THE LADY ANAHETT A.
As a novel, The Lady Annabetta is not of the very highest class; for the story is deficient in incident, and drags heavily in its pro- gress towards the cireumstunce which determines the catastrophe. There is something single, too, in the younger, and, dramatically speaking, the more active characters of the b ok ; something—a shade—too superfine and sentimental in the conduct and feeliegs of the majority of the persons, who seem rather to have lived iii the rare a•mosphere of a circulating library's world than in the grosser one which mankind breathe. Still, as a novel, it has con- siderable merit. Like the author's &sad, the story has been carefully considered from its opening to its ending ; the characters have been distinctly conceived, and ate developed with the most complete consistency ; every thing both of matter and manner is finished as perfectly as labour could finish it. The reader of these days may desire, towards the close, more vigour, breadth, and ra- pidity of manner; but he will meet nothing crude, careless, or slovenly.
It is, however, as a didactic work and as a portraiture of cha- racter in a state of society just eassed away, that The Lady Anna- betta is to be chiefly valued. The time of the story, at its com- mencement, is thirty years ago,—or, we should incline to say, despite the writer's manaueabe chronology, somewhat earlier; and the opening scenes exhibit a state of domestic life and a class of persons who may yet perhaps linger on the stage as individual specimens, but whose genus is extinct. Major de Grey is a man of the world. and a husband of the times "when GEORGE the Third was King." Handsome, gentlemanly, gallant, and. very gay, he married a spoiled beauty and an heiress, for her money, without ceasing his attentions to the sex. Matrimonial jealousies and quarrels ensued: the Major despised and hated his wife, but treated her with that cool, smooth, polished sarcasm, more cutting than violence, and strongly characteristic of his tribe : yet amid all his inward selfishness, and notwithstanding his feelings towards his wife, he has a doting fondness for his daughter, equally characteristic. Lady Annabetta, his ill-used wife, though not so common a personage, is drawn with equal skill, in her almost hysteric violence, subdued by her breeding, and in her estrangement of mind and temper, though in her heart she is still attached to her first love, At the opening of the story, the Major is grown old and moral, " or rather moralizing;" and is looked upon by his acquaintance as an unfortunate man whose happiness is embittered by the oddities of his wile's temper,—those oddities having been cau,ed by concealed and corroding passions preying upon a peculiar tem- perament, till reason was nearly shaken. Time, however, has rather added to the hostility of this pair than reduced it; and in their quarrels—admirably delineated—the heroine is trained, and almost spoiled.
These figures stand out conspicuously. There are a few others of the same tore, some mere sketches, some more elaborated; as Lord Fortrose, a good-natured, gallant, accomplished wit of the old school, before the word "exclusiveness," as barbarous as the thing, hid been thrust upon the language. But all, of tho time we speak of, are admirably painted, the result of perfect know- ledge and perhaps a feiicitous skill. The persons think, speak, and act, as persons of no other age could. It is not mere manners that are painted : the chat actor, the motives, and even the cir- cumstances, are fashioned, as it were, by the manners of the period. And this is done with such sobriety awl nice fidelity, that it may rcquire some acquaintance with the life itself Wily to appreciate the excellence el the likeness.
The motels also which the work points are admirable. Not, however, the moral apparently designed by the author,—which is to show the necessity of religion; theugh religion is not called Upon to support the heroine through a life of worldly trouble, and it does not seem to have been sufficient to have done so in this peculiar case. The moral we deduce, is the effeet of profliearty Upon the character; the hardness of heart—the petrifaction of feeling*—the indifference to the lifelong happiuess of others, in comparison with any temporary gratification ot self—which it pro- duces. Another ethical point is the fearful effects of the quarrels of husband and wife upon their children—the art and concealment it of necessity induces, the disrespect towards parents it gene- rates, anti the risk that their own conduct will prodnce in their offspring a repetition of their own fate. All this is dune so die-
• " I wave Ste quantum of the -in, The hazinl o' enneea'ing ; Rut lolli bard1.11. {5-1/1.%11,
As: petrifies the feeliug."-13 t; N.,.
