The Sun.
London, England, 1855-12-06 00:00:00

LITERATURE.

Lilliesleaf. By the Author of " Margaret Mait-
land," &c. 3 vols. Hurst and Blackett.

This work, we are informed at the commence-
ment, is a concluding series to the " Passages in
the Life of Mrs. Margaret Maitland of Sunnyside,"
which some time ago appeared. The numerous
readers who admired and appreciated that excel-
lent production will be gratified to renew their in-
tercourse with so pleasing a circle as the one which
is there met with ; while those unacquainted with
the previous story will find no difficulty in enter-
ing at once into the interest and being acquainted
in the details. In this particular the plot is ex-
ceedingly well arranged, the authoress having con-
nected the links of the two narratives so that they
might be read as one, while at the same time this
second division could be perused per se, without
diminution to its comprehensiveness or effect. The
change we mark is the natural one, to be expected
no less from the lapse of time than from the effects
of circumstances. The characters have not altered
in themselves, but the great difference of the posi-
tions in which they are placed calls forth other
qualities and developes hidden traits. Mary, the
daughter of the Manse, the niece of Mrs. Margaret,
is the most interesting of the group. The trials
and doubts that she encountered in youth were
nothing to the cares and troubles that are here
chronicled. Grace, on the contrary, was almost
entirely sheltered from the storms that lowered
over the dwelling of her early friend. Allan Elphin-
stone of Lilliesleaf, who was the husband of Mary,
was not to be compared to Claud Maitland, who
married Grace. Allan was possessed of a restless
spirit, and, with a good disposition and excellent
intentions, he wanted stability and was deficient in
self-control. There could not have been more try-
ing deficiencies to one who, like Mary, had been
bred up all her life in strict rule and principles—
who had the highest motives for exertion, and the
purest pleasure in their fulfilment. There was
more of romance in the circumstances of Grace and
her young sister Rhoda, but the interest is attracted
to Mary; she is the centre to which the thoughts turn
and the object on which the attention fixes. No
one can fail to be concerned in her behalf. She
appears so true to herself and to her family—too
generous to allow to any one that it is her husband
who is in fault, while at the same time she will
not deny her own convictions, nor sacrifice her
principles of right to present convenience. She
might have joined Allan, and left behind her the
plans of her y oung days, or she might have set
herself up as an isolated instance of virtue beside
her husband and his giddy set. But she contrived
to effect the change by adopting neither course.
Mary had early learnt not to be conformed to the
world ; but the work of her maturity was to in-
duce her husband to fulfil the harder task of being
transformed from the world, in which he took no
real interest, nor derived any substantial enjoy-
ment. Not that she desired him to stay at home.
The possessor of large estates had many public
duties to perform, and must necessarily mix much
in society ; but then Mary desired that he should
aspire to an exalted standard, and be intimate with
the noble in spirit, the upright in conduct, and
the superior in intellect. Allan had chosen the
most frivolous of the differing grades of society,
and it was not in such an atmosphere that his cha-
racter could derive vigour, or his good feelings and
impulses have scope for advance or development.
Grace's trials were totally different, but during
the comparatively brief period of their duration
they were severe. Her father was a most unfeeling
and unprincipled man, and could not but he con-
trary to Grace in all his undertakings. Not con-
tent with trying to rob her of her mother's pro-
perty, he was constantly importuning her for money,
and at last insisted on leaving in Grace's care her
step-sister Rhoda. Grace would willingly have re-
fused, but she knew not how to reconcile to herself
leaving the young girl to the care of such a man,
while in her quiet home she might learn right, or
would be sheltered from wrong at least. Rhoda
came, and very little peace was there for a time at
Oakenshaw. She would not be satisfied, and,
with her vagaries and impatience, she ren-
dered every one as unsettled and un-
purpose-like as herself. It was some time
before the benign influence of Aunt Margaret
could at all calm or pacify this unruly guest, but
after a little while her gentle but firm manner had
some effect. Rhoda is what a passionate affec-
tionate disposition may be imagined to be ; with no
ono to direct her or gain any of her confidence
from attachment she suffered greatly. Yet with
all the better nature shining through the clouds of
her errors, she does not attach or interest like
Grace or Mary. It is to be questioned if any of
the characters possess the genuine simplicity and
earnest devotion of the narrator of the passages
here described. In her calm retirement years
passed by Margaret Maitland without working
any of those deadly changes, or exerting any of
those baneful influences, which those experience
who are engaged in the turmoil of the world, or
mixed up with the hardening cares of social exis-
tence. There appears truth in the remark she
made at the conclusion, that "it takes the like of
me, a single gentlewoman, unacquainted with fash
and trouble, to carry pure to the end of mortal
days the first grand thoughts of youth." It might
be declared with appropriateness of the declining
years of such an existence—

"Thy thoughts and feelings shall not die,
Nor leave thee, when grey hairs are nigh,
A melancholy slave ;
But an old age, serene and bright,
And lovely as a Lapland night,
Shall light thee to the grave."

