The Sun.
London, England, 1864-10-11 00:00:00

LITERATURE,

Cunzworth House. By the Author of "Caste."
Three vols. Hurst and Blackett.
"Alisoun Grey—a Love Story," would have been
an appropriate and felicitous title for this novel.
Alisoun Grey, the heroine, is the life and soul of
the whole work, and the charm of her character
and the interest of her life all depend upon the in-
tense significance attached by both authoress and
heroine to the idea of love. A very simple, gentle,
tender little maiden is Alisoun, the defrauded
heiress of Cumv.-orth House; but gentle, and
humble, and apparently insignificant though she is,
she contrives in process of time to subdue the
most stubborn wills and to soften the most obdu-
rate hearts. But this very charming and very love-
able heroine is hardly treated by fortune and by the
novelist. The hero of this love story is. one of the
least attractive and least deserving of men. Per.
haps the better to illustrate her favourite love
theory, the authoress intentionally has made choice
of an unworthy object as the recipient of her
heroine's unselfish affections—the sunshine being
equally pure and equally radiant, no matter on what
insignificant or despicable object it may fall. If so,
we cannot but think, notwithstanding the high-
flown idealism of her sentiments, that this celebrant
of love haa committed a mistake. Such a heart as
Alisoun's should have been given to a nobler lover
than Launcelot Sturm. The very beauty of her
self-forgetting devotedness degenerates into weak-
ness where the object to whtca it clings ceases to
command respect, and Launcelot Sturm most assur.
edly can command respect from no one. After. his
very shameful vacillation he appears indeed,and, no
wonder, heartily ashamed of himself. He hardly
ventures to show his face throughout the latter por-
tion of the story, the novelist perhaps being aware
that, whatever Alisoun might think, the reader
must be heartily and utterly disgusted with him.
Passing over (under protest) the unworthy object
of Alison:l's affections, .we must give her historian
ample credit for the loveable heroine she has intro-
duced to us—so loveable because so loving. Here
is a glimi,se of her in early happiness:—

TILE DAWN OF LOVE.
" I am too happy," she murmured ; " just to be alive on
such a day, in such a world, would be enough, It is
so
beautiful I so beAutiful I And to feel all this beauty
crowned with love I lam happy, so happy--too happy I
It seems as if all were love to-day--as if the sun loved to
shine—as if the earth smiled with love to feel it shine.
Just as my sun loves to shine on me, and I—l smile with
love to feel the shining. God hastens us with joy as well
as sorrow," she said, speaking lower yet. "Oh I how
can I ever be good enough to be fit for all this joy and
love 2"
With keenest intensity she was conscious of the exquisite
sweetness and beauty filling all her senses and all her soul,
touching her as with vague longing for a new sense or
soul to fill with that superfluous loveliness.
Never, as it seemed to her, had there been such an even-
ing. sever had the soft south wind seemed so full of frag-
rance—fragrance of flowers, and yet more of fresh opened
leaves touched by the evening dew—never had the song of
birds seemed to her so mystically wonderful, so utterly and
subtly musical—never had her heart risen and fallen with
such delicious happiness, and been so full, over-full, of
love, love—lova which brimmed over from her eyes, and
was shed on all they looked on.
Rest there, poor child, pause upon that happiness, drink
in that beauty. Dear, happy eyes, rain down your dew of
joy, and be ready for the shedding of bitter, briny drops of
sorrow. In this world such exquisite moments are but
moments.

In some of the other portraits the skill of the
Artist's hand is very visible. Weak and erring
Mr Stonhurst, Alisoun's uncle, is very naturally
drawn. Mrs. Stonhurst is too hard for reality.
Her paragon daughter, Sara, is remarkable for
her " cold sweetness," " She had so often, when
she was much younger, heard it said that she
inherited her father's amiability, that she had, as it
were, grown up in the conscious odour of her
own sweetness." Nithing irritates, nothing
reftLs, in outward appearance at least, the calm
ind complacent Sara. iLr peculiar character is
well preserved throughout the story, and contrasts
well with that of the loving, easily moved and
much enduring Alisoans, The other heroine, Gerais
dine Symthe (whose distorted name is a perpetual
distinction!) is a more natural, and is, in her way
equally unlike her friend and rival Alisoun Geraldine
Smythe, is the d •,ughter of a noble-hearted father and
l',weak and faulty mother. In her " two natures
are contending," and during the struggle the evil
nature, the weak, frail human nature, produces in•
calculable suffering not only to herself but to others.
Adelheid Shupe (the writer seems to take pleasure
in selecting names), is too perfect to excite much of
our sympathy or regard. We have no particular
predilection for paragons. Conway Stonhurst and
Gilbert Kaird, Alisoun's cousins, disappoint in the
latter instance, according to the old idiom, " agree-
ably disappoint" our expectations. Gilbert Kaird
improves greatly upon acquaintance, while
Conway degenerates into a mere nobody.
l'he authoress selects him at the close—we do not
know why—of the narrative as the mouthpiece of
her theory of love, a theory very beautiful and
loveable, if rightly carried out. Bat the writer, like
all enthusiasts upon any subject, is carried by her
own ideas to the length of extravagance. Witness
for example, the following exordium :