NEW NOVELS. * THE title page of Night and Day indicates

that it is an original novel, but the book itself has very much the air of a free transla-

tion from the French. The subject is French, the turn of the diction is, in many cases, unmistakably French, and the whole tone and spirit of the story are such as mark the

productions of a certain class of French novelists, whom few English writers would be inclined to accept as models. Why the story should be called Night and Day we cannot imagine, unless it be because one of Sir Bulwer Lytton's novels is entitled .2V-tyke and Morning ; but that title had a symbolic meaning obvious enough to all readers, whilst the other is significant of nothing that is to be found in the pages to which it is prefixed. One half of Mr. Savile's title is superfluous, nay deceptive, for, typically speaking, there is not a ray of daylight in his three volumes, but all is black as Erebus and night with unmixed, unmitigated villany. The scene opens at Martinique with the arrival of the intended. son-in-law of a wealthy planter, who comesjust in time to witness the elopement of his destined. bride with a supposed naval officer in the French service, who is no other than the diabolical pirate, Gaspard Duval. This utter ruffian has an encounter with his unfor- tunate rival, in which he behaves in the most polite and chivalric manner, tres en gentilhomme, as Dumas would say, and inflicts on his antagonist a disabling but not mortal wound, though it was his daily business to murder men with as little compunction as he would swallow oysters. Coraline de Tournon, the amiable young lady who shares the fortunes of the pirate, does not become aware of his real character until after a seafight in which a whole ship's crew is butchered to the last man ; but when the whole truth is known to her, she accommodates herself to her situation with admirable facility, although the pirate's princi- pal victim, who expires almost under her own eyes, is the Count de al, an intimate friend of her beloved father's. After this victory, Duval gives up his ship, assumes the name of the murdered Count, of whose papers he has possessed himself, and proceeds with three of his crew to Paris, where he becomes a courtier and a coiner. With the profits of his new trade, and the money supplied from his estates at Martinique, he makes such good way that he be- comes Lieutenant-General of Police, obtains the hand of a duke's daughter, and finally is himself made a duke. But all this good fortune is not achieved without narrow escapes from great risks. The Count's coining gang is denounced to himself as head of the police, whereupon he proceeds to see the informer hang by his comrades. Coralino's father and rejected lover arrive in Paris, and the latter even has an interview with the Lieutenant-General of Police, but both of them are made safe by means of a lettre de cachet. Then Coraline gets " obstre- perous' ' but she is clapped up in a madhouse. Lastly, the pre- tended Count de St. Real receives a letter informing him that the dear friend and cousin of the dead Count is about to land in France. This is the most awkward contretemps of all, but Gas- pard gets over it very easily by sending one of his three bravoes— the one who was most of a gentleman—to meet his cousin, and murder him, which he does in a very business-like manner. After this, the three bravoes find themselves down upon their luck, which would be unfortunate for the reader, as they are the funny men of the piece, if it were not that the lucks, Lieutenant of Police is there to favour their escape from the galleys, and enable them to find their way into the Turkish service, where they all rise to the rank of pashas. Gaspard Duval himself does not end quite so happily ; but his death, compared with his deserts and his reasonable expectations, is after all a euthanasia. Coraline, who has escaped from her madhouse, comes to him in the disguise of a young sailor, allures him out to sea in a boat, with a promise of discovering to him a pirate's treasure, pulls off her disguise, and pulls out a plank from the bottom of the boat at the same moment, bids the deceiver go—somewhere • and he goes. She herself is picked up by her old lover, who kindly • Night and Day. A Novel. By. the Hon. Charles Stuart 8avile. In three volumes. Published by Hurst and lildokett. Capt tin Brand, of the" Centipede ;" a Pirate of Eminence in the West Indies: ni Loves and Exploits, together with some account of the singular manner by which he departed this life. By Lieut. H. A. Wise, t.S.N. (Harry Gringo ) Author of" Los Gringos," and " Tales for the Marines." Published by Trabner, and Co.