tiactlys that. the RicsteRnsoN-like elaboration with which it is fleeted nuty readily be forgiven; though the execution. is so line that it is likely to escape the baste novel-reader. In addition to one point of comparison with the author's former work of Rocabel already noted, there is anther which is nut so flet tering. This is the fault of spinning out the distress, without suflieient reason, at least without sufficient reason to modern under- statelings. Moreover, the distress itself—a mind ill at ease leading to illness of body—is desei ibed at an undue length, when the catastrophe is, or ought to be, at hand. The novelist does not perceive the distinction between what a writer on oratory would call the narrative and the argument—an exposition of that which is unknown, or tin application of that we know already : yet the difference is as great as between the leisurely marshalling and preparing of soldiers, and the rapidity of the charge. The reader,, at the °penile, of a book, will bear an elaborate painting of minute circumstances, which will render him impatient and induce him It) skip when he is got into the interest of the story. If, too, The Lady Annabetta be very closely analyzed, it would seem to display a lack of' variety in the field of study, so far as regards the events of life. In form, ilideed, there is no resent- bbince to RoR«bel ; but there is in substance. In both novels, the heroine exemplifies a naturally excellent disposition nearly ruined by eircumstatices, but cerrected and elevated by love. la 1)(411, the cause of distress is a young rake : in both, the lover is arave, lofty, high-principled, and on the point of losing his mistress by punctilio pushed almost to the ridiculous. After all, this very close eriticisin is somewhat ungrateful or line:melons. The defects of the writer are closely connected with her excellences ; and perhaps her defects arise from a defect in ourselves. The body probably reacts upon the mind, as the mind upon the body. 'rile accomplished author of Lady MARY WoRYLEY MONTAGrfe Memoirs, in Lord WH A ANC LI FFIK'S remarks on the big, dry, tedious romances our female ancestors were in the habit of being amused with : hut our ancestors tra- velled in sailing.vessels and slow coaches, and waited days or hours till they thought fit to start. We are off' to the minute, and by steam-boats, locomotives, or vehicles horsed to do eleven miles an hour including stoppages. In addition to being a very excellent novel, The Lady Annabetta abounds with sketches of a certain class of provincial society, and shrewd remarks. From these we shall chiefly take our extracts, as admitting a greater variety and a better display than any single- scene.
• MAN OF THE! WORLD.
He was thoroughly, essentially, in every pulsation of the heart, every faculty III the brain, every outward gesture and inward throb; what is commonly termed a man of the world ; a term so intlefinite, so often used, and so often misapplied, that with the greatest reluctance is it inserted in these pages. It sounds very I libernian to say that nature seemed to have made him no ; but she had undoubtedly given him that callousness with respect to the higher and nobler sentiments which disposes the utind to receive those impressions o caution anal of selfishness which the world early pours, from a thousand in- visib1e inlets, into the heart and head, which some persons, indeed, seem to take in by their very poles. Circumstances, too, had ailed in obliterating all that nature might have given of good in his character, and in fostering all that ext ample might offer of evil, to Major De Grey. We are all selfish enough, Heaven knows, originally, men and women too; and I am inclined to think that in women faults of temper, certain indications of this evil disposition, preponderate; yet some persons, experienced in their way, are free to hazard this opinion,—namely, that if there be a man born in this world naturally and ub principeo disinterested, he must be a lusus rtutune unknown to mothers and nurses; who have, from time immemorial, according to report, seen the boy, in a surpassing degree to his sister babes, display those qualities in the cradle which eventually constitute the man of the world,—selfishness, pride, ob- stinacy, love of destruction of the property of others, an unwarrantable degree of welf.appropriation. These, and many other imputed natural defects, may be, and they are, coons teracted in ntany instances by the careful influence of tender parents, and by the eultivee of gentle affections hum the very first dawn of reason. But in Major De Grey the benignant influence of women, whether in the maternal or conjugal character, had never been experienced. Her pernicinus influence, her power to raise all that is dangerous and corrupt, and to wither, in an doing, all that is of promise and of moral beauty, he had fully and wofully experienced. Hence many traits in his conduct anal featuree in his opinions, which remain to be unfolal..d in the mese of this narrative. It is tiue that, since the hey. day 41 youth, when the fever of fully was at its crisis, many ye-ire had elapsed, during which some change must necestarily have taken place in his habits, much reformation have been visible in his conduct. The danger of his ex- ample to others had in some measure sultsided ; but with it are gone all that there is of gay and gallant in the deportment of the profligate man. The heart It el nut been ;intended ; there was mote catttion, more decormn, more moraliiy, or at least more moralizing, in the Major ; but let the commendation, if commendation it be, extend no further.
