The Sun.
London, England, 1848-03-30 00:00:00

LITERATURE.

ANGELA. A Novel. By the Author of " Emilia
Wyndham." Three Vols.
In her preface to a recent edition of " Emilia
Wyndham," the authoress of that justly celebrated
work makes some very truthful remarks upon novels
and novel-reading. She begins by asserting that the
novel has taken the place once filled by the drama, that
" in its different forms it may now be considered the
universal recreati.,ii of mankind; and, so the novel,
be what it ought to be (she goes on), it is surely not
only the most harmless and innocent, but one among
the most profitable and valuable of recreations."
After dilating upon its value as a source of amuse-
ment, she proceeds to consider its moral influence.
She agrees with " some fastidious men of taste," who
" object to a novel written for an express moral pur-
pose, asserting that its perfection as a work of art
is thus destroyed." And yet the novel-writer is to
teach—but how ?—hy adhering to nature and paint-
ing human life as it is. " Human life—the grand
model, the vast treasury from which all fictions must
be drawn—produces no obvious arrangements of cir-
cumstances to prove a principle, or exemplify a
maxim. But is human life, upon that account, a picture
without a moral ? Far otherwise, to toe who read it
uright it'i s one vast school of moral instruction. To teach
men to read it aright is the business of the novelist."
She proceeds to enumerate the necessary qualifica-
tions for the " honest, loving, novelist," and the good
effects which his writings may produce ; and in all
this she only utters her own panygeric, for she is,
undoubtedly, one of the authors who paint life cor-
rectly, and teach men to read it rightly. Her fictions
are not only, attractive in their style, and interesting
in their stories, but ennobling and elevated in senti-
ment, and likely to be most beneficial in their influ-
ence. In introducing her Emilia Wyndham, she
says, "I send her forth, upon her mission • the at-
tempt to remind her dear, but too often trifling, in-
considerate sisters, how noble a thing is a well dis-
ciplined heart, a righteous conscience, and a culti-
vated understanding in woman. How beautiful are
duties consoientously performed I How wide-
spreading the influence of good !" The same re-
marks might serve to introduce Angela, for her
mission is the same. The history of her life is
another of those most encouraging and effectual
lessons—the lessons of example. Her