The Press. — London, England, 1856-08-16 00:00:00

AUGUST 16, 1856. mote the chance of her liberation? When she was dead, what was the use of it? Why commit so dangerous a crime for nothing? Those who were anxious only to clear her memory would not have been the kind of per sons likely to commit forgery. But even if the confession be given up, the weight of evidence is still in Mary's favour. The only real argument in favour of her complicity with Bothwell in the matter of the abduction rests on certain love•letters and sonnets, which Tytler and Goodall demon strated to be forgeries nearly a hundred years ago. The letters brought forward at the trial its Mary's own writing were in French, and some Scotch copies afterwards got abroad pur porting to be a translation of them. Mr. Goodall was the first, we believe, who pointed out that the French was in reality a transla tion from the Scotch, and not the Scotch from the French, thus demonstrating the artifice resorted to beyond all controversy, But, says the Professor : Tf any one should still entertain a doubt as to that, let him remember that the letters, if genuine, must have been in the hands of Murray and Morton six months be fire the act for Bothwell's forfeiture was passed, and that, according to their tenor, the narrative of the act was false. This is one of the moat remarkable instances in history tending to show that deliberate villany leads to inextricable contradictions. If the letters said to be written by Mary to Bothwell were genuine—if they had even been forged at so early a period—is it conceivable that Murray, with such evidence in his hands, would, as Regent, have passed an act which expressly acquits Mary of all complicity with Bothwell? Be it remembered, also, that at the time when that act was passed, the Queen's cause was by no means desperate. A large party of the nobility and barons were convinced of her innoc .nce, indignant at the treachery which had been used towards her, and determined to rein state her on the throne ; and therefore the dominant faction was little likely to omit any opportunity of casting a stain upon her character. In regard to the passion said to have been en tertained by Mary for Bothwell, the Professor quotes the following:— _ _ . But take Melville's account of what followed the nuptials : " When 1 returned to Edinburgh, I dealt with Sir James Balfour not to part with the Castle, whereby he might be an instrument to save the Prince and the Queen, who was so disdainfully handled, and with such reproachful language, that, in presence of Arthur Areskine, I heard her uk for a knife to stab herself, or else, said she, I shall drown myself." Five days after the marriage, Drury, writing to Cecil, said, " The opinion of divers is that the Queen is the most changed woman in face, that in so little a time, without extremity of sickness, they have seen ;" and on the very day after the marriage, she said to De Croc, the French Ambassador, " that he must not be surprised if he saw her sorrowful, for she could not rejoice, nor ever should again : all she desired was death." Such were the manifestations of the vehement and passionate love which some historians would have us to believe that Mary felt for Bothwell! Professor Aytoun has produced a fine poem and an able argument, and " Bothwell" will assuredly take its stand among the classics of Scotch literature. The Huguenot Exiles ; or, the Times of Louis XIV. Au Historical Romance. London: Sampson Low and Co. At first sight it would appear that the story of the Huguenots driven from France ought to give a good basis for an historical novel. Hairbreadth escapes, thrilling adventures, contrasts of character, and romantic enthu siasm, might naturally be looked for in its pages; but, on closer reflection, it would be seen that the choice of such a subject, to an English or American pen, must have serious difficulties. For, in order to have the colour of truth, the action of the story should sparkle with the points of French character. Its dramatis persona should have the fiery valour of French men, and the sentimental delicacy of French women. A series of characters taken from the ordinary types of society, as it exists in any country, would not be suitable for such a novel. In " Cinq Mars " (perhaps the best of French historical novels) the tone, style, and mannerism are thoroughly French; and in " I Promessi Sposi " the characters are not only Italian, but thoroughly Romanist, after the peculiar conception of Manzoni It would be most difficult, as we apprehend, for an English author to compose a truthful historical fiction on the story of the Hugue nots. Scott's "Quentin Durward" repre sented a mediaeval period, when chivalry was Common to Germany, France, and England, and the military life of that period was the THE PRESS. main "historical " element relied on in that novel. The character of Louis XI. was ably and artistically drawn, and for its execution there were all the resources of history and biography. But though Scott could admirably depict the Covenanters in " Old Mortality," his pen would have failed in giving us a lively and brilliant picture of the Huguenots, for the reasons we have already indicated. Other reasons, also, make the story of the Huguenots a difficult subject for a novelist. Polemical life always harrows the feelings. Au irritating, vexatious, and unsatisfactory element hangs over every novel, when one side appears in bright and the other in dark colours. The characters and incidents seem as if they were bespoken, lacking the sponta neity that is to be found in broad and general human nature. Besides, the subject is rather used up. Much moral indignation has already been expended on the theme. The particulars are known, unlike the case of those Scottish contests which Scott first painted to the world in detail. The difficulties which we have specified have not been surmounted by the writer before us. The characters are all stale, and there is no fresh conception in his pages. The landscapes, the climate, the serene sky, and the wide rivers of France, with its curious chateaux, the many-coloured costume of the population, the airy gaiety of the French noblesse, do not appear in his work, where from first to last we meet with a plain, sensible style, which neither sinks nor rises beyond the conventional standard. Father Antoine, the cruel Romish priest, and a chief person in the plot, is not drawn in keeping with human nature. Thus, we are told:— Naturally of a stern, unyielding temper, with nerves of steel and will of iron, intolerance was his birthright and fanaticism his inheritance. The bloodstained chronicles of thA Old Testament were his favorite reading, and from them he drew argu ments to sustain the course of Louis against the subjects ho was bound by every law, both human and divine, to protect. He moved with quick and cautious steps, with bowed head, but his darkly-glancing eyes saw every thing around him. All that indicates a hard, stern type of cha racter. Yet this personage is also described as a sort of metaphysical sensualist, his private luxuries and his voluptuous habits being de tailed. His apartments are delineated with that luxe of style familiar to the readers of Sue and Dumas ; and the author before us can describe " interiors " with skill, as the follow ing passage testifies : Within was found the pleasant shadow of trees, the odour of flowers, and the murmur of falling water from fountains used to irrigate the shrubbery. An open colon- nade, supported by Corinthian pillars, extended the whole length of the building on the side next the garden ; and after passing through this without encountering any one, the abbot entered a room of fair proportions fitted up as a library—for his order cultivates learning and literature more than any other in the Romish Church. Massive tookcases, grotesquely carved, were filled with antique tomes, many of them highly illuminated and of almost priceless value. A lamp of silver, of au exquisite arabesque pattern, shed a soft light throughout the room, and beneath its brightest rays was placed a mosaic table, a present from the Pope, and a specimen of the rarest work of the kind which bail then been produced in Italy. An o p en mis s al, the margin of which was enriched with gems, lay upon it, and the rosary that rested beside it was of emeralds of the purest water, which flashed back the flickering rays of light as the lamp swung to and fro in the night breeze. Several pictures of rare merit hung on the walls—one of the Virgin Mar►, with all the sensuous beauty given to her by many of the old masters, looked out from the canvas almost like a thing of life. But Father Antoine cannot people his " in teriors " with living natures. the offers us in stead waxworks moved by machinery. Thus, he had a splendid picture gallery : The walls were covered with pictures representing the beautiful women of the Bible, and the painters had cer• tainly imagined among them every• type of loveliness which the female form assumes. From the fair•haired daughters of the North to the dusky beauty of the Tropics, all were there ; and but for the names with which they were la belled, the beholder would scarcely have recognised them as representatives of the Hebrew race. A passionate admirer of beauty in all its varied forms, Father Antoine consoled himself for his outward ascetism by surronnding himself in his hours of relaxation with shapes of loveliness. which he appreciated as the intelleo trial and solitary recluse, shut out from congenial compa nionship, appreciates his books. They are silent friends to which he may turn as inclination leads