• Over the Cliffs. By Charlotte Chanter, Author of " Ferny Comber." In two volumes. Volume I. Published by Smith, Elder, and Co.

proposes to forget everything unpleasant in the past, and to begi with her again from the point at which their intercourse had been interrupted; but she declines the offer, devotes herself to a life of piety and beneficence, and dies in the odour of sanctity.

The novel of which we have sketched the outline is even worse in tendency than Jack Sheppard, and should circulate chiefly in

the rogues quarters of London; for though written or edited by

a gentleman, and dedicated to a prince, it happens, by some strange mischance, to be composed very much from the rogues'

point of view. Of a totally different stamp is Lieutenant Wise's

tale of Captain Brand, of the " Centipede." This is a pirate story of the good old kind, in which the diabolical wickedness of the

pirates is portrayed as forcibly as any decent reader could desire, whilst it is never for a moment doubtful that the author's sym- pathies are all with the honest people. Perhaps there is a little too much of the old stage properties about the make up of Captain Brand ; but if it be requisite in fiction, as custom seems to indi- cate, that a leader of pirates should be a man of courtly b remarkably handsome, and a. fop, we must not quarrel Lieutenant Wise for his compliance with the established usage. He has given us a fine stirring nautical story, founded, as it has been stated with great apparent probability, upon genuine his- torical records, and full of varied and vehement excitement. The incidents are numerous, and. described with great animation, whilst the plot which sustains them all is simple enough, and un encumberecl with episodes. The remaining novel on our list, though the work of a lady, is still redolent of tar and seawater. Over the Cliffs has its scene chiefly on a part of the coast of Devonshire, remote from large towns and inland traffic. The time is about fifty years ago, when smuggling flourished, and there was scarcely a family in the dis- trict, whatever its grade, but was more or less implicated in that demoralizing and mischiefworkinis trade. Evidences of its ruin- ous effects are to be seen to this day in many a decayed mansion which disfigures scenes of great natural beauty, such as the au- thor (née Kingsley) depicts with no small share of the graphic power which distinguishes her two brothers. Reginald and Gra- tiana Dawson, and the young lady's foster brother, over whose parentage there hangs a mystery, are the principal personages of the story. The two former are worse than orphans, for their father, a well born and wealthy landed proprietor, is a man of morose and savage temper maddened by habitual drunkenness, who has killed his wife in one of his furious fits, brutally ill uses his children, and otherwise wholly neglects them. Grace is about fifteen when, for the first time in her life, she goes to a party at a neighbour's, and there her pride is roused the scorn she incurs for her want of all ladylike accomplishments. She steals out from the drawing room ; bent on proving her superiority over her tormentors.

" 'I'll show these young ladies I can do something,' she muttered to herself, as she opened the stable-door.

" It was a fine stable : seven stalls, each with its occupant, well-groomed and well-fed ; not over-clothed but carefully attended to, and well-worked. The stable was deserted, for the men were feasting on the remains of the dinner ; so Tye was free to do what seemed good to her little ladyship. She

began a systematic inspection. You won't do,' she said to the horse in the

first stall. I don't like a chestnut : not in temper, fidgety about the mouth. Nor you,' to a fine black horse, who kept striking one of his bind-feet im- patiently against the ground ; you are either sluggish or over-fiery, you blacks : I suspect you are the latter. Light bay, four white legs not my sort ; besides, your head is tied up, that looks as if you were a crib-biter ; you wont do.' And Gratiana went from stall to stall, till she stopped sud-

denly, and exclaimed—' Oh, you beauty, you are the one for me. Tye's

choice showed she was a judge of horse-flesh; the animal that called forth her admiration was of a dark brown colour, with tan legs and a tan muzzle. He was a beautifully formed creature, with a small, well-shaped head, showing his African blood by his broad nez retrouss4 ; which, however ugly in a woman, is a great beauty in a horse. His legs were clean and muscular, and his coat remarkably short, fine, and silky. " Are you gentle, you beauty ?' said Tye, as with a handful of oats she approached the horse. The horse sniffed what was coming, and turned towards the side of his stall to make way for her, whinnying, and almost speaking to her. You are a darling,' said the girl, as she held her hand to the horse, who carefully picked the corn from her outstretched palm, only touching it with his lips. " Tye retreated cautiously, caressing the horse as she did so.