There is a pleasure to be derived from the perusal
of works like the one before us that the most bril-
liant compositions may not always afford, and an
advantage to be gained that mere power of
language, or graces of expression, may not
possess. We feel that what passes before
us is natural, that the real and likely are
described in life, both in thought and action. In
the details of the simplest occurrences in the home
life of Grace or Mary there is truth, and that is so
well depicted in all the various phases of their
careers that the impression is vivid and the realisa-
tion complete. Whether it be a solemn warning or
a simple lesson to be conveyed there is no disguise
or mystery ; we " learn from the wisdom of age,
and are cheered by the sallies of youth." There is
n)t the same grandeur that characterises "Adam
Gramme of Mossgrey" to be recognised in these
pages, nor are they endued with the same attract-
ing interest that so enthrals the attention of the
reader of " Harry Muir." Many may prefer the
first portion of the story, when Grace and Mary
appeared in their spring of youth, to the latter days
of the strife and struggles of maturity ; but for all
these objections or counter-attractions there is an
undeniable merit apparent in " and a
charm in the conclusion of a noble life, that awakens
sympathy and engages admiration. The pure in
purpose, the lofty in thought, the glorious in ac-
tion, are the themes here descanted upon, and the
deeds here wrought. The lover of simple narrative
will be pleased by the conciseness of the plot, and
the few characters met with, while the thinker will
acknowledge the influence of those better feelings,
those mighty aspirations, that give principle to be
the guide of motives, and inspire the spirit of self-
sacrifice and devotion. We are shown in their
native energy and intrinsic strength those bright
and enduring qualities and attributes which ap-
proach the most nearly to the standard of excel-
lence, and adorn and elevate the mean and simple
of human existence.

Men and Wemen. By Robert Browning. 2 vols.
Chapman and Hall.
Fifty portraits of men and women, lightly
sketched off in profile by, the cunning hand of the
author of " Paracelsus.' Blooming with youth,
wrinkled with age, ugly as sin, beautiful as virtue,
gentle and simple, matron and maiden, bearded
veteran and smooth faced stripling—here they se-
verally are, one and all pencilled delicately in
pen-and-ink miniatures, kit-cat, full-length, sit-
ting, standing, some of them, indeed, literally
speaking likenesses. It is by a happy thought that
Mr. Browning has thus strung together as in a
motley coronal fugitive pieces, as varied in sparkle,
and colour, and value, as would be a circlet formed
of gold, and lead, and silver, and tinfoil, and peb-
bles, and pearls, and bits of coloured glass--beryl,
and flint, and topaz, and clay, and malachite.
For the several fragments making up the whole of
this Strange poetic chaplet are no less singularly
contrasted with each other than materials thus
respectively, as the case may chance to be, most
precious or most worthless. It is as if we had had
poured into our hands the unsifted produce of some
rich digging newly discovered and hastily worked
upon the auriferous banks of the grand old Pac-
tolus—an occasional nugget of rare size and purity
glittering out among a predominating mass of
commonest sand and rubble. Mr. Browning comes
anew before h is readers with this advantage--that
it is now some time since the issue of his last me-
trical production. He has this no less obvi-
ous disadvantage, however that that last
effusion of his was an egregious failure to all
intents and purposes. We speak, of course, in
allusion to his scareely comprehensible and decidedly
repulsive poem entitled "Christmas Eve and Easter
Day"—a poem wholly unadorned by a single
beauty, save in the instance of one solitary couplet
where the fountains in the Piazza of St. Peter's, at
Rome, were exquisitely described as--
" Growing up eternally
Each like a musical water-tree '"
Disappointed, however, in the instance of this
latest OUtPOUrbag Of our alithoeo thoughts in yer-

