NEW NOVELS. * THE matter of Claude de Vesei is of

a twofold kind. In the romantic parts, which chiefly belong to the end of the book, the idea and the incidents are well worn, improbable, or exaggerated. There is a reduced family of gentle blood to be restored to their position. There is a wicked West Indian agent, who robs orphan children of their property, and after a life of wretchedness is compelled by conscience to denounce himself on his deathbed. There is a lofty exclusive such as Minerva presslings or foreign romancists delight to paint as Miler Inglais' though it turns out that the insolent aristocrat is only a wealthy Mr. Frog, whose great object in life is to sink his surname by acquiring a title. This idea is not unworthy of a farce—perhaps has been taken from one ; but as it is connected with grave, indeed tragic matters in the book, it becomes incongruous. The power of writing is throughout considerable, and gives force even to inferior matter. The other part of Claude de Treseiis of a very superior character ; fresh, ,informing, genial, truthful in depiction, and not devoid of pathos. The mode of life first described is that of the statesmen of Northamberland upwards of half a century ago. The incidents are few, and belong to the commonest occurrences of daily life,— the reception of Claude and his little sister by their uncle, Mr. Vesey, the excellent farmer of Beckside, and his still more excel- lent wife Hannah ; the common training such a place and its school afford to. Claude ; the development of the kindly heart and Christian piety of his little sister Edith, and her early death. This death affects Claude deeply, and is finally a means of inducing him to give up some mercantile prospects that are open to him, and 'devote himself to the church. The vicar of the village, a deep scholar, who neglects everything for his books, prepares Claude for Cambridge, and is siamulated by the example of his pupil into an attention to his long-neglected duties as a clergyman.

Claude de Vesei : a Tale. In two volumes. Published by Bell and Daldy. The Lady of Fashion. By the Author of 'The History of a Flirt," ate. In three volumes. Published by Hurst and Blackett.

The White Chief : a Legend of Northern Mexico. By Captain Mayne Reid, Author of " Rifle Bangers,' " Sealp-Ranters,"4-e. 4-c. In three volumes. Pub- lished by Bogue. The economy of Mr..Vesey, and the wreck of Claude's West Indian property, enable the young aspirant to go to the 'University ; and that leads to a picture. .of Cambridge life... It is exhibited chiefly as regards the earmst student, the °tireless incompetence of some tutors in the olden time, the _petty tyranny . within the power of the Master of a. College, and the occasional jealousy amongst the .Fellows. This part of the boa has not the novelty, the free rustic charm of 1Beckside, the feminine Attraotion of little Edith's affectionate goodness, or. the sterling virtues of farmer Vesey and his wife.. The more scholastic parts exhibit , a know- ledge ,of Cambridge practice, a gopd deal of thonght in reference to teaching, and abound., iii . sharp iniet pictures of University failings. 'Ills is a sketch of religious instruction at head-quarters

a long time ago. ,. ,

" The village parishes for many miles round Quoin-M.1g°, with few excep- tions, were in those days.much neglected. The officiating clergyman was frequently the Fellow of a College, who trotted over to ins church on the Sunday mornino:, read the prayers with little devotion, and then coldly de- livered a short-dull sermon. to hearers few and listless. After service at his first church, he took his luncheon with the squire or a wealthy fanner, and rode on to his second church, where the same spiritless routine was re- peated; and back he came to his dressing-gown, chop, apricot-jam tart, plate of nuts, and pint of port, enlivened by the pungent polities and bitter satire of his Sunday newspaper. As for weekly duty, he knew of none, un- less it was a wedding or a burial, which could not conveniently be crammed into the Sunday. Samar, attendance on the sick,—except special re- quest, when a prayer was formally read out of the Visitation Service,—were uuthought of. "The people, meanwhile, were well enough contented with their pastor. He was commonly a goodnatured„ easy man, spoke kindly to all, brought little presents to the children of his village hosts, had a ready shilling for a broken leg or the loss of a cow, and gave an order on the College buttery for a stoup of ale to every poor parishioner who called with a message. He, too, really liked the Sunday's riding out. It was a pleasant change from college, and did a man good.' A chat with the squire about county news and poachers, or with the farmers about crops and cattle, had a freshness in it after a week of stale combination-room gossip. And then, there was a sort of complacent conviction withal, that so great a Sunday's work—two full services, besides occasionals—for a bare seventy pounds a year, would surely tell for something hereafter in favour of a Senior Fellow, who could easily, if he chose, stay in college, sleep late, and doze through Ht. Mary's.

