NORMAN'S BRIDGE, OR THE MODERN MIDAS.

The Admiral's Daughter, in "The Two Old Men's Tales," first intro- duced this writer to public celebrity, and has never been surpassed by her in fiction. After various efforts, in which the historical was often called upon to support the metaphysical, she has returned in Norman's Bridge to her first mode of composition, and that which is best adapted to her genius ; but without perhaps excelling her first effort. More of maturity, and of that mastery of materials which long practice alone can give, may be visible in the work before us, and the subject is more gene- ral and less morally unpleasant than that of The Admiral's Daughter: but the first work had a deeper interest, a closer and more compact story, and was shorter—a tale rather than a three-volumed novel; which in the metaphysical school, where exposition supersedes narrative, is aft advantage. The object of Norman's Bridge is to point the moral of acquisition— not the mere anxiety to acquire riches, still less the active enterprise of a fair-dealing trader, but that love of wealth which supersedes every other feeling, and induces a man to make money the secret idol of his milt without any other god whatever. Whether such a character be amenable to ethical teaching, or likely to profit by example, may be questioned ; it is a further question whether the moral is pointed in the best way in Norman's Bridge ; but there is no question that it is a work of great power and great skill. The deeper interest and events con- nected with the latter portion of the story cannot be received as a picture of life ; but they are coherent with the author's tale, and described with great effect, albeit the art is rather too visible. Some episodical scenes are equally effective, and more philosophically true • but the great strength of the writer lies in a minute exhibition of charac- ter, where the particular qualities of an individual and the aggregate they form are delineated with the exactness of an anatomical demon- stration, while events, slight it may be in themselves, acquire interest from their operation upon the mind of the persons. Considered in this point of view, and without regard to the mere novel-reading effect, Norman's Bridge surpasses anything this writer, or perhaps any other writer, has done, if we except Godwin's chef-d'oeuvre.

The character selected by the author to illustrate her ethics is Michael Grant, originally a Highland shepherd. Partly by a family misfortune, but more through a natural bias, his mind is early directed to the power and advantages of wealth. Of a keen practical intellect, with all the perse- verance and endurance of his race, and undisturbed by the ruffling of any ether passion, for his early love runs smooth, the desire for money grows with the money's growth, till it overcomes if it does not destroy every human feeling save his regard for his wife. Quitting his native glen for a clerkship in a woolstapler's at the little English town of Norman's Bridge, Michael unconsciously loses his four favourite children by keep- ing them in a cheap house, when the Health of Towns Bill was sadly want- ing. At a later period, when advanced through shopkeeping to the dig- nity of banker, he is made out to be.the means, through his usurious pro- ceedings, of destroying Lord Strathnaer, an amiable and high-spirited nobleman, who had saved Michael's life when the mob threw him into the river for his speculations in corn during the scarcity of 1800-1801. The true moral here however, seems to be a warning against specula- tions in reclaiming land with borrowed capital ; for when, after several

snspenses to vary the interest, a pluenomenon of a gale overwhelms Lord Strathnaer's improvements, Mr. Grant is a heavy loser by his

loans though he realizes all his securities. His obduracy as a creditor, and the death of Lord Strathnaer, defeat a project of marrying his grand- daughter Joan to the Peer's son which is made one of the failures of wealth. But the book moral brea:ks down here too : it does not seem that the young Lord regarded Joan with any other than a brotherly affec- tion; the denouement interrupts the connexion of the families, but it dogs not appear to have prevented a marriage.

The first great excellence of a moral to warn against the undue indul- gence of any passion, is to make that undue indulgence itself a means by which success is defeated. The next is to show the wretchedness of the 'dramatis personte even when outwardly successful. In the first our au- thor fails altogether; in the second she is not happy. Michael Grant gra- dually loses the respect and then the sympathy of his wife; he is vexed

at his own unpopularity in the neighbourhood, and tormented by the death of Lord Strathnaer : but this is told to the reader rather than felt

by him. As there is nothing purse-proud or mean-spirited in Michael Grant, his resolute will, stern determination, and unmoved bearing, im- part to him something of moral dignity towards the close of his career. The meanness of common money-making is subdued by his disregard of show and his thorough mastery of himself : he is less like a miser than a man carrying out a painful duty.

Many of the other characters are interesting as sketches from life, or as metaphysical creations ; but Mary, Michael's wife, is by far the best. Her Highland simplicity, the thorough womanly affection with which she regards her husband, and her careful economy during their early life at Norman's Bridge, form a very truthful and sweet picture. The manner in which her affection is gradually overrun by sorrow, and her confidence shaken, is not described at so much length, but is indicated with as much truth; though Mary the wife is a much more delightful person than Mrs. Grant the grandmother. The aristocratical family and the incidents con- nected with it are the least real. As a delineation of character, and we think as a truthful picture of the actual, the early part of the book is the best : as a mere story, the latter part will interest the most, as being fuller of incidents.

The following scene of the rescue of Michael by Lord Strathnaer, when the population of Norman's Bridge had attacked his house, seized him, and hurried him off, may be taken as an example of this part of the book. The metaphysical painting requires continuous perusal, to be appretiated.

