A NOVEL OF THE OLD SCHOOL — THE BARONY.* WHAT an extraordinary

production is the true ladies' novel of five- and-twenty years ago ! What a tangled web did they weave— what personages did they invent—amidst what a creation did they live! Adam, whose employment it was to name the beasts of Paradise, had enough to do ; but how much less than either Miss BURNEY or Miss PORTER! The population of the Barony we reckon at about two thousand individuals : Miss ANNA MARIA ought to return a member to Parliament, on the score of the pots which her inventive genius alone has set a-boiling. Then these novels of the old school are so long l—a reader reads till he posi- tively lives among the dramatis personre, and becomes as per- suaded of their existence as of his aunts' and his cousins'. And bow nice, how fine, how minute is the history !—private thoughts, public actions, motives, views, prospects remote and contingent, area!! brought into play : it is anatomy of the most laborious and painful description. It always astonishes us how the ladies can draw such bad men —how they can be so ingenious in evil, so masterly in crime. The Rarony boasts a villain as light-hearted as llierratio, far more base than //i,go, and so damnably ingenious withal, that the Newgate Calendar is a fool to the black imagination of the fair and gentle

ANNA MARIA.

Merit there undoubtedly is in these elaborate compositions, of which the Misses PORTER have produced so many : I he proof is, that so few can equal them—nay, so few can compete with them. 'What talent is that which, by a slow and gradual operation, ulti- mately succeeds in placing you as it were in another world—in the author's world; so that when you look out of your book on your study or your dinner-table, you feel strange—scarcely awake—as if you were peeping in at another man's window ? This is the triumph of the old novelist : it is not the triumph of genius, but of art and industry. In the Barony is the portrait, full-length, minute, down to the shoe-tie, of a fine old gentleman of the lime of our RevolWion- one Sir Full: Trevanion, of Treverderet : he is weak, bigoted, prejudiced, but at the same time full of noble and respectable qualities. We have his history in about three thousand pages ; and we declare, upon our critical honour, that at the conclusion of page 2995, we were as firmly convinced of his veritable existence, as of that of our venerable gran-uncle. Lady authors are also great in the description of old domains, of fine parks and pictu- resque grounds. Miss A. M. PORTER excels in landscape garden- ing: the two parks of Rohesia and Treverderet are certainly de- scribed with great taste and beauty.

• The Barony. By Anna Maria Porter. 3 vols. London, 1530.

We cannot, perhaps, give a better specimen of this work, than in the scene which produces its demonement. The eyes of an old man are opened to the traitorous machinations of his nephew, by the discovery of a letter addressed to the Jesuit Peters, the con- fessor of James the Second. The old Baronet had been set se-ainst his son by this nephew, who had planned the ejection of th true heir of Treverderet by moans of the Catholic back-stairs infl mice of that reign. The hardy fidelity of a retainer intercepts a tett er ivhich exposes the whole plot : and, in the following pas- sage, contrives to comnumicate it to his Waster.

" I lere was another opportunity for Colonel Trovanion to lavish pro- cessions of a SOH'S deVOtedlleSS to the honoured uncle, who was bestowing on him the dearest blessings of life ; he did, indeed, promise largely for himself and his °Mining ; mixing his protestations with several kindly notices of his uncle's looks, fearing he had made over exertion of his spirits to do his future relations honour.

