The Sun.
London, England, 1853-03-10 00:00:00

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treated by novelist. Fortune herself was not a
more cruel step-dame to this friendless, homeless
girl than is this arbiter of her imaginary destiny.
Never are we rightly introduced to Lucy—
" Who was her father—who was her mother ?
Had she a sister—had she a brother ?"
We are even now ignorant. Quietly, unostenta-
tiously, she makes her appearance, without any in-
troduction ; and speaking of others, not of herself,
we at first were inclined to believe her some mere
nobody who was going to relate to us the history
of those around her, like the " Old Man" of Mrs.
Marsh's tales. The first chapter takes us to
" my godmother's house at Bretton," and makes
us acquainted with sensible, respectable Mrs.
Bretton, and her good-hearted, somewhat self-
willed son Graham, and a little visitor, Paulina, a
delicate, clever, " old-fashioned" child. The scene
changes. Troubles, which are never revealed to us,
have passed over the head of Lucy. Estranged
from her godmother's family, bereft of friends and
fortune, though of what friends and of what fortune
we are ignorant, she resides for a time as companion
to a wealthy, irritable invalid, some distant rela -
tive—Miss Marchmont. After a painful, wearying
attendance upon the fitful moods of the invalid,
Lucy is again left solitary--Miss Marchmont dies,
but before her death occurs one beautiful scene.
When relieved from pain, the irritable mind be-
comes tranquil, and the old lady relates to Lucy
the love-story of her youth, and her life's sorrow,
drawing therefrom a moral until then neglected.
She would make others happy, and begin "to-mor-
row" with Lucy. But to her that " to-morrow"
never comes. Once more alone, with the world all
before her,, some chance circumstances induce Lucy
to venture across the Channel. She lands at Bone-
marine, and having on her passage made acquaint-
ance with Miss Ginevra Fanshawe, a pupil of Ma-
dame Beck, who keeps a Pensionmit des Demoi-
selles at Villette, Lucy is induced to proceed
to that town, the capital of Labassecour, and
at Madame Beck's establishment, in the Rue Fos-
Bette, she is engaged as English governess. Ma-
dame ‘Beck and her establishment form an
lteresting study. They are portrayed with a mas-
_

erly touch, and give occasion to no small exhi
tion of the writer's sarcastic power. Madame Beci
is a model schoolmistress (after her fashion). Hap.
piness and order prevail in her domain. No re.
proaches are heard from her lips, no officious inter.
ference annoys her subalterns. The system of
Madame's government is secret espionnage. With
gentle movement and noiseless tread Madame, un-
discovered herself in most cases, discovers all
things. Tb Lucy this secret becomes known on
her first arrival. When she has retired to rest in
her appointed place in the dormitory, she observes
a figure by her bedside, and, feigning sleep, takes
cognisance of Madame Beck's movements. Every
article of Lucy's apparel is turned over with a care-
ful hand, her pockets searched, and everything,
after examination, returned to its original place
with scrupulous exactitude. Lucy has no secrets,
'and therefore submits with good humour to the
system and with a certain admiration even recog-
nises Madame's skill. The sketches of character in
this book are admirable. Madame Beck is a mas-
terpiece of 'portrait-painting. Excellent, also, is
Miss Ginevra. Fanshawe, the type of a somewhat
numerous class of would-be delicate and sentimen-
tal young ladies, who are in fact selfish in feeling,
and anything but refined in conduct. Very dif-
ferent is Pauli a. The exquisite delicacy with
which her very peculiar character is delineated
proves that Currer Bell is equally felicitous
in the finer and more graceful branches of art,
as in those broad outlines in which she pourtrays a
Madame Beck, or a Miss Ginevra. Graham Bretton,
or Dr. John, as he is often called (who, with his
mother is residing at Villette), is a character more
generally met with in real life than in novels. Not
quite so perfect as the ordinary heroes of a fiction
are generally represented, hb is, nevertheless, a
very excellent and attractive individual, for a while
" made a fool of", by Miss Giuevra, but afterwards
raised to his true level by the nobler influence of
Paulina. One other character we must mention,
and that not the least important. In the PCM-
sionnat of Madame Beck, M. Paul Emanuel is the
Professeur de Litterature ; and being related to
Madame, and a frequent visitor at the Pensiomult,
he exercises considerable influence in the establish-
ment. He is the most impetuous and excitable of
men, self-willed and domineering ; but, withal,
kind-hearted and benevolent to excess. " Vif
comlne la poudre" himself, he abuses poor, quiet,
reserved Lucy for that very characteristic. But
through all the abuse and bitterness so bountifully
lavished on her devoted head, the real feelings of
the Professeur for the English governess are easily
discovered. In the third volume of her history
Lucy acquires new interest in our eyes (for at first,
Booth to say, we find her a very uninteresting person-
age)—her natural emotions, stimulated rather than
repressed by the very unjustifiable interference of
Madame Beck and other friends of the Profes-
seur, at length -bid defiance to that iron hand
with which she was wont to repress their every
manifestation. M. Paul has accepted some mission
to India ; he has quitted the Pensionnelt. Will he
leave the country without a farewell or explanation
to Lucy ?—will the manoeuvres of Madame Beck
be successful ? The chapters in which this problem
is debated recal to us the vivid power of " Jane
Eyre." We enter into the agonising suspense of
Lucy as she listens to every foot-fall, until her sus-
picions are aroused to certainty by Madame Beck's
summons for the English governess to her chamber
to write a letter for her ! We can fancy the strain-`
ing nerves with which that dictation is listened to,
until the noise of an arrival in the class-room is
heard also ; and Lucy, with quiet determination,
tells Madame that she must see what it is, and Ma-
dame accompanies her, and even then proves more
than a match for her. The sequel we will leave to
the readers of " Villette." We have said enough
to give an idea—but a very faint idea—of the ad-
mirable collection of sketches of character here
grouped together. The story, excepting occa-
sionally, as in the instance just alluded to, pos-
sesses no very powerful interest. The loves of
Graham and Paulina are feelingly described, and
the manner in which the happiness of their lives is
spoken of forms a beautiful and refreshing contrast
to the general tone of the book—for the tone of
feeling which runs through " Villette" is 'bitter
rather than tender. With a -skilful hand human
passions and actions are analysed, but the analysis
is conducted on such a principle that the worst
qualities only of those passions and actions are
brought to the surface. All the alloy which min-
gles with human motives becomes manifest at the
test of Currer Bell ; but the pure gold, which,
in a greater or less degree, is infallibly to
be found side by side with that alloy, is
passed over in the scrutiny, and not taken
into account. To this rule there are occasional
exceptions, some of which we have particularised ;
but those exceptions are, as we have said, only the
more refreshing by reason of the arid nature of the
philosophy with which they mingle. The following
passages will give some idea of the power of the
writing and the force of the sentiments :