sification, we could not but remember with plea-
sure many another worthier ebullition of his ge-
nius. Whether we laid aside with the sadness of
chagrin " Christmas Eve and Easter Day," or, on
the other hand, took up " Men and Women" with
the eagerness of expectation, we could not but
call to mind with a deep sense of intellectual obli-
gation the music and the fragrance resulting from
the concord and the beauty of his " Bells and
Pomegranates." We could not but muse with a
certain degree of satisfaction over the memories of
the dim " Sordello " and of the mysterious " Para-
celsus." We could not but recognise the high dra-
matic power manifested in " The Blot on the
'Scutcheon." Above all, we could not but cherish in
our most grateful recollection the lyrical splendour
of "Pippa Passes"—to our mind Robert Browning's
undoubted masterpiece. Remembering " Pippa
Passes" thus gratefully, although we were driven
perforce to cast aside with scorn the moon-struck
rhapsody of " Christmas Eve and Easter Day,"
we have recently taken up with hopeful curiosity
the two newly-printed volumes of verse from the
same hand, quaintly designated for want of some
better title " Men and Women." The leaves of
these volumes we have since then turned over
with varying sensations of satisfaction and disap-
pointment. We have been revolted, for example,
by the clever flippancy of " Bishop Blougram's
Apology"—an apology in which superstition and
irreligion are jumbled detestably together in very
frightful antithesis. We have been charmed by
the graces scattered profusely over the genial
stanzas dedicated to the subject of " Old Pic-
tures in Florence." We have listened with
alternating emotions to our author's mus-
ings comfortably "By the Fireside," and
picturesquely " Among the Ruins." We have
looked, with him, now "Up at the Villa," now
" Down in the City." We have heard him sing of
the corpse of " Evelyn Hope" and of the ghost of
" Fra Lippo Lippi"—celebrating here " A Tocatta
of Galuppi's," here again a fugue of " Master
Hugues of Saxe Gotha." Startled may be one
while by some such poetry as this :
" So your fugue broadens and thickens,
Greatens and deepens and lengthens,
Till one exclaims—' But where's music, the dickens ?
Blot ye the gold, while your spider-web strengthens,
131.,,keu to the stoutest of tickens "

Or bewildered by versification as incoherent as the
following—

" Who thinks Hugues wrote for the deaf ?
Proved a mere mountain in labour ?
Better submit—try again—what's the oleft ?
'Faith, it's no trifle for pipe and for tabor--
Four flats—the minor in F.
Friend, your fugue taxes the finger.
Learning it once, who would lose it ?
Yet all the while a misgiving will linger—
Truth's golden o'er us although we refuse it—
Nature, thro' dust-clouds we fling her !
Hugues I I advise meet panel,
neT
(Counterpointwo
Tghlraeree,s
Four,like Five,Gorgon)
word, straight I unstop the Full. Organ,
Blare out the mode Palestin I.
Bid oclear the arena !
Say the
While in the roof, if I'm right there—
...Lo, you, the wick, in the socket !
Hallo, you sacristan, show us a light there !
Down it dips, gone like a rocket
What, you want, do you, to come unawares,
Sweeping the church up for first morning prayers,
And find a poor devil at end of his cares
At the foot of your rotten-planked rat-riddled stairs !
Do I carry the moon in my pocket ?"
Dropping perchance at another moment upon a
crazy little scrap of interrogative quatrains such as
the subjoined—

" MEMORABILIA.
" Ah, did you once see Shelley plain.
And did he stop and speak to you ?
And did you speak to bin] again ?
How strange it seems, and new !
But you were living before that,
And you are living after,
And the memory I started at—
My starting moves your laughter !
I crossed a moor with a name of its own
And a use in the world no doubt,
Yet a hand's-breath of it shines alone
'Mid the blank miles round about—
For there I pinked up on the heather
And there I put inside my breast
A moulted feather, an eagle-feather—
Well, I forget the rest."

Decidedly, after all, we very much question whe-
ther a single one among these fifty minor poems by
Robert Browning can add one leaf of bay to the
garland worn by him for some time past as the poet
of " Pippa Passes," of the " Blot on the 'Scut-
cheon," of " Sordello," of " Paracelsus," and
(genw•ally) of "Bells and Pomegranates." Frag-
mentary verses "In Three Days," "In a Year,"
" In a Balcony," about " A Light Woman," and a
" Patriot," and " Before," and " After," and
" Popularity," and " Misconceptions," pieces re-
lating to "Saul," and '' Protus," and " Cleon,"
and " De Gustibus"—and for that matter, too, De
Oninibus—may be sprinkled sparsely here and
there with poetic beauties without materially tend-
ing in any way to enhance the writer's literary
reputation. Particularly when, as in the present
instance, these beauties are plentifully intermingled
with eccentricities, and prejudices, and absurdities,
and platitudes beyond the grasp of the most for-
bearing reader's capacity for either patience or for-
giveness. Altogether the ground opened to us by
this new work from the hand of Mr. Browning,
though it may be starred at intervals with the
primrose, and the violet, and the lily, and the car-
nation, is bristling all over,with the nettle, and
the thistle, and the burdock, with-
- " Agari, and fungi, and mildew, and mould"—
mental weeds, and brambles, and parasites, as un-
sightly as unprofitable.