"On the high road, a few miles from Cambridge, a narrow lane turns off to the left. The eye can just discern, through a group of trees,' some two hundred yards up this lane, an ancient church. The living was one of three small vicarages held at this time by the same old clergyman, who resided in Cambridge.

"It was his practice to ride past the end of the lane every Sunday about one o'clock, from the morning service at his first church, to the afternoon service at his third church, three miles further on. If by any chance so many people were collected as to make omission of service too grossly in- decorous—of late years a thing that never happened—or if there was a child brought for baptism, or a corpse for interment, the clerk stood in the middle of the road opposite the churchyard-gate, and hoisted his hat on a stick as the signal, and the vicar's horse was reluctantly turned up the lane. Other- wise Sunday passed after Sunday for months together, and the door of the ehurch, was never opened. "Two of the three farmers in the parish, after vainly remonstrating with their vicar, had for years sought public worship in the Independent chapel at Melbourne. The third, vowing he'd never go out of his own parish for what he paid tithe to have in it,' sauntered through his fields, if the Sunday was fore; if wet, sat in his arm-chair, read-the Cambridge Chroniek, smoked, and slept. The labourers acquiesced in their churchless Sundays with sto- lid indifference. They lay late in bed, awl when up lounged about in their clirty work-day clothes, or trotted in the beer-shop as long as money or credit lasted."

Like most stories with a didactic object, The Lady of Fashion is somewhat overdone. The aim of the writer is to impress upon the reader the superiority of domestic happiness and home affec- tions over the splendour of Wealth and the vanities of a fashion- able career. The truth of this is undoubted, and the moral is contained in the two examples presented by the author of "The History of a Flirt." The instances, however, do not impress the reader very powerfullyP, because they both seem exceptional ; the religious lessons occasionally introduced want depth, and the con- clusions are forced. The moral against wealth is pointed by a handsome young girl, whose heart has been seared by a military trifler, being persuaded to accept an elderly gentleman of large property, who during courtship is active and cheerful enough. The punishment comes when Mr. Wilmot reaches his splendid mansion of Denehurst. He is somewhat self-indulgent as an epicure ; this failing and a constitutional disposition make him indolent and somnolent ; he passes his time in an easy chair mostly asleep ;. but as he dotes upon his young wife, he will not let her from his side, and lively Kate Hayes that was is wretched from the dulness and confinement, and terrified when she finds out that her husband is hypochondriacal and occasionally fancies himself a coffeepot. The illustration of fashion is better conceived and more ela- borately developed. Hugh Barnardiston is the son of a plain, home-loving, Sussex family, of great antiquity and wealth, which has eschewed high alliances and high: society., and vegetated in the neighbourhood of Lewes. Such a family might be feasible a century ago, but scarcely in the time of George the Fourth. However, it is a convenience to the story, and serves as a vehicle for some clever provincial sketches after the manner of Mrs. Gore. Brighton is the highest place in the world of fashion- able geography that young .Barnardiston, weary of his dull home, travels to. There he falls in with a young widow of title, poor, handsome, fascinating, artful, and heartless to a degree. Hugh, ensnared, carries home his bride : she, as the phrase is, turns the house out of window, disgusts old Mrs. Barnardiston, offends Mr. Barnardiston, who was at first taken with her, torments but manages Hugh, and a life of annoyance if not of misery looms be- fore him. Luckily for all parties, the lady of fashion is bent upon

private theatricals ; but she breaks down under the annoyances and anxieties of the manager.

