LITERARY SPECTATOR.

TALES OF MY TIME*.

To say that the author of these volumes is a person of talent, is ab- solutely to confound him or her in so large a mass of aspiring indivi- duals, as to convey but a small portion of our meaning. To how many, skilled in the art and practice of novel-writing, have we not attributed this praise—and, as we thought, and think, with justice ? The talent has been undoubtedly of a various character : some have excelled in the art of laughing at the ruling foibles of mankind ; some have had the power of painting national character; some have given us domestic life on paper, with the truth of WILKIE on canvass ; others, again, have reanimated. the pages of history, and, by .adding figures and putting in tints, have made the dull scenes of ancient chroniclers live over again in all the splendour of a yesterday's festival. In such and

* By the Author of Blue Stocking Hall. 3 vols. London; 1829.

many. other departments have the modern writers of romance been dis- tinguished : the list of clever writers of fiction is nearly past reckoning up: the auctores anonymi, whom we find critically despatched in a small volume of the scholastic times of learned Europe, now nearly out- number the more openly ambitious persons who print the " maker's name" on the very " head and front " of their " offending." It is necessary, therefore, to say something more distinctive of the works of a writer who has given us considerable pleasure. When we see " founded in fact " on titlepages or in advertisements, we turn aside with an incredulus odi. The foundation of this fasti- diousness is not so much incredulity, as the certain knowledge that fact and fiction will not mix up together in novels. Where matters of fact are selected for the subject, they generally consist of those strange and marvellous events, which, if they had not actually occurred, would not have been believed possible, and which are in fact utterly improbable. Truth may defy scepticism, but fiction must be probable. Moreover, when a tale of fiction has sprung wholly from the creator's brain, the parts adhere ; the grain is the same throughout ; and though the fabrication may not be superexcellent, is uniform and consistent. When, on the contrary, some particular facts, forming in truth a ro- mance of real life, are combined with parts made to fit and match with them, spun out of the author's brain, it is rarely that a fabric is formed which hangs together. We believe that this is the secret why many persons, erring in the choice of subject, and wishing to be more than probable by writing facts, make such egregious failures, con- trary to the expectation of men of judgment, who had been led to entertain more favourable expectations of their performance. It is certainly the reason why the author before us, or, as we suspect it should be, the authoress, has failed to complete a work as interesting as a whole as it is in parts. The volumes contain two tales, which, as they are said to be founded on fact, may be true : they are most un- doubtedly wildly improbable, and it certainly *not in the connexion of events or the management of incidents that We have found the plea- sure which the perusal of them has given us. Their excellence con- sists in detached portions, sketches of character, traits of manners, and scenes of popular interest : sometimes there occur observations which are worthy of record for their judgment and sagacity ; .the whole gives us pleasantly to understand that we are communing with a person who has both seen much and thought much, and from whose society something is to be gained. It is only to those detached portions, which have struck us as we went along, and called down the marginal imprimatur of the crities pencil, that we shall direct the attention of the reader.

The first tale is named " Who is she ? " It is the history of a Spanish orphan, who coming into the possession of a gang of gypsies, is sold by them to persons of fortune. Her woes wise out of the ignorance of her parentage : the question of " Who is she ? " cannot be satisfactorily answered. A marriage having been effected by the indefatigable Miss Ferret, between the relation of a poor baronet and a wealthy neighbour, the wedding-feast is celebrated at the mansion of the former. It is the amusing description of the empty space of this extensive mansion, and the efforts to furnish and adorn it, which follows.

" It has been hinted that Sir Roger Goodman's mansion wasiarger than his means of living in it. Space, indeed, was the first idea by which a stran- ger was struck on entering the doors; for the fact was, that besides the really capacious dimensions of each apartment, there was such a dearth of furniture, that the eye was not interrupted in its progress as it travelled over them. Four walls, handsomely pannelted with carved work of green and gold, enclosed an area, which was called the billiard-room, with no other apparent object than that of exciting attention, to remark that not a sign of table, mace, or ball, was to be seen. In like manner the place of a saloon was to be found with nothing in it, and a chapel without provision for prayers. The ' state' bed-chambers were reserved for such momentous purposes that they were never used at all, and therefore beds were superfluous ; so they had not any in them.

