The Press.
London, England, 1857-12-26 00:00:00

women are much less prone to literary imitation
than men. Perhaps their " individuality " is
stronger. Be that as it may, Mrs. Thomson has
produced an interesting and sometimes brilliant
novel, and we are much mistaken if the majority of
our readers do not like it as well as any on our list.
4. If the reader of this article, when in a novel-
reading humour, should be unable to obtain either of
the three preceding works, he may find a tolerable
substitute (sed Longo intervallo; in "The Gables."
The story is not badly constructed, and the life
described and the characters introduced are for the
most part faithful to nature. The heroine is clever and
amiable without being insipid, and is something like
a gentler—and infinitely pleasanter—sister of the
young lady who falls a victim to " caste." Her
unrequited attachment for the worthy curate, which
occupies the commencement of the book, is well
described, and, so far as we are able to judge, not
overdrawn either in conception or execution. The
" criminal business " of the plot is less praiseworthy,
for here it is evident that the authoress has not
drawn on her experience or knowledge of life, but on
the conventionalities of traditionary fiction. We
must also protest most strongly against the vraisem-
blance of the character of Mr. Langton, who is
described as a popular and really able magazine-
writer, but who displays in his home circle and in
the conduct of affairs generally the dreamy careless-
ness and indifference to external matters of a Newton
or an Archimedes. Does the authoress know any
" popular magazine-writers "? We do ; and, so far
from being addicted to " wool-gathering," or deaf to
the dinner-bell, we have always found theni espe-
cially wide awake, and anything but indifferent to
their meals. If the writer of " The Gables " had
been of the opposite sex we should have recom-
mended a course of Fleet street dinners, before
introducing popular authors into another story.
5. "Early Struggles" is a tedious and mawkish
novel, pervaded by an insipid goodness and weakness
in its characters, and told in a way to drive an im-
patient reader distracted. Like the slow tales of the
last century, the characters who are introduced full-
grown "begin as follows," and have a chapter to
themselves for telling their story. Every incident is
spun out in the most circumstantial and wearisome
style, and thus page after page may be read, as they
say, "with the fingers." The heroine (whose " early
struggles," by the way, end in the first two or three
chapters, so that the title is a misnomer) is an
orphan, and is adopted by a recluse young studnnt
in the country, with whom, when old enough, site
falls in love after the Heloise fashion, but modestly.
Her tutor, after being jilted by an aristocratic flirt,
turns for consolation to his domestic angel ; but the
two stupid people (both of whom are "popular maga-
zine-writers," and ther?fore blind and deaf) do not
find each other out—a thing which, independent of
their literary character, a lady of great experience
a-sures us is simply impossible. The young person
is finally carried off by a returned Indian uncle, and,
still in love with her tutor, is married against her will
to another man whom she detests. The marriage
service is read over the uncle's deathbed, and she is
described as supposing it to be the Prayers for the
Sick ! " When the fatal ring was being forced on
" her finger, her tongue clove to the roof of her
" mouth, her nerveless hand remained motionless,"
&e. The husband gets killed, and the lovers
are ultimately united, which is better fortune than
such very silly people deserved. Both this book and
" The Gables" are atrociously printed—a fault ex-
ceedingly detrimental to the success of a work, and
one for which Mr. Newby's publications are almost
al ways remarkable.

di 6. There is so much gracefulness of conception and
elegance of style about " Tile Lily of Glynne " that
we feel the authoress to have done injustice both to
herself and us by the sketchy manner in which the
characters are described, and the disproportionate
space which is assigned to a number of disagreeable
or insignificant people. The personages of her tole
fail to excite interest because they are incomplete.
A dash of local colour is given to them at first, and
this feature is insisted on wherever they are after-
wards introduced. Thus they become, not human
beings, but mere embodiments of particelar qualities.
There is also a degree of extravagance in certain
parts of the plot—as, for instance, where the heroine
is taken home by a lady to be her governess and
never thinks of asking har employer's name, or
where she is married against her will without making
any protest. Owing to these faults, the story, which
naturally has many elements of interest, produces on
us the effects of an opium dream, and seems to have
almost as l►ttle to do with reality as the action of a
Christmas pantomime. The autobiographical method
of narration, too, has something to answer for in en-
hancing these defects. In spite of them, however,
we shall always look with interest for succeeding
navels by the same authoress, for she has much
originality, has evidently looked on life with her own
eyes, understands the classes which she describe',
and writes like a lady, and not like a lady's maid.