The Life of Jeanne D' 41bret, Queen of Navarre.
By Martha Walker Freer. 2 vols. Hurst and
Biackett.
It will be remembered that some time ago a Life
of Marguerite D'Angoulerne, was published, being
the first that had ever appeared in this country.
The same authoress who so ably recounted the his-
tory of the brilliant sister of Francis the First has
now given us the memoirs of her daughter. very
different, however, are the histories of t he two suc-
cessive Queens of Navarre—one, the favourite of
the King, the idol of the court, surrounded from
her earliest youth by flatterers and admirers, with
almost paramount influence over her powerful bro-
ther ; and, though she favoured the new doctrines,
yet her support of them was rather evidenced by
the concessions she obtained for others than by
the persecutions she endured herself. Far other-
wise was it with her daughter. Of a more serious
and resolute disposition than her mother, Jeanne
had not that beauty and those winning manners
that endeared Queen Marguerite to all around her.
Her early education, too, was unfavourable ; by the
command of her uncle, Francis 1., she was brought
up alone in the gloomy castle of Plessis-les-Tours.
King Francis, who always regarded his brother-in-
law, Henry of Navarre, with jealousy and sus-
picion, feared that ho intended to bestow his
daughter's hand on Prince Philip of Spain. Sor-
row, deceit, and rebellion darkened the life of
Queen Jeanne. She met with neglect and insults
from the court over which her mother reigned pre-
eminent, her husband neglected and deserted her,
and the unhappy religious disputes of the period
sowed dissension among her subjects. Her unfail-
ing energy, great penetration, and undeviating rec-
titude of purpose, upheld her through all the snares
and misfortunes which lay in her path, and though
her zeal and warmth of temper led her to indiscreet
or extreme ants, still in that age of bigotry, perse-
cution, and intolerance, Queen Jeanne appears a
bright exception. She was possessed of great de-
termination of character, which manifested itself
at a very early age. King Francis had resolved
that she should marry the Duke of Cleves, the
brother of Henry the Eighth's fourth queen. To
this marriage the Princess Jeanne strongly objected,
and finding her entreaties of no avail she took the
extraordinary measure of drawing up a protest in
the presence of some of her household, both on the
day of her betrothal and of the marriage ceremony,
which was afterwards performed, though the Prin-
cess remained under the care of her mother. When
it is considered that the Princess had only com-
pleted her twelfth year this determination must be
regarded as singular, although it is supposed she
had the secret approbation of her father. King
Francis remained unmoved until the Duke of
Cleves, alarmed by. the presence of the Spanish
army, made submission to the Emperor, which so
affronted the French sovereign that he took his
niece's protests into consideration, and obtained a
dispensation annulling the marriage. Jeanne,
however, does not appear to have chosen very
wisely for herself, for Antoine de Bourbon, Duke
de Vendome, was a consort quite unworthy of her.
She survived him ten years, the most eventful of
her life, as sole ruler of Bearn and its adjacent
provinces, and guardian of her son, the great Henri
Quatre. She was the ruling spirit of the Huguenots,
their wisest counsellor, and in the hour of defeat
and despondency she was the one to rally and en-
courage them. Aided by great natural acuteness
and a love of truth, which enabled her to detect
its counterfeit, she alone, of all the Huguenot ,
leaders, put no faith in the treacherous over- I
tures of the Court. Catherine de Medicis
was her inveterate enemy. in
the foundn
the Queen of Navarre an opponent she
could -neithe bribe, intimidate,. nor deceive ;
and so well known was this aversion that, on the
death of Jeanne, it was everywhere believed by
the Huguenots that it was the work of poison. The
King himself is said to have given credence to the
rumour. A medical examination, however, proved
this accusation to be unjust. " While Jeanne

lived," says the writer, " her political sagacity
saved the leaders of the Huguenot party from the
snare subsequently laid for them by Catherine de
Medicis. Had she lived no such fatal slaughter
would, in all probability, have stained the annals
of French history." She always prevented the
simultaneous presence of the Huguenot chieftains
and their followers in Paris. her penetration saw
that it might be turned to their ruin, as was sub-
sequently the case, when King Charles, exasperated
by his mother's hints and the threats of the Hu-
guenots on the attempted assassination of Coligny,
was persuaded that they intended some hostile
demonstration in the streets of his capital.
The authoress has executed her task with ability
and success, and with a moderation and impartiality
which are especially to be commended. These
qualities, which are most valuable in an historical
writer, are more precious as well as more rare in
writing of such an age as that of Jeanne d'
Albre t,
when the bitterness and violence of religious in-
tolerance was at its height. The style is clear and
concise, as in the preceding work, without being
dry or uninteresting. Considering the great diffi-
culty of the task she has undertaken to a compa-
ratively inexperienced writer, the number of
moving characters, the vast importance of the po•
litical events, and the fact of its being, though a
distant era, one so conspicuous in the history of
nations that its chief features are known to most
readers, the authoress may be congratulated on the
successful result of her researches.