" From this outline it follows that the disposable forces of hospitality were confined at Colbrook within very straightened limits, notwithstanding the large size of the building ; and an entertainment in this mausoleum of ancient grandeur, like a poem which we remember to have seen somewhere or other, in imitation of Ossian, might very appropriately be yclept a ' feast of empty shells.' Miss Ferret, however, undertook the arrangements under the controlling direction of Lady Goodman, and began her operations with the encouraging cheer, ' Faint heart never won fair lady. We must put our best foot foremost' " To work she set, and what with rummaging out, scrubbing up, turning, twisting, nailing, scouring, dying, and borrowing, things were put in some sort of order, and accommodation provided for a numerous company at breakfast. It was the custom of Lady Goodman's day, for the bride and bridegroom to sit in full dress during a week, and receive congratulations from all the neighbouring gentry : and sorely did she regret the impossibility of reviving so venerable a pageant on the present happy occasion; but there was no option, and fortunately the fashion of setting out in a chaise and four relieved her from the mortification of confessing that the festivities of a hy- meneal scene could not be protracted under her roof beyond the cake-cutting hoar.

" The waste suites of unfurnished apartments were decked out with green branches, and flowers disposed in arches and alcoves, so that Miss Ferret converted the whole house into one mighty bower. She rooted out some old moth-eaten banners, which were kept as an heir-loom in the attic story, where, reposing under lock and key, they bore mouldering testimony to the ancestral valour of Sir Roger's blood ; also a stand of colours which had been presented to his father, who raised a regiment of Yeomanry ; some Free- Masonry insignia, which glittered with embroidery of tarnished gold and silver ; elks' horns, which had been sent as a curiosity ; two American bows; a pair of snow shoes ; some halberts, and a trumpet which were taken in the rebellion of forty-five ; with other articles which had not seen the light for years, but now came forward, however incongruously, to vary the sylvan de- corations, and were judiciously commingled with family portraits in massive frames; an ivory ship, which, covered with a glass bell, made a great figure; a canoe; two plaster-of-paris cupids ; a leaden fawn ; Harlequin and Colum- bine; Neptune and Hebe of the same material, and King William on horse- back, well executed in bronze; so as altogether to produce an imposing and animated effect along a vista of the entire front, including corridors, and en. liven the eternal shade ' which would otherwise have resulted from the great quantity of laurel, spruce, fir, and other evergreens forced into com- pany to fill the void. " Poor Lady Goodman, who knew better things than this ignorant medley exhibited, sighed as she acquiesced in all Miss Ferret's manifestations of taste, which would have been better suited to the preparations for enacting a pup- pet-show in a country barn, than the embellishments of a fine old feudal palace of the olden time, inhabited by those who boasted armorial bearings, and descent from the brave and fair of other days. There was no help for it, however. It was Hobson's choice, and no alternative presented itself, were Miss Ferret's suggestions repressed, except absolute vacuity. Now Lady Goodman loved Miss Robinson affectionately, and could not endure to appear deficient in friendship, while her excellent heart overflowed with kindness. She therefore preferred giving free scope to the fantastical vagaries of a merryandrew, to seeming less than she really was, to Sir Roger's ward, and her own protegee. " It was in the servant and equipage department, that the greatest difficul- ties arose. A solitary domestic, styled butler, but who exercised no domi- nion, for the best reason, namely, that he had no subjects, was the sole at- tendant at Colbrook. Dressed in a suit of snuff-coloured clothes which bad once been black, he answered the hall-door bell. In jacket of fustian, with turned up sleeves, he might next be seen, cleaning knives and forks; or should The earlier season lead

To the tanned haycock in the mead,'

you might again behold this worthy jack-of-all-trades, armed with rake and pitch-fork, tossing high and wide the meadow's fragrant crop. An old coach- man, who performed as many parts in the stable as old Hasty did within the house, completed the male part of the establishment ; and his rusty livery and antique wig were in perfect keeping with the heavy machine which it was his lot to guide, and the ancient pair of roan Barbaries which drew it. What a turn-out for a wedding!' exclaimed Miss Ferret, as she gazed upon the car- riage which was to appear on the following day first in the bridal procession:.

The picture of the coachman, whose rags are concealed by favours, is also a very clever touch of splendid misery.