him, and the priest could gaze on each pictured form without fear of caprice or coquetry. The fa►r beauty could not frown and 785 utter cutting words uhe turned toward a rival : all smiled alike on him, and he was oontent. Then the priest apostrophises some of them in the following fashion : " Beautiful and strong soul !" he muttered; " had I met your counterpart, my heart might have gone forth to claim its mate, but no woman of mortal mould hive I yet seen who caused me for one moment to regret my vow of ce libacy. Lovely phantoms! creatures of impulse given to man for his torment, I repudiate ye all, though I worship the outward garb of loveliness with which the Creator has invested so many of ye." He turned to the next picture. It represented a fair girl with golden hair, and eyes of such soft and dreamy beauty as might stir the fancy of an anchorite. This was labelled Jeptha's daughter, and long and earnest was ihe gaze that dwelt upon it. He turned away with a half agh as he muttered, " If those were living eyes, and looked thus into mine, I might be tempted to forget that I have repudiat. d every human emotion, save devotion to the cause of my only bride, the true Church of the living God." We could understand a sacerdotal Shelley, an idealist and a priest, thus allowing himself to feed his intellect in these pictorial raptures and imaginative colloquies ; but Father An toine, on the same page, is represented as enjoying coarser pleasures. The " gusto of an epicure" (aud other accessories we need not not quote) introduces incongruous elements into the character, and in a similar way throughout this fietion. Yet there are parts of it which suggest that if this author studied character more, he might achieve success. His style is smooth and finished, and indicates a cultured intellect; but why does he not apply tis talents to an American subject, on which e would have more special knowledge of life? It is worthy of notice, that the history and traditions of Protestantism, as opposed to Roman Catholicism, appear to excite now considerable attention in the American literary circles. Some years ago the tone at Boston and other places upon religion was pointed towards a cold cosmopolitanism ; but of late there has been a decided reaction in the States towards Protestant sentiment and opinion, and it influences the literature of the Great Republic. What an extraordinary social con trast is presented between the Anglo-Saxous in North America and the degenerate Spanish colonists in the southern continent of the New World ! The Duties of the Parish Priest. By the Rev. J. J. Blunt, B.D. London : Murray. No doubt there are persons among the Eng lish clergy to whom this work of Mr. Blunt will prove a useful assistant, but we do not think they arc many, or such as are likely to become the brightest ornaments of their pro• fession. Mr. Blunt is very sound and very slow. His advice is all of the molt fastidiously orthodox character. The young curate who models his conduct upon it will be, we may be sure, one of the most regular men in the diocese, his days rigidly divided into "so many hours" for each sort of work, and his coat, waistcoat, and shoes all of the most un impeachable clerical fashion. We have seldom indeed met with anything more truly excellent or more truly commonplace than these lec tures. They do not contain a single word we could object to, or a single thought that is striking. It is rather an outrage on the un derstanding of the clergy to imagine they required to be schooled after so very super ficial a style. Mr. Blunt tells his hearers what their duties are, but he never• really grapples with the difficulties they will en counter in the performance of them. Let us take, for instance, the two lectures entitled " Parochial Ministrations," and " Pastoral Conversation." Here is a passage from his remarks on the visitation of the sick : You have the chance of offering the weightiest admoni tions to others through the mouth of their dying friend, who will be only too glad to do nod service then as v. , u may prompt him ; and will bequeath at your recommend,. tion godly precepts for the better government of his holm. hold, which will live and operate when he is no more. Yon may thus, for instance, introduce the use of family prayers under a roof where they were before neglected, or attendance at the Table of the Lord amongst parties who had before despised it—an advantage to which to turn the latter days of an expiring man worthy of the Pastor of our Church; and better than that of the confessor of old of whom we read, who would profit by such moments to remind his victim that the convent owed forty pound for stones.' You have the opportunity presented to you for supplying the cottage with a tract or two that may suit, and even the mansion, with some memento of a warning