PROFESSIONAL COUNTRY SOCIETY.
There is one class of people whom the great cannot so easily offend, those whose interest is hound tap in their superiors : neither the physician, the clergyaf1311, nor the lawyer, in Lady Annabetta's immediate vicinity, could ;And so expensive an article as dignity. The country was scant if population, and the ph) skim might have lost half his practice had he stood upon Bilks; the attorney took all Lely Annaltetta's fancies as a matter of !tunnels,' ; and the clergyman of the parish had, from a boy, his father having had the living of Grilistead before Ii urn, been sent up to the ball to play at battledore and shuttle. cock with Miss De Grey, and to garden and walk with her, until a far later period of age than most prudent parents would have allowed. These respective and worthy furl ion:tries were pretty close in their satellitisan whilst Major De f:ta. was in London 1Vhen he was at the hall, he gently bowed them out ; but they all returned, like Lt swarm of flies after rain, as soon as he turned his back.
COUNTRY A,;SIZES.
Pristwhaises hurrying in, large blue hies hurried nut of them. Creatures with cauliflawer rips, looking a+ if they Is el stepped mit of some old picture-
dangling aloud ; merry, some grave, all with an abd-rd good
,if dwir ,r1Ves, ;. ill•ri 01 LoV, tam,hula, licP1s, a
vast dral of assurance on their faces. Every small atul great lodging en.
gaged ; worthy citizens turned out of their very beds. Then a flourish of trumpets• enter the judges; forthwith the business, the business of life and death, isiegitn. There is nothing socheerful as county aasizes. Trials, grave and long. are (ferried on, brought to a conclusion, and ended with a ball. The bell which tolled fur some erring soul to take its departure in the morning, /jugs gaily to commemorate the assize ball in the evening. The morrow- tbat morrow which cames not to the felon—sees judges, jury, counsel, attornies,
witnesseN, wigs, gowns, briefs and all other appm•tenances, bust ' le out • and the town is left to a calm, more felt than heretofore, if not really more profound.
A CLERICAL TOAD.EATER.
The Reverend Walter Horne was viear of the parish of Grinstead, as tie father had been before him. From his birth upwards having been always accounted a " good boy,"—that is, a creature who does not fulfil his destiny, which ie to be, like other boys, violent, headstrong, and disagreeable, until the spirit of evil is crushed within them, (if that ever is, )—having borne this re- markable character, Walter, several years older than Miss De Grey, was sent for from the vicarage to play with her on rainy days, be " gonse" to her &fox." to let her catch him at blindinan's buff, or heat him at draughts; all of which his nature took to very kindly, for he was an amiable, meek creature, rather " soft," as the Derbyshire people say, and one who would never do any- body any harm. He was nurtured under such an hereditary veneration for the "louse of De Grey, that to think of contradicting or disobeying Miss Florence was an idea that never intruded into his not very discursive imagination. He Went away, with all his provincial prejudices, to college, and came back again, to becurate to his father, without parting tvith a single one of them. By great good luck, he had a fever at Oxfoid, which served as an excuse to his fiiends for 3nany small defects of mind and person. llis hair was thin and lank—which was awing to the fever ; his complexion sallow—which was all the fever ; his man- ner very nervous—sure to be owing to the fever; his memory not very capital just owing to the fever ; his growth stunted—again the fever ; his style of preaching languid, and his voice mumbling—decidedly the fever. To sum up the whole, the Revereud Walter was no friend to the letter H, as generally ac- cepted in our language,—he taught the good people of Grinstead to believe that jai the hind of Goshen " there was no ale this might be the effect of the fever, which had made him forget the use of one consonant—a trifle—but a Letter creature than Walter never existed, nor a man who had in greater per- fection the organ of veneration. " The Hall !"—august sound—comprised all that was important, interesting, and valuable in life. " The family at the Hall," was uttered by this misused young gentleman, for he was Miss De Grey's slave, with an emphasis, or ore rotundo, such as you may conceive that to have been with which Sully mentioned his Royal Master—or Sidney, Queen Eliza. beth—or Flora Macdonald, the House of Stuart.