" This argument prevailed, insomuch that he took his seat aloft with much self-complacency ; and from the prodigious breadth of his chest, and the mon- strous size of the star-like platforms which Miss Ferret pinned upon it, quite as large as the sod in a thrush's cage, David looked at a little distance, so like a target, that had the archers been out, he might have received an arrow through the heart, before he could have had time to bless himself. He'was next commissioned to return from Weston by a circuitous route, the pre- text for which was, to deliver a message at the house of a workwoman who had not brought home all Miss Robinson's linen, but the real object of which was to delay the carriage till all the party should have proceeded, and so avoid the display of that unwieldly concern amongst the gay chariots and landaus of the neighbouring gentry, several of whom graced our hymeneals with their presence. Miss Ferret then took occasion, when the company were all assembled on the steps just ready for departure, to say aloud to Lady Goodman, Upon my word, your ladyship has left us this morning withou a single servant to do anything. Two gone on with Sir Roger; one de- spatched to order post-horses, as if a note would not have been sufficient ; and there is Barnett, who has already drunk so many heaths to this happy event, that he was not able to stand straight, so I have sent him off to bed."

We think the following a very just picture of contented mediocrity of intellect, when coupled with easy circumstances and good health.

" They had neither of them seen much of the world, and neither knew anything of that high and towering intellect, which, like the lofty eagle, quits the level of the plain, and builds its eyrie in an upper world all its own. The Hartlands had sharp common understandings, good nature, and discre- tion ; but they rose not above mediocrity, and were of that class whose natural walk is on the earth. They were busy all day long about every thing ; interested' alike in the gravest or minutest concerns; and never tortured their brains with any subject of contemplation beyond the reach of sense. Health- ful in mind, as well as in body ; gay, and continually employed ; they talked, and walked, and rode, and drove, dined out, and gave dinners at home, and were never weary of themselves, or of the society around them."

The next extract we make for the neatness of its composition and the felicity of its phrase. " We remember to have been shown once upon a time, as a marvellous cu- riosity, the stump of a large bay-tree, which had been cut down to make way for certain architectural improvements, and actually converted into a chop- ping-block, in which capacity it was employed during several years; but at length the family, to whom it appertained, quitted their dwelling, and the aforesaid stump, which had not been defunct, but only slumbering, was cast into a heap of earth, where, fertilized by the beams of the sun and the dews of the morning, it struck root amid the garden rubbish, and sent forth branches which flourished proudly, and spread their verdant foliage to the wondering skies. What joyful surprise would this neglected trunk have ex- pressed had power of speech been granted and with what grateful pride would it not have called on the admiring universe to behold and glorify its transformation I

" Some such sentiments as we are supposing to have emanated from our bay-tree, glowed in the hearts of Mr. and Mrs. Hartland, as they gazed in rapture on a boy of uncommon symmetry and beauty; and, forgetful of the lavish prodigality of that vivifying principle which is employed at every mo- ment in giving life from the palace to the cottage, the cottage to the kennel, and the kennel downwards to the lowest grade of organized existence, thanked Heaven with such alacrity of transport as seemed to intimate that they considered the effort of nature which animated the vital energies of Henhury as astonishing and unexpected as that which caused the chopping- block to put forth leaves and blossoms."

In the second story, of the " Young. Reformers," a tale of Irish rebellion, occurs a passage which may vie with this, not only in the aptitude of the phrase, but in the happiness of its satirical touches.

" We arrived, and were ushered into a state drawing room, which had been evidently undressed for the occasion; linen bags, paper hoods, and green baize, had apparently preserved the rich glow of damask, which from the an- tiquity of its setting, would naturally have left its brightness far behind, had it not been well secured from the encroachments of light and air. Such a family as met my eyes, I never had seen before. Sir Roger was a perfect Falstaff, and Lady Lipscombe, when seated, described an inclined plane from her chin to the floor, while five Miss Lipscombes, bidding fair to emulate their portly parents in maturer age, sat round a large rose-wood table, which had been polished into a reflector by the labours of a century at least, and seemed, together with their !shadows, like a double parterre of full blown phonies. The whole party looked as if they sat perennially to receive com- pany. The ladies had all -their gloves on ; and their curls, crisp, fixed, and shining, appeared as if the entire household had been baked in an oven after their toilette was finished. In vain did I look round for book, work, musical

instrument, or anythingdenoting employment, which might serve as' a hook on which to hang an idea.' No such aid presented itself ; and taking refuge in the view, after a due interval which succeeded the salutation volley, I

ventured to ask one of the hedge-row of ' double and of single pinks' that decorated the apartment, whether she and her sisters were fond of sketching. Miss Clemina's cheeks assumed a deeper carmine, and how or when she would have replied, I know not, but her father, who overheard the question, spared her the trouble of answering.