" ` I ain, in truth, not of my best to-night,' Sir Folk answered, in a tone unusually depressed.—' Over excitement, douhtless—pleasurable ex- citement !—I inn quite ready for illy bed ; so give me a low drops of your Turkish medicine, and it will (mkt these nerves, that, like fretful children, cry for rest :—filteen, or twenty—not more, Dunbar. I have thought when I took more, that my head was out of sorts afterwards-1 was sensi. ble of wandering—unfitness or business.' " ' Oh, never, sir !' exclaimed Dunbar, in his common tone of cheer- fulness ; I never knew you unable to transact business ; your head is always clear and calm. I wish I could say so of your dear heart l—but that iS not right of me,' he added, appending an air of cunt rn ion to his llatteries.—` I never found the effect you mention upon myself. Acciden- tal disorder of the stomach, perhaps, in your case. Fifteen or twenty drops, you say ? ' and advancing to a chamber-lamp, and taking out a Pocket phial, curiously encased in basket.work of SiiVCT, 11011 is distinctly saw him pour four times that quantity into the antique cup oh' embossed gold, which stood partly full of the posset it was Sir Folk's custom to drink as a night draught, upon a table by the bed. " The knight motioned him to let it remain there. ` I will drink it anon,' he said.—' Good night, nephew !—pleasant dreams to you ' he added, forcing a ' Your true life is beginning. :Ilay it prove hap- pier in one sense than your uncle's—in allot her it cannot be ! ' Again the image of a wife, early lost, floated before him, and he repeated, with more obvious emotion, ` Good night ! good night ! le pressed his ne- pluiw's band convulsively as he spoke : the false wretch kissed his in re- turn ; and a moment afterwards, the one was left to his sad memories, the other gone with his witching hopes. " Now beat the heart of 1 I ollis almost- audibly, as be heard his master's full, long-drawn sigh, when he thought himself alone ! To Ilk ear, every pulse in his own body heat louder than the ticking of the clock which stood Time's sentinel, solemn and tall, as if worthy of its (Alice, in a high ebony case near the door. He waited for the moment when he might fancy Colonel Trevanion safely lodged in his chamber meanwhile the knight traversed the apartment slowly and sorrowfully. " ' It will not do 1 ' he exclaimed at length. ' Oh, this weight ! this weight l' and striking his hand repeatedly upon his breast, he slipped in his melancholy walk. Then he advanced to the lire, and clasping both hands over his brow, leaned up against the cold marble of the chii ec xy: piece, evidently without heeding its coldness ; his voice and action pressed the deepest sense of desolation. His face was hidden; but the half-grey head, which, till of late, had showed only a silver hair here and there amongst its jet—the attenuated hands—the feebler tones, proved that storms had already made a ruin of what time had spared. Hollis's unso- phisticated heart was full to bursting : he could not rudely interrupt such privacy of grief, and he stood still, fearing to draw breath. " Lost in dismal thoughts, Sir Folk remained some time in the position he had taken : at length, raising himself, he exclaimed ; "That foul mar- riage !—all—all but that, I think '—Every feature of the father's face was now full of his son : hut as if anxious to rid himself of stinging feel- ings, he stretched out his arm to take the cup Dunbar had drugged so potently. At this sight 1 lollis forgot consequences to himself ; and rashly springing out from behind the bed-hangings, dashed the relic from his master's hands. It was well for him that he had to do with a man habi- tually present to himself upon every occasion of personal danger : for Sir Folk seeing a person rush out upon him, directly seized the sword which lay duly unsheathed every night by his bedside, and retreating a few paces, ejaculated 1 Iollis's name in a tone of pure astouishment.

" 1 lollis, indeed, was now upon his knees before him, in an attitude of humble supplication. Struck you that cup out of my hand by chance or design ? ' the knight cried. Hollis could not answer : his lips, parched by the nervous emotion with which he had been so long watching, could not separate with a single articulate sound. " Speak, fellow ! resumed the knight, anger beginning to flash from Ids eyes ; hest thou committed theft or murder, that thou contest eaves- dropping here, to crave my protect in? out with the truth I' " Neither theft nor murder—nor aught hut in love and duty to your honour !' replied Hollis, recovering the power of speech by degrees. ` I crave only your full reading of this here letter;' and he drew the momen- tous one, trembling, from his breast.

" From thyself ?' carelessly questioned the knight, taking the paper, and imagining it some witless petition of his servant's about marriage or change of service. Hollis did not answer ; he raised himself, however, upon one knee, so as to preserve, along with his humble posture, the abi- lityofspringingup to bar the:return of ColonelTrevanion, should anything bring him hack. Resolute not to let him enter, be the consequence what it might, until his master hail gone through the evidence against him, he now kept his eyes in alternate watch upon the latter and the door. " From my nephew l' exclaimed Sir Folk, in an altered tone, as he was unfolding the paper in front of the lamp. What meaneth this, sirrah ? this letter is not for me.'

Iknow it is not,' replied Hollis, his voice sharpened by intense anxiety ; but there are notable things in it. Those drops I was so bold

as overcast —'

" Sir Folk broke in upon him like a clap of thunder. 'Scum! dost thou come to insinuate that there was aught evil in that cup ! Who setteth thee on to this ?—thy sister ? my daughter's waiting-wench I Or

thy mad sweetheart, mistress Eveleen 1111oz:1-ford's ? Away with thee, on the instant, to my nephew, and ask his pardon. Ile shall have my leave to condemn thee to the stocks, or a sound whipping; much as I once rated thee.'