LAW INTELLIGENCE—(This Day.)

COURT OF QUEEN'S BENCH.
(Before Mr. Justice Erie and a Special Jury.)
THE QUEEN ON THE PROSECUTION OF ALEXANDER
11`GEACHT ALLETNE ♦. COTLE.-NEW TRIAL.

Tbis was an indictment for perjury, arising out of a
late prosecution and conviction for conspiracy against
the Alleynes and D'Arcy, to defraud Capt. Kennedy of
7,3001. That an American mare belonging to Holder
Alleyne, known as " Fanny Jenks," but named by him
" Pigeon," would trot a certain number of miles within
a given time, but that the mare becoming lame,
and consequently unable to trot the match, Cap-
tain Kennedy was induced, by the false pretences
of Alexander M‘Geachy Alleyne, at the instance
of his brother, to pay over the whole amount of
the wager to Holder Alleyne. The two Alleynes and
D'Arcy were tried in December, 1851, before Lord
Campbell and a special Middlesex jury, and found
guilty, and sentenced Alexander M`Geachy Alleyne to
six months', Holder Alleyne to 12 months', and D'Arcy
to two years' imprisonment in the Middlesex House of
Correction. D'Arcy had since died. The Alleynes
afterwards brought a writ of error to set aside the sen-
tence, and their being no joinder to the writ it was
allowed, and it was subsequently set aside on the
ground of collusion. The Alleynes afterwards indicted
Captain Kennedy, Mr. Newton, his solicitor, and the
defendant Coyle, for conspiracy to defraud them of
5,5001. ; indicting the latter separately for perjury,
which last chaige was tried in February last before
Lord Campbell. The defendant was found guilty, and
sentenced by his lordship to two years' ireprisoninOnt in
the Middlesex House of Correction, and in consequence
of that conviction the Alleynes were pardoned. At the
following term the defendant applied to set aside the
verdict, on the ground of the absence of a material wit-
ness, which was granted, and the case came on to-day
for re-hearing.
The Attorney-General, Mr. Kemp, Q C., and Mr.
Huddlestone appeared for the prosecution, and Mr.
James, Q.O , and Mr. Hawkins for the defendant.
The alleged perjury, on the part of the defeudant, was
his swearing that Alexander M`Geachy Alleyne was
present at a conversation between Coyle and Holder
Alleyne, at the Plough Hotel, Cheltenham.
The trial, in all probability, will occupy the whole of
to-day and a portion of to-morrow, when we shall pub-
lish an outline of the evidence and the result.

POLICE INTELLIGENCE.—{This Day.)

THAMES.

ROBBERY OF LEAD BY A WORKMAN.-- William Young,
a journeyman bricklayer, in the employ of Mr. James
Thomas Heather, builder, of Brown's-lane, Spitalfields,
was brought before Mr. Ingham charged with stealing
25 lbs. of lead, the property of his employer.
Police-constable George Winder, No. 38 K, stated
that he saw the prisoner in a marine stare-shop in Pop-
lar, New Town, last night. There was a quantity of
lead in a scale, and the shopkeeper was weighing it, and
about to pay for it, when witness stepped in and stopped
the transaction, and took the prisoner into custody. He
said his name was Dickenson, and that be was a brick-
layer, and that the landlord of the Wellington knew him
well, He went to the Wellington in Canning-town, and
saw the landlord, who said the prisoner's name was
Young. Mr. Heather, the prisoner's master, was in the
public.house attending a meeting, and said that the lead
was his property.

Mr. Heather, the prisoner's master, said the lead was
stolen from a building in the course of erection in Can-
Mng-town, near the Barking•road railway station. He
last saw the lead six weeks ago.
The prisoner, in defence, said his master gave him
the lead for some extra services performed by him.

Mr. Ifeatht, ;
_ Cant bgalria tbs.-prisoner the
lea I, but the latter persisting in the assertion, and that
he could bring a witness to prove the truth of his de-
fence, the magistrate remanded him until to-morrow,
and directed the police-constable who bad charge of the
case to direct 'the witness mentioned by the prisoner to
attend the Court to-morrow.