" No, Mr. Fitzmaurice, my daughters neither scream nor daub, nor do anything that can be ranked under the head of modern accomplishments. It may be very well for people who cannot purchase the labours of those who live by their talents, to exert their own in disturbing the peace of a neigh- bourhood, if it suit their fancy to do so ; but Lady Lipscombe and I have set

our faces against fashionable education. When we visit some of our neigh-

bours, I do not recover my hearing for three or four days afterwards, my ears are so assailed by voices and instruments, trebles and bases, tenors and counter-tenors, harps, piano-fortes, flutes, and guitars; to say nothing of the bursting of a polyglot, in an inundation of French, Italian, and Ger- man. Some folks find these tinklings necessary to decoy admirers, as bees are

assembled by hammering a tin pan with a key, but I am fond of the old Spanish proverb, which, being translated, means that there is no sticking. plaster like a ducat.' There is nothing which money will not command. Money, Sir, is power. I am one of your cui &ono men, and always ask the uses of a thing before I adopt it.'"

From this second tale we shall take a closing extract, exhibiting powers of a higher description. The scene is a storm on the Irish

coast, followed by the wreck of a fisherman, who had been employed by the rebels to communicate with a foreign vessel off the shore. The boat is swamped, and the fisherman's wife alone is washed ashore alive,—old Norah,—whose passionate grief and wild fidelity, even in sorrow and when assailed by superstition, is as beautiful as it is a true. sketch of Irish nature.

" During the short interval in which I was engaged by these reflections, my brothers continued their efforts to revive the cold-stricken Norah. After

many fruitless efforts, they at length accomplished their object. A few drops of the cordial whisky were swallowed, and in a little time she opened her eyes, which she rolled wildly round, and starting from her bed, shrieked aloud-

"' Oh Dan a Vourneen, where are you ? Where is Jack ? Where is Timsey ?' " Her eyes lighting on our faces, not those of her husband and children, she relapsed into another swoon, long and deep, from which we had great difficulty in recovering her. " At last she sat up, and clasped her sun-burnt hands together in an agony of grief, rocking her body backwards and forwards to a piteous wail, which the Irish call Ullagone ; the dirge music in which they mourn their dead. She gave no answer to our entreaties that she would try and compose herself. In vain did we inquire what had happened, and ask bow we could possibly afford her any relief. She did not reply to a single question, but rolling her tearless eyes in their sockets, staring now at one of us, and then at another, but without appearing to take notice of any, the hapless creature continued her melancholy howl, beating her breast and tearing her hair. " At the expiration of an hour's ineffectual effort to obtain the slightest in- formation from Norah, we determined on removing her from a scene so dread- ful as that of her now lonely abode, leaving M'Farlane behind to watch the fire till our return. Just as we were going to tare Norah from her cabin, the sagacious Scotchman bethought him of an expedient which operated like magic on the wretched mourner. He recollected the national superstition, and exclaimed, in an expostulatory tone, Oh then, is it like a fond wife or mother, to say, that you'd let their ghosts roam for ever and ever, without rest or quiet. rather than tell where we might look for the bodies, and bury 'em like Christians ?'

" This idea roused Norah's torpid senses. She started as if she had been shot, and would have rushed out of the house, if we had not fastened the door in the instant that she was about to dart through it.

" Yes, Norah,' said the persevering Scot, 'they will wander and be un- happy, if you do not tell all you know, and let us try and find them, that they may be waked properly, and buried with their people.' " God bless you; God bless you;' reiterated the frenzied Norah ; Go to the Black Pint; och, 'tis the Black Pint.' " ' What took them to the Black Point at this unseasonable hour, and in such a storm ? '

" ' What else but the boat, gramichree,' answered Norah.

" What were they doing in such weather as this ? ' " Fishen, dear, fishen,' was the poor creature's lying answer.

