agree with him. The Arabiaii Euler knew much that was in the heart of man ; his laws and promises are in most instances aihnirably calcu- lated to promote the accomplishment of his views. how the followers of one 80 Cliergeti0 iiiMseirmul so strong an advocate for oecupation in others, eilltle to he proverbial for their general indolence is one of those curious anomalies Which require thought and time to explain. Epidemics seize on the feeblest frame—the gout attacks the weakest limb; and thoughts will revert to the most painful subject, and dwell upon it till mind and body sink beneath the torture. We may chain the limb—we may bridle the tongue ; but who shall stay the mutiny of thought ? Prayer and resolution and constant occupation are the only weapons which can be em- ployed with any hope of conquest ; but the heart must have been schooled by skilful teaching, or have suffered much, before it will admit this truth. When our spirits are still buoyant, though somewhat lowered—when our Lopes are still bright, though somewhat dimmed, we dwell on our woes and talk of the luxury of grief; but when sorrow upon sorrow has bowed our spirits to the earth, and all its buoyancy is gone—when time brightness of our hopes is all departed—when our tears have all been shed, and a wo has come upon us that DO weeping can assuage, then do we feel that grief is not a luxury, that memory is miot a joy ; and shrinking, with a maddening brain from thoughts of what has been, as the poor tortured wretch still writhing in his agony shrinks from a fresh infliction, we pray for power to endure; yet feeling all the anguish of endurance apply to occupation which may leave us little time to remember, if it gives its not a fresh pursuit on which to spend our energies, instead of wasting them in grief. With too little time allowed to thought, the mind be- comes inconsequent and frivolous ; but w itli too much it preys upon itself like ravening beasts, that will devour their kind if not supplied with proper food. Action and thought should go together; and humble fervent prayer guide each.