"It was a service of continual exertion, uncertainty, and disappointment, -which she had not calculated upon ; and the heartless conduct of the Hay- leys was unjustifiable, when they must be aware of her anxiety to succeed in an amusement open to all. Her health was too delicate for so much anxiety of mind ; she felt the lose of Mrs. Wilmot and Duchesne distress- ingly. They would have relieved her from every burden, and taken any part at any short notice. Delamotte was horridly stupid in everything except keeping Agnes in good-humour. She heartily regretted having parted with Ducheime for a trivial offence, and her shortsightedness was great in sending Kate Hayes home because she pined after Calcraft. If she had retai.ned them both, her theatre would have proved a triumph, whereas it was now a millstone round her heart.

4' Lady Caroline battled with her feelings, and tried to laugh down her morlifications for some little time, with her usual resolution. She never bad given way to low spirits, and every one had bent to her will and sub- mitted to her government, sooner or later. But her theatrical arrange- ments had not prospered. Promises were showered upon her, which were rescinded at the moment of need, by the talented ones,—the incompetent ones alone kept faithful to their vows, and could not be got rid of. Her ladyship would not own her discomfiture or contemplate a defeat, though anxious thoughts were visibly stamped an her brow. It was impossible to resist continual failures among her gay Mends; her temper became irritable and no longer under control, under little squabbles about characters and 'costume. No one attended the rehearsals properly : Hugh Barnardiston always waived studying his part, and Juliana lad a chance of losing her Aranza at last. It was a heavy undertaking—u heavy expense— that she was not disturbed about ; but it was likely to prove a still heavier failure. Papa Barnardiston looked gratified, Mamma Barnardiston smiled insolently, Mr. Hugh actually expressed himself content, at her repeated disappoint- ments, and he felt unaided and alone. Human nature could not bear such trials, when so much had been done on her part towards a triumphant success. She should expire under repeated mortifications.

"Lady Caroline had never known opposition, and it overcame her at last. Circumstances opposed her : she could argue with persons, but it was impossible to control circumstances. Her ladyship became ill, and 'sank into a stupor, which caused much alarm ; medical advice was called in, but it was followed by low fever, which closed the Barnardiston theatre for

ever."

Fashion made the object of life has worse troubles and worse dangers than private theatricals ; they point the moral insu.ffi- iciently. But in truth Lady Caroline Barnardiston points no moral at all, because she is so utterly selfish and heartless that any one like her would be beyond the voice of the moral charmer. But the character, though very rare, and as presented to the reader distasteful, has traits of reality, and is conceived and painted with much feminine nicety ; it is a woman telling tales out of schooL

Captain Mayne Reid's White Chief belongs in point of class to the novel of adventure. Stirring and changeful occurrences amongst the Spanish settlers of Northern Mexico and the sur- rounding Indians a hundred years ago, are • uently overlaid. by descriptions of the customs geology, topogra. y, and geography of the region, as if the Captain could hardly s e off the manner 'of the Juvenile didactic tale-writer. Neither, with all his know- ledge of the country and the people, is he safe from a critical ob- jection, that the feelings and discourse of the persons he exhibits are not dramatically true. The ideas are those of the English- man of the nineteenth centurf, not of the Mexicans of the eight- eenth. Save for this defect the picture of the manners seems cor- rect enough.

The White Chief professes to be "a legend of Northern Mexico," descriptive of the destruction of the town of San Ildefonso, effected by a surprise of the Waco Indians. The Wacos, however' are merely instruments in the hands of an American by descent, who having rendered great servioes to the tribe becomes their chief, and uses them to wreak his vengeance upon the town and all that are therein. In this revenge the feeling is Mexican enough ; but Carlos the Ciboloro (or buffalo-hunter) has great provocation. The Spanish Colonel-commandant licentiously pursues his sister ; the captain is a rival in love ; the priests persecute him as a heretic, and the townspeople gloat over the torments of his mother and sister. Upon these things as a groundwork is raised a super- structure of adventures among the Indians, and to defeat the schemes of his enemies against the hero himself, which form a series of stirring incidents or rather situations, sometimes possess- ing an almost breathless interest.