DISCIPLINE.
" These struggles with the natural character, the
strong native bent of the heart, may seem futile and
fruitless, but in the end they do good. They tend, how-
ever slightly, to give the actions, the conduct, that turn
which reason approves, and which feeling perhaps too
often opposes ; they certainly make a difference in the
general tenor of a life, and enable it to be better regu-
lated, more ,equable, quieter on the-surface ; and it is on
the surface only the common gaze will fall. As to what
lies below, leave that with God. Man, your equal, weak
as you, and not fit to be your judge, may be shut out
thence. Take it to your Maker—show Him the secrets
of the spirit He gave—ask Him how you are to bear
the pains He has appointed—kneel in His presence, and
pray with faith for light in darkness, for strength in
piteous weakness, for patience in extreme need. Cer-
tainly at some hour, though not perhaps your hour, the
waiting waters will stir in some shape, though not per-
haps the shape you dreamed, which your heart loved,
and for which it bled, the healing herald will descend.
The cripple, and the blind, and the dumb, and the pos-
sessed will be led to bathe. Herald, come quickly !
Thousands lie round the pool, weeping and despairing,
to see it through slow years stagnant. Long are the
times' of Heaven ; the orbits of angel messengers seem
wide tQ mortal vision ; they may enring ages ; the cycle
of one departure and return may clasp unnumbered
generations, and dust kindling to brief suffering life,
and through pain, passing back to dust, may mean-
while perish out of memory again, and yet again. To
how many maimed and mourning millions is the first
and sole angel visitant—him easterns call Azrael."

SUSPENSE.
"I think if eternityheld torment, its form would not be
fiery rack, nor its nature despair. I think that on a
among those days which never dawned, and
day among
an angel entered Hades—stood, shone,
certainwilt
no dt
smiled, delivered a prophecy of conditional pardon, kin-
dled a doubtful hope of bliss to come, not nove, but at a
day and hour unlooked for, revealed in his own glory
and grandeur the height and compass of his promise—
spoke thus, then towering, become a star, and vanished
was suspense—a worse
into his own heaven. His legacy
legacy than despair.

* .
" I always, through- my wh *ole le, like to
to the real truth ; I like seeking theif goddess inpenetrate her tem-
ple and handling the veil, and daring the dread glance.
0, Titaness amongst deities ! The covered outline of
thine aspect sickens often through its uncertainty, but
~
define to us one trait—show us one lineament clear
wit'h
awful sincerity, we may gasp in untold temerity.
Cur
heart gasp we drink in a breath of thy divinity.
_n lifted by
heart shakes, and its currents sway like reinv ji6i. To sFe earthquake ; but we have swallowed am
fear her main
and to know the worst is to take fr I
advantage."

No mockery in this world ever
hollow as that of being
CULTIVATE turrixEss
sounded t me so
told to cultivate happinesso . What
does such advice mean I happiness le not a Potato, to