"The High Street led direct to the bridge. It was narrow; but the crowd streamed down it, forced Michael upon the bridge—upon the battlements. A loud, wild Mazza! Drown him! drown him I Throw him into the river to search for his musty corn! Fling him in as ye would fling a dog!' He is raised high in the air by the arms of two or three herculean, half-drunken draymen. Another load shout, and they hurl km' 2 in "At that moment a shriek, shrill and piercing, rang down the street. The very mob was struck by it. There was a moment's pause; a moment of com- punctions silence. The loud shriek of the agonizing wife, as she witnessed the spectacle from the top of the High Street, had found a way to every heart. He's gone, however,' said one or two' as they hung over the battlements of the bridge, and looked down into the water. , "They were all too much engaged to observe what next approached. "Suddenly there was another cry—' The soldiers ! the soldiers are upon us I ' "Through the bushes and osiers which clothed the opposite banks, the bright scarlet uniforms and glowing brass of the plumed helmets of a detachment of the County Fencibles were seen galloping down. They were headed by Lord Strath- naer, mounted upon a magnificent black horse. They approached the bridge. " There was a load, shrill cry of defiance from the crowd, and a shower of stones greeted Lord Strathnaer as he came on: but the men, their sabres drawn and carbines loaded, advanced steadily, with all the courage and proudly we may add, with all the humanity and forbearance, which distinguish the English sol-

dier upon those trying occasimui. •

"The mob, though insolent at first, showed as usual the white feather when Opposed to a regular well-disciplined force; as the soldiers, in close order, making their fine horses curvet and prance in what seemed a very formidable though a very harmless manner, and waving their sabres over their heads, rapidly bore down upon the bridge. "Curses and abuse were now exchanged for screams and shrieks of women and cries of men. There was a general rush towards the town; and the cavalry had only to gallop among the crowd with their managed horses, striking about with the flat of their sabres, and the populace, like a flock of sheep, fled in one mass to the opposite end of the bridge, and thence to the bank above. Here they turned, and confronted their adversaries.

"But not all the force of the crowd pouring down in an opposite direction could arrest the progress of the wife in the vehemence of her despairing agony, as, followed by her friend and her son, she rushed madly forwards. All her usual calmness and self-possession were exchanged for the wild energy of passion, as screaming out, Oh, save him ! save him ! arms stretched out, and hair streaming from her cap, she rushed like one distracted down the bank, and upon the bridge.

" Oh, save hirn ! save him! I see him ! I see him!'

" Who? what? where?' cried one never deaf to the voice of human misery— Lord Strathnaer; who checked his horse, struck with the wild accents and still wilder appearance of this agonized woman. " There ! there ! Oh,1 see him! I see him! He is struggling for life! For the love of Heaven,' flinging herself before Lord Stmtlinaer's- horse, save him! save my husband !'

Where ?—where?'

"'In the river! There—there !' was the general cry.

"The head of the unfortunate man was now seen just above the stream. Now it sinks—now it rises again—as he struggles for life; and the waters roll him forwards to the sea.

The river was deep and rapid; for the tide had just turned, and was run 'mug out like a mill-race to the ocean. Michael after the first plunge had risen to the surface; but though able to keep his head above water, was impossible for him to stem the force of the stream, which was rapidly bearing him onwards. There was not a moment to be lost. A few incoherent words were enough. Lord Strathnaer turned his horse's head, recrossed the bridge, forced the animal down the steep bank: a plunge—a man and horse are in the river stemming the deep and dangerous torrent. The fine black charger swam nobly. The light figure of Lord Strathnaer, in his scarlet uniform and bright helmet, was seen making way rapidly. towards that that small black object which was still visible above the water. He nears it rapidly; and the spectators from the bridge, breathless with anxiety, now see the head raised higher from the water; next, a hand and arm appear; then, a whole body is scrambling up against the horse' assisted by the rider. It rises—it falls again with a heavy plunge. The dread silence upon the bridge, the speechless agony with which this struggle for life was watched, is only vented in one stifled Ah followed by a faint shriek as he again falls into the water. "The noble horse plunges and strikes forward boldly with his feet. Once more the head, arm, and hand appear. Lord Strathnaer is seen stooping forward towards it.

"He'll drag him into the water! he'll drag him in!' is the cry of the excited spectators, who had now gathered together and watched the scene with the most intense interest; all their animosity against the corn-factor lost in sympathy with his generous preserver.

"Mary could not speak.: her eyes, straining from their sockets, were fixed upon spot. She saw that figure leaning forward—seizing the outstretched in its saddle.

" He is gone ! He is gone ! He is gone was the cry.

"But no—he rises again—his horse, it is evident, has found a momentary foot- ing upon one of the numerous sand-banks in the river. The resistance thus afforded steadies the rider. He pulls—he strains—and see see ! a second figure rises again dripping from the water, with one desperate effort scrambles upon the back of the animal, and is seated safely behind the brave and generous rider. "A loud shout of exaltation rang from the bridge and shores, as Mary, closing her eyes, sank back into the arms of her son.

"Bat all is not yet safe. She recovers herself in an instant; and again stretch- ing over the battlements, strains her eyes towards him.

The river is running rapidly; and the noble black charger, who has again lost his footing, vacillates, shudders, and yields a little to the stream. With spur and voice the brave young soldier urges and forces him forward. Dire was the contest. Now the stream rolls him forward; now he struggles; now he swims, and approaches the bank. " He is near the shore! he is ne,ar the shore!' bursts from the multitude of voices. 'Oh, brave horse. Oh, oh! brave rider. Noble young man! Aim, ah! he's gone—he's gone. No, no "One more desperate effort—he reaches the bank. His rider urges him forward with spur and voice. One desperate strain and struggle up the precipitous side,— they are safe; and poor black Paladin falls down, dying beneath them."