WOMEN IN LOVE.
What capital diplomatists men are in love matters ; and how eiger is simple, vain woman, to believe them all that is disinterested and high-mintled, because they can seater a little gold-dust upon the surface of that hollow mine of selfishness within their bosoms ! For women, acute and well-judging in other subjects, are blind as beetles when a man addresses the language of love to them : a moral mist rises before their understandings; they become credulous as bigots ; and the poor man, even if his suit be hopeless, is instantly invested ?nth some sort of merit, by virtue of the tender pas.ion. It is remarkable, too, that, in the inverse ratio to other things, experience in these affairs seems tot only to avail a woman nothing, but to throw her cif her guard. " To re- fuse twenty good offets, and marry an apprentice at thirty," is next to a pro- verb. Well-seasoned hearts, perforated by many an arrow from love's quiver, Lave always some weak part in them, and yield, often in a minute. For my own part, front intimate observation of my own sex—the result of many friendly confidings in thise matters—I would sooner trust the discernment of sixteeu on such points than of six-and-thirty; and whilst it is usual to talk of the dangers of eighteen and the folly of young girls, the moralist who wishes well to womankind should point out the shoals of eight-and.thirty, the extreme rashness of forty, the next to madness of forty-five.
A MILITIA CAPTAIN (BY COURTESY) AND Ills FRENCH.
Precious Captain Dalton, like most m,•n who have little to do, thought a good deal of himself. He was one of the class who may be called " obtru- swes "—once admitted, he could never be kept out ; and, visiting with his mamma occasionally at the "White Ladies," he began to look in there whenever Le pleased; dropped in of an evening, a la Sir Cecil, and attached himself as a lover, at an infinite distance, it la Sir Cecil, of the elder Mademoiselle De l'Amand.
She looked at him as a mastiff looks at a troublesome cur, giving him a shake itf now and then, and wondeting what right or business he bad to lift Ls small gray eyes upon her with so meaning, or would-be meaning, an ex- pression; but further she troubled herself not ithout him. • "
The Captain's attempts at French were delicious. A newly-fledged French talker, armed with verbs and ainmunitioned with lately.leinned vocabulary sod rules, is indeed one of the richest treats that a brother blunderer in the Gallic language can encounter. " Auiuuz tons its .deurs, et ks oiseaux I " the Captain ventured one morn- ing, in a (limped, noneing tone, after conning it over within his own mind for some time, to say. . Eugenie, for whose sake this grand effort was made, turned on him a look Lalhsurprised, lialf-contemptuousc.but vastly polite withal, as she exclaimed, "Mois oui, Monsieur !" with a look of inquiry ; as touch as to say, " Any pal ticoLir iii iii attaching to me upon the subject ? " The Captain's pale face was stutliustul ; hut assurance carried him on in life " Les serins?" he asked, in an imptiting tone, confident of being right ; for the best of reasons—having looked it out beforehand. Ile laid one finger
upon a birdwage, which, divided into many c partments, was set tint in the Slit on this tile warm autumnal (lay. Eugenie bowed assent ; and, as politely as shetfled out of his way. " %Ws dome—donee! " filtered the Captain perseveringly.
