The Sun.
London, England, 1863-02-27 00:00:00

LITERATURE

Sylvia's Lovers. By Mrs. Gaskell, Author of
" The Life of Charlotte Broute," " Mary Barton,"
&c., &c. 3 vols. Smith and Elder.
It is some time since the reading public were
favoured with a novel from this gifted writer, and
it is satisfactory to find that her style has not
deteriorated, nor her characters become less for-
cible. In some of the personages here met with,
we find all the vigour of her former heroes and
heroines. Philip Hepburn is a masterpiece in his
life-like delineation—his virtues, his vices, all show
forth marked and prominent. They are nicely
balanced and evenly adjusted, so that we alternately
admire and despise him. Some impetuous reader
might pronounce judgment against him at once, but
that would not be fair. His errors were grave ones,
but they could not obliterate his merits. He was
gifted also with sufficient honesty of heart to know
the wrong he had done, and the memory of it walked
through life, even unto death beside him. Sylvia
might have spared him the misery, and herself the
sin of her curses, for the avenger was ever with him,
I as the worm that dieth not, and the fire that cannot
be quenched. The point on which the story turns
is as skilful in design as was ever introduced into a
pioture of real life, and ably has the conception
been carried out. Sylvia, a frank, fearless country
girl, of no particular character, except that she was
obstinate and unforgiving when deeply offended,
was in love with Charles Kinnaird, the " Speck-
sioneer" of a vessel bound for Greenland, on the
whale fishery. Philip had long been attached to
his pretty little cousin, but was waiting to declare
himself until some business arrangements had been
completed. His employers sent him to London on
an important mission. He started early in the
morning, and took his way by the sea shore to
arrive at the place where the coach started. Thus ho
passed the " Haytersbank Gully, opening down its
green entrance among the worn brown bases of the
cliff." This was Sylvia's home, and he longed to
see her then and repeat the adieus of the previous
evening. Time forbade, however, and he harried
on. A man came down the gully just then at a
quick pace, and, as he preceded him, Philip saw it
was his rival the Specksioneer, Kinnaird. This
latter was also on his travels, being about to take
sail for the Northern Seas. He had made an en-
gagement with a whaler at North Shields, and bad
just taken leave of Sylvia. Maddened at this
thought, Philip went on after his rival, his suc-
cessful rival, when, suddenly taking a different
turn and getting in advance of Kinnaird, he fore*
saw a deadly danger for his foe. On came the un'
suspicious sailor, and up started the ambush. The
press-gang had seized him. In vain he showed his
papers, and declared he was a protected whaler by
Act of Parliament. The fierce crew would hear ne
law but that of capture, when and how they could.
They seized their prey, but on the point of depart-
ing for the it boat, then in waiting on the shore,
Kinnaird caught sight of Philip watching them
behind a reek. Ho called to him, and, ignorant of
his vindictiveness against him, though aware ho
was not friendly disposed, proceeded to send by
him a parting message to his cousin. Unfortu•
nately on the road Philip stumbled over Kinnaird's
hat, which,had dropped in the struggle. if In the
band that went round the low crown a ribbon was
knotted, a piece of that same ribbon which Philip
had chosen out with such tender hope to give to
Sylvia for the Corney's party on New-year's Eve"
He had been almost relenting into pity for the man
captured before his eyes, now he abhorred him.
He heard Kinnaird deliver his charge, that he
would tell Sylvia of his misfortune, bid her not
forget their engagement, and to remember that lie
would be faithful to her and return as soon as pots'
Bible. Philip went on, and Kinnaird was borne to
the boat, thence to the ship, and then afterwards
over the seas to fight in foreign lands in the wily'
then raging with great virulence. As may be Elt-
pected, that message never reached its destination'
When Philip returned from London, he found, t°
his great relief, that every one thought Kinnaird
had been drowned. His hat was found ou the
shore, and no one in the neighbourhood had 110'
ticed the vessel that had carried him away. Philip
thought this a grand opportunity, and eagerly eel-
braced it. Had he looked into the question aright he
would have recognised the deadly snares of the
tempter. Philip's love was not a perfect attach'
ment, the highest affection is capable of any seal'
five for the good, even for the happiness of the be'
loved one, Philip's was essentially a selfish feeling'
he stood by and saw Sylvia shedding bitter tear°
for her lost love, while he acted a lie, and let her
grieve, knowing that a word from him would hole
made her heart rejoice. One step leads to another
with fearful velocity, on this dark road of dear
tion and subterfuge ; some grievous family troubles
overcame the light-hearted girl, and her sunshiny
career was for ever darkened in this world. itel
father, who had always entertained a burning hatred
to the press-gang, became in an evil hour involve"
in a very serious struggle with them. He and 1:05
friends liberated the men that the officers hi.,'
seized, and then, excited and maddened by long
oppression, they forgot themselves, and burned
down the " Randyvow," as they called the place
where the officers put up in Monkshaven. ref
this Daniel Robson was seized and tried. By O.
laws of the land at that time he was guilty of a
capital offence, and his life paid the forfeit. Mrs'
Robson, enfeebled by illness, became quite childish'
and Sylvia was alone in the word. What a con
trast to the blooming girl, the idol of her parent:
who had not a care in the world, but was belove'
and admired wherever she turned. Philip was the
mainstay of the afflicted household; he provided
an eminent lawyer to defend the accused ;
brought the wife and daughter to the prison, tl/30
stayed with them in the dreary town where the
execution took place. Sylvia had notice to
the farm, the world seemed a desert around lie';
and it was not-wonderful that she should have °,l
last agreed to marry Philip, whom she respected o',
honoured for his services to her father, and his ell
wearying kindness to her mother. The scene d
changes. The country life, with its freedom all
freshness, vanished with the days of her haPPI
youth, and the dream of her first levdei
away for ever. Sylvia was now the wife tia
a respectable shopkeeper in Monkshaven, a
at
her existence assumed a measured routine °Jost
cramped her feelings and curbed her desires stn'
beyond endurance. Philip'e feelings in these "hglet
days" are most accurately described. No heavi
punishment can befall the daring sons of hurneedit it
than to have their impious wishes granted, and l'hio
unworthy longings gratified. Philip knew that ..0
cousin was not for him by the decision of her 0
heart and the arrangements of Providence. Pod
began by wishing something to befall his rived, ,E 1
from the rocks up sprang men to do his biddle6to
Then he availed himself' of the dreadful judgineljo
of Heaven on the afflicted family to work out fig
purpose. He succeeded, and yet the result w_dt
not so delightful " after all, and though he did
acknowledge it to himself, the long desired 115P:1r,
I nese was not so delicious and perfect as he had
.43
ticipated." How could it be with the fearful riea
that was buried in his heart. He thought it bur of
HanidnifotorgwothohmoNavilhheela.ratds outraged the
atlhiedecsoimrems akondo:c.isio;
and from whom no secrets are hid. Soou alterfi.
I‘ll/
birth of their child the fatal hour came, and
of ro
naird, glowing with life and
tersbank. She had ge
there Sylvia in the garden of Hay
phheela.
fromml
th
t
suffereeretao gather
saw hael some
d loner lherbsooiw for n
hgmu she believed
,sheteror,odW;
ment she
fathoms deep in the mighty ocean whose waves sot.
loved to watch as the grave of her lamented Jo
She rushed home, he followeel her, the gut,a.
Philip appeared, and all was known. 'Men, 1913 et
dened by her cruel misery, and urged on Oro to
vehement nature, Sylvia took a, vow never iner Tee
forgive the man who had played her so false' thoO,
after events _ are described with much pas be
and the
Philip
He urn
could. He left the wife he dared not look
and wanderedet,
menpb expiated his crime so far :roil,
not me
whoseoff. Presently fa c°3he
c
army, and in some desperate enco
Bonetere i
hd
saved Kinnaird's life. After soe iron
heentered lie
lid
returned to Monkshaven. he was so alter'
the Injuries he recaived in the war that no 130