" ' No, that is impossible, Norah,' said I ; you must notdeceive those who would befriend you. Dan Kelly knew too well when it was coming on to blow hard. He would not venture his own life or that of his sons in such a night as this. It is no fishing time. Tell what you can of the affair, and evt.ry help shall be given you' " I knows nauthen, asthore. For the honour o'God, dear, ax me no more, for I can't tell anythin but only that they war strugglen home agin the tided, and were maken straight for Black Pint when a big wave (oh then, oh then, oh then I) hised away the boat and capsized it. There's no more to be tould, only darlens is gone, holy Mary mark 'em to glory, and 'tis I that's dissolit to day.' Norah wept bitterly as she uttered these words. I besought her to tell me who, beside her husband and sons, had been buffeting the billows in the boat on that awful night. " • How does your honour think I can tell ! 'Tis enough for me, that them that's gone, is gone. Oh ! cuishla machree, Timsey, my darlen of all my darlens.' " Mac Farlane, perceiving that I made no great way in my catechism, brought forward the little dog, which had lain by in a dark corner of the cabin, and carelessly turning it with his foot, said, in a soliloquizing manner, ' Poor little brute! you are more lucky than your master. He is gone, to be sure, with the rest of 'em, and will be without Christian burial too, while you will be laid in the ground as if you had a soul to be saved. I wonder, Mr. Albert, whether the party in the boat were lost before they reached the ship, or whether they ever were able to put the stranger on board' Norah had not till now seen either the oar or the dead dog, and fell into the most extra- vagant lamentations at sight of them. Terrified at finding M'Farlane, as she now believed, in the secret, she fell on her knees, and in a tone of the most earnest supplication entreated that he would not divulge a single particular. " Some of 'em may be alive yet. May be all wouldn't be drowned, and if they war, the sperrets o' the dead, Misther Mickfaarlin, would never laive you alone if you spaik. Oh ! Sir, and the widdy's blessen on you, don't be villeefyen them that's gone. Laive 'em quite any way, for they've enough to trouble 'em without that."

" I wouldn't harm the dead, woman,' said M'Farlane, 'any more than you. 'Tis a pitiful case. Only tell his name, and her name who was with him, and your fortune is as good as made. If you speak truth, my master will send an account of it all to the castle o' Dublin, and you'll be sure of a purse of gold that will keep you in comfort for the test o' your life.' I'll tell nauthen but what you know,' replied the sobbing Norah; and there's no use in axing me, for I'll die before I tells upon 'em. What do I want of cumfurt now? If money would make tell-tales of any that lived in this cabin, as poor as it is, wouldn't we be riden in a coach and six long ago fur spaiken plain; but though they're down in the salt sai, I'll not fret 'em, I'll hould my tongue; and Misther Mickfaarlin, if you war'nt a Sassenah (no offence, Sir), you would'nt be the one to turn the hearts o' the dead frum me. Oh then.! oh then ! a weenough Dan, and Tom, and Timsey asthore ! If 'tis a thing that they braiks every bone in my body, or cuts out my tongue, they'll get no good o'me, for the sorra a word I'll spaik, no more than the dead himself.' " No cunning of M'Farlane's could elicit further ; and though so strongly prompted by curiosity, which triumphed over every other feeling, that I had endeavoured myself to come at the bottom of the melancholy tale, I admired the noble devotedness of this affectionate woman, upon whom no sordid mo- tive had the slightest influence. She would willingly have laid down her life, rather than betray the cause to which she had sworn fealty. Oh ! how the generous heroism of poor Norah, and her enthusiastic fidelity even to the shades of those who had been dear to her, put to shame all who, without a spark of disinterested zeal, first involved, and then abandoned a people, many of whom gave proofs like this of the tenderest and most unselfish attachment 1 Norah, suddenly recollecting that the removal of the dog might damp the spirit of investigation, seized a spade which stood in the but against the wall, and turning up the clay floor within the hurdle which served as a partition between the outer division of her but and the interior where she slept, depo- sited the little animal, collar and all, filling the hole, and stamping the ground with her feet to make all smooth as it was before. In this labour of love towards the memory of the departed, her grief seemed forgotten in her anxiety to conceal whatever might injure any survivor whose cause her hus- band and children had espoused."