The Sun.
London, England, 1854-05-31 00:00:00

LITERATURE.

Counterparts ; or, The Cross of Love. By the
Author of " Charles Auchester." 3 vols.
Smith and Elder.
" Two forms that differ in order to correspond,
this is the true sense of the word ' Counterpart.' "
With this text of Coleridge, we are introduced to
the work. It is a significant one, foretelling its
depth of purpose and grandeur of design; yet there
is nothing over-strained in effort or overloaded in
ornament in the style before us. It is true there
are flights of fancy which seem exaggerated to
those who care not to consider how bright may be
their course, or how exalted their aim ; and, also,
we meet with passages of a more abstruse and rea-
soning kind, which will undoubtedly be classed by
many as too grave and-didactic. However, the
question is, whether occasionally a work of this
character is not acceptable and welcome. If it
does not hold out an attraction for the million, Inv
it not contain treasures for the thoughtful and re-
fined—for the many to whose high standard of taste
but few spirits can minister, and who may rejoice
at a meeting with a kindred intelligence ? There
are some who do not always wish to be reminded
of the most sordid and volatile attributes of their
being when they turn to the contemplation of fic-
tion, whose desire is not to see reproduced for the
thousandth time the giddy world of pleasure, or to
peruse embellished accounts of the work-day world.
Exciting and admirable as such themes may be,
there are occasions when higher and purer thoughts
intrude, and then it is acceptable to behold deli-
neated the workings of the world within. The
feelings of the heart are the avowed and acknow-
ledged subject of romance ; but here they are ana-
lysed as well as chronicled, and striking events do
not form a conclusion to a scene so much
as they seem a prelude to the illustration of
some hidden motive, or some forewarned ideas.
The range of characters is not very extensive in
the story, but there are enough for the memory to
grasp at once, as, though the incidents are not
numerous, they seem so from their detail, and the
:place is so minutely described that the reader
almost forgets it is a small city of the earth that
gives rise to such vivid pictures. The complication
of mischances and misunderstandings is
almostalost
mystical to trace, and yet on looking back
past it all seems clear and simple. The most pro-
minent and perhaps most interesting of the cha-
racters is Sarona, a physician of extraordinary
ability and untiring zeal. The beggar at his gate
was served before the rich man waiting in his
drawing-room ; " where'er mankind or misery was
found" there did he hasten, and generally to be of
service. His sister, Salome, does not appear to so
much advantage as her brother ; her nature is not
so thoroughly displayed to the view, and she must
be considered as a sort of background to throw into
relief the dazzling brightness of the first portraiture.
Besides, her story is of the past ; she only feels
for others—her day for self-suffering is over,
whether for joy or sorrow. Cecilia Dudleigh
forms the most striking part of the narrative.
Many of her thoughts and actions seem quite
original and unexpected, but then her position was
a strange one.
Bernard is a pleasing and fascinating study : it
is natural to be led to contemplate his beauty, his
talents, and his grace of mind and manners, till we
lose sight of the higher and nobler purposes of his
friend Sarona. The latter seemed to constrain
admiration and enthusiasm, for his lofty disregard
of self, and his proud priority of intellect, while
Bernard invited all by his engaging airs and loving
heart to rejoice in the powers he exercised with so
benign an influence. Rose de Berri seemed as
beautiful-and fragile as the flower which bore her
name, but in reality her spirit was strong, and
too strong for her happiness. The extremes of
pride and humility are made to bear the same sad
fruits, and reap ihe same bitter consequences.
Bernard, distrustful of himself, in comparison with
Sarona's might ; Sarona, too lofty to let his most
intimate friend understand him ; Cecilia, too self-
reliant to put faith in others' best intentions ; and
Rose, toe timid to allow herself to see what was
passing around her—all these varying feelings com-
bined to the same end. Misconception of motives
did not lead to any confusion, as the mistake of
one was worked upon as the mistake of all. Hence
Bernard led Rose to the altar, while Sarona and
Cecilia attended as their nearest and dearest
friends, while each felt that the ceremony they
knelt to implore a blessing upon, was the sign
manual of the separation of his or her spirit from
its counterpart upon earth.
In Bernard and Cecilia great resemblance was
observable, if they did not meet as even friends
outwardly, their spirits communed, as it were, face to
face, each in thelglorious creations of the other. It
was the melody of Bernard's poetry that first sug-
gested to Cecilia the harmony of her own composi-
tion in another sphere. He is first introduced to
us writing in the midst of a storm, which did not
affect the sunshine of his dreams, or the serenity
of his visions. " There was blood in his veins
which the thunder could not curdle, and his nerves
were soft sheathed, like a sleeping infant's, from
sympathies with the lightning." He wrote thus
on and on, only pausing as his imagination whis-
pered music too sweet for the poet to utter. In a
different scene did Cecilia compose. In the night
also, but a quiet one, came to her mind the forms
of beauty which clothe with loveliness the poet's
dreams, and crown with lustre the imaginings of
the musician.