" I will die before I go to Colonel Trevanion now 1' Hollis firmly an- swered, yet not rising from his lowly position. 'I care not what becomes of myself afterwards :—only, honoured Sir, as you love your own soul, and would not league with devils, read this letter. I am willing to face

the colonel directly after ; only look on this cover.' In his trepidation poor Hollis presented that addressed to the Fairest of the Fair, which, although it called the vexed blood into the knight's face, seemed merely indicative of some unworthy connexion which he might hope his ne- phew's marriage was to end.

" I Let thy betters' follies, teach thee to look to thine own P he said, sharply : thou darest not say my nephew has betrayed innocence ?—it cannot he ! So away with this love tale. Sirrah, begone, I say ! I took thee for a different man !'

" ' No love-tale!' persisted Hollis,' I call heaven to witness ! but foul play against your honour—against our church—against his majesty ! The colonel telling dark secrets to some popish priest ; (and here he dis- played the cover he had first intended), your honour puppeted, 'tis said here, by the wires of the barony.' "I lollis's pleadings were no longer required : some words had caught the eye of Sir Fulk in the papers he was thrusting back into their cnvo- lopes, and those uttered by I Milk at once clove him frons his scruples. His very brow struck fire, whilst exclaiming Make fast the door 1' and plunged straight into the letter.

" He read as though he was devouringwhat his eyes took in; yet ever and anon he stopped,—turned the papers over,—examined their folding, their quality,looked with a stedfust gaze upon the seal, the characters,the signa-

ture, wldch, though but init lids, hail the conformation peculiar to time tree- ingof the hand by which they were said to be written—then returned to his perusal with keener intentne.is. In thetesistet' the second reading, he staggered with closed 1•):-;, and the i" by his hand, hark

towards the bed, and, falling again-1 i, -p and startlin-

Hollis would have approached to LAIR,: hint ill : knight motiontil him oft, co/al:win effort. At length recovering [min tL•

his head, and showed his face, .1 he was using over his tonipestio ngs. !'

have either done me the greatest , the can do another. If this paper be a f,..1 and as he spoke, his foregone convict I .■ ‘" SO, plette your honour,' returned .

colonel himself, thought he kill me on . 'your honour to see that there is knavery pre.:tisin; I care nut \v c' hurt Comes to myself.'

" Sir Volk gazed upon the face of IT illis, which, brave sad hurl with

honest purposes, was brightened the more by the vi try ey. Ii 1 iiil-

vanced some steps towards the door, with the intent .)C gating- at c.: as

his nephew, but calmed, because less inclined to believe the letti:c a r-

gery, he stopped, saying, Not now,—nut to-night. I must be ! —To-morrow—you have boldness to affront your own act, 1 as up " I hope I have, sir,' replied his modest yet resolute companion ; and I hope there is much happine;s in store for your honour.'

" No happiness for toe, I—none, none !' Sir Volk involontarily

exclaimed ; all fail fuel—they have wrecked Inc amongst them I le was thinking then of his children and his nephew ; for as yet he saw every thing confusedly ; apprehending little beyond his own deception ; and

his kinsman's ingratitude. But I will hear now, what you have to say further of those papers—the way you Caine by them,' he added, and sat down mechanically. " Hollis, thus encouraged, and assured against interruption from with- out, by the fastening of the door, here gave a minute detail of every cir- cumstance connected with his opening of the packet ; which included, of course, the grounds of his suspicion of Colonel Trevanion ; what he had himself traced of that gentleman's underhand intimacy with the popish leaders ; what his sister Susannah had learned from Lord Danby's page ; and, lastly, what had been confessed to bins by Damaris Flavel. He was careful to say nothing which he could not prove : neither entering into a defence of Mr. Trevanion, nor hazarding a single conjecture as to the probability of more villainy than was contained in the letter before him. "The knight listened in perfect silence, although his features were often suddenly contracted, and his lips moved with great quickness, as if form- ing words after his thoughts. When Hollis concluded, he read the letter a third time, evidently comparing its clauses, one by one, with what he had been hearing. The conclusion was something too like conviction for further hesitation ; he raised himself from his chair, and putting out his hand with a mixture of dignity and kindness, suffered his servant to take

and kiss it respectfully. You may hegone, now, good Hollis,' he said; ` I shall sift this matter, with my nephew, in your presence to-morrow. Fear nothing, I will protect you from his anger, be he what he may ! If there be villainy practised here against him, instead of toe, 1(10 not think you have any share in contriving it. Keep the matter close, and be ready for our summons directly after breakfast.' 1 ml his eagerly promised to he in waiting ; renewed the most fervent thanks for having been lis- tened to by his lima in red master, and with eyes moistened by so much extraordinary emotion, bowed and departed."