" Y(i.s, Sir," answeted Eugenic, desirous of relieving his embarrassment, by enabling him, if he wished to catty on the c..tiversati )))) , to do so in Eng- " he voice of that bird sings very sweet when it is at liberty—left to itself, which most nelson do like—human being as as-ell as bit d." " Yes," returned the Captain, glibly ; " we none of us like captivity. I can Speak to that ; for I was ordered to the guard. ruin once, when our corps was It Coventry, 31 dl can't say I liked it" t" 6 such idiom in your language as to be sent to Coventry ; is not it at?" asked Eugenie, with an undesigning air. " You know what that twan."
„ " Jonoris," stammered the Captain, resolved to be gallant in French, the ianguage of gallantry • "jamais, (rune dame—ou," he ;Wed, considering. Jr eeux dire, d'une'demoiselle—nous—mins (now hang these verbs !) nous tr is:sm ions noon pas supporter—retie sniplier, Mademoiselle." " Pardon, Monsieur," was Eugenie's gentle mode of giving him to under • stand that she did not make out one word of what he said. She bowed as she
The Captain bowed too ; fee he thought some compliment was in- tendtd.
I should be so happy," he began again, in vulgar English, " to have your i",ltnclions in Frem•h, MatIcinnisclle ; On W11111■1 ti.11.11 II so prettily." "Sr!" exclaimed Eugenie, thawing up; but her dark eye, flashiug as it was, was caught by the aspect of a party who were just then entering u garden of the " White Ladies."
" Ced Mujeur and ltlademoiselle De Grey, du Pare," the C.,. ...I went on, as if he had been condemned, under a penalty. to speak French. it Monsieur Gerald leur consine. (Now, hang it, if I don't get on, though. '
A CAPT.% IN OF HUSSARS.
"You are gaing to the review ?" asked Lord Forttose, careles- just taking a corner Warier ut Captain Dalton.
" Ye-a, uuf 1.11l1r.r," returned the Captain, jo!, fully " allow tri.• introduce my friend, Captain Hussey of the Eighth Ilussars,"—shoving ii lie elbow a youog gentleman. who, on the stiengtli 1)f introdueed to in boil, preci- pitately drew on a new pair of leinou coloured gloves ; thus look n when quite completed, like a figure iii a ready made clotle•s-shop. Hi. coat • as p'tstered to his exp wiling shoulders and diminished waist ; his trousers w • 1: it,:tle-s of a crease ; his face was finished eff arcordiug to every rule of Ir.....•(, yet not handsome. Fine eyes, fine hair, flue teeth, a regular Roman ROSe, -ii but clear
complexion, whiskers irreproichable, neither too huge our tot( • a illus.
tachio on the upper lip, just the uight height, to a nicety lie wanted nothing, poor man, but a few grains of intellect to light up thus, blight bead- like eyes of his.
MAN'S INCONSTANCY.
Inconstancy, after a certain age, becoitws in men CO fixed a habit, that even the virtues of an angel enuld not secure more than a transient Drop by drop the ft nuidation of their moral eh iracter is worn away, like t soft sand-
stone underneath the crystal fountain. until right and wrong ate altogether confounded, or at least the terms inclination and disinclination aie ..olistituted in their stead.
SELEPHINESS IN WOMEN.
When women once permit themselves to Ire •olely influenced hy interested views, they are much more resolute and persevering in these matte, • thin men. Although capable of great and disinterested actions, their besetting sit. is avatice. From the nature of their position in society, they may make Wally -crifices to this alesorbing passion which men could not do without publicity awl animad- version avarice or se:f-interest. therefwe, when once interwovema with the female character, runs not the imminent risk of being driven out by exposure or visited with shame. which it usually incurs in Men of the slaw ihspusitions.
mons'. .414D INTELLECTUAL QUALITIES.
Moral qualities have even a gieater influence in domestic life th in those of the intellect ; bu - when, im Hid in hand, they mingle in the business and plea- sures of existence, their puwer over others is as delightful as tt. is rrinauent.