" In the nest stall stood a fiery-looking roan, who made room for Tye just as the brown had done but she was too wise to venture near him, for she

saw how his eye turned round in his head, and how he kept pawing the ground. As she turned away, he leaned all his weight on the halter, as if to break it, and finding his efforts unavailing, he launched forth viciously with his heels.

" Nov, Miss Tye, what are you going to do next ? Why, the fact is, the young lady is bent on a ride, and intends saddling her steed herself ; which she accordingly does, selecting from the saddle-room the saddle she deems most fit. It is astonishing how quickly and well she throws the sad- dle on the horse's back; he is fourteen hands high, but Tye has grown a tall girl of' her age. How knowingly she cries, Quiet, there! quiet, I say,' as as the brown turns his little head, and makes believe he intends to bite her for girthing him up so tight. Then she chooses a bridle, a pretty sharp one, and loosening the halter, calls on the horse to turn round, which he does in a moment.

" Now comes the mounting ; she leads him to the block outside the door, and in a minute she is in the saddle, with no habit but the despised white gown, and no covering on her head but her rich brown hair. " Now, be a good horse, and do what I tell you : let us show the young ladies we can do something.'

" Tye guided her steed into a field at the back of the house, where she had noticed a leaping-bars but the moment the horse felt turf beneath his feet, he became restive. Tye kept a firm hand, and prevented his breaking into a canter. In a few inoments, he seemed to become more accustomed to ,his rider, and comparatively quiet. The girl now put him into a canter and took him twice round the field, then put him at the leaping-bar. Theme went over it in first.rate style. " ' You'll do,' said Tye ; but my petticoats won't : I must go and find, a train.'

" She returned into the stable-yard, where she found their own servant lounging on the horse-block. " Good gracious, Miss Tye, is that yolk? what in the name of all that is wonderful are you about ? ' " Never mind, Will : quick, give me a horsecloth, or cloak, or some- thing.' " The man obeyed, and she was decked in a horsecloth train. " Now Will, open the gate into that park paddock—quick ! ' " The man did her bidding. Bless the girl, if she aren't mad some- times : what on earth is she going to do now ? '

" The horse was fresh, and galloped pretty briskly along the bottom of the meadow ; which, as the ground sloped, could not be seen from the lower windows. Tye kept him in hand well, knowing that if she once allowed him to go his full pace, she would not be able to rein him in again. Now she turns up the slope to the house, between her and which is a fence. She gallops, keeping her horse well in, and nears the fence. The ladies in the drawing-room catch sight of her and scream. The fence is higher than the leaping-bar, but she clears it splendidly; on she comes, close past the window, startling the gentlemen at their wine and frightening the ladies into fits. Now she makes a sweep, she is over the fence again, and making the circuit of the field. Once more she nears the fence, and once more she is over; but her horse's hoofs just touching the upper bar, warn her to de- sist, and she draws rein at the hall-door. Men and women are there to meet her.

" Bravo, Miss Tye!' cry the men with one voice, and many a hand, old and young, is stretched out to help her from her seat. " You said I could do nothing, said Tye, turning to the women. Can you ride like that ? ' " This well-drawn scene is a fair specimen of Mrs. Chanter's skill in dramatic effect. Her weakness is most seen in the matter of construction. Her story is not well knit together ; it runs in too many parallel lines, which subdivide the interest into sepa- rate channels, instead ollettino- it flow on in one concentrated stream to the end. Besides this, she labours, in common with the ma- jority of lady novelists, under an imperfect knowledge of mundane affairs, such as criminal procedure, the nature of evidence, &c., which sometimes betray her into mistakes that greatly detract from the probability of her story. Notwithstanding these draw- backs, Over the Cliffs is a novel of considerable merit, and one that leads us to expect still better things from its author.