" The ideas came down, the seraphs from their light
in light, who are known without seeing, felt without
hearing, the pulses of silence began to play, and the
thousand-toned whole was hers, the one that is manifold
as music."
The last important passage in the story is en-
titled " Amaranth." "It was a day in the twilight
month November, in the city whose autumn is like
a second spring," when Sarona ventured to recal
Bernard from his exile to return to his dearly be-
loved home. It was at a time of sickness that the
two young and fragile ones had been sent to the
sea, so congenial to both their tastes. In order to
escape contagion they returned ; but how, to die
in sight of land and safety. The very measures
adopted for safety for the susceptible Bernard were
to destroy him. He landed at some infected town
on the coast, and only lived to send for his friends.
Sarona descended to.the cabin where his heart's
dearest friend was dying, while lie had supposed
him safe for years. His professional skill soothed
the agonies he was enduring, and then Bernard
demanded to be taken on deck to die in the light
and breath of heaven. In the last hour he turned
to her who controlled his spirit and ruled his
heart. Cecilia was by to offer her assistance and
support.
"Then Bernard opened his eyes upon the twin of his
immortal : his sister for eternity.
" should like to go to sleep', were the words of his
last earthly voice. Cecilia felt that they were for her.
" The old proud evening when her soul had mastered
his, came over her, then sank : her memory turned
dark within her. In his strength he had slept at her
command ; but the charm was spent in her dry eyes
and brain. And the will, her power and her pride,
passed out of her in prayer : no inward voice, nor form
of thought, nor recollected music ; but a passion which
swept eternity and fainted at Jehovah's throne. While
Sarona prayed that he might be spared, at least till they
could bear to lose him—while Rose lifted up her infant
longings for his life and health—the one who loved him
with a love more strong than death, prayed only that he
might die, and die in sleep.
'And he slept, . with breath that slept between lips
just open, till the first of the morning twilight ; when
Sarona, who had never stirred, looked up in Cecilia's
eyes. The phantoni laid, should disturb the soul no
more.
If misfortune and suffering are the prevailing
features in the scenes here enacted, there is
nothing terrible in any of them. The sorrows
are not always devoid of a peculiar calm and a
solemn pathos, which made them in some mea-
sure appear as joys to the sensitive sp
which irits they
visited. In all the varying struggles in the
proud and the lowly were engaged there was the
same holy purity of purpose, and the same triumph
over the mean and the selfish. It was not their
• end when their hopes were destroyed, and Sarona
and Cecilia seemed nerved anew to the struggle.
- The cross of love they placed with the other crosses
of life. On one occasion Cecilia remarked on a pas-
sage of the " Pilgrim's Progress," when they heard
" the bells of heaven ringing over the river," so is
it with the spirit of this history. The counterparts
could not be joined on earth? but they were cap.
able, by the intensity of their sorrow, to measure
what should have been the fullness of their joy ?
In sounding its depths and going up to its heights,
there came a peace to the troubled heart, while
the genius of poetry and the glories of music
alike spoke the language of the laud of promise and
of rest. As the bells of heaven ringing over the
river, they seemed to inspire them to the highest
and the holiest ;• and in the contemplation of the
subjects to which this life can set neither limits nor
a bound, they sought the counterparts of their
spirits in the immortal and the divine.

Edward Willoughby. By the Author of " The
Discipline of Life," 2 vols. Hurst and

BlacKett.

The writer of this work is already well known to
the readers of fiction. Her former works have
gained her a high reputation. She is not an author
who writes from any trivial motive, but all her works
show an earnest purpose, and that purpose is an
elevating one. In her first work, " The Discipline
of Life," the dangers and difficulties of the world
were shown in various aspects, and the need of
steadfastness and principle to meet them. Her
second had A still more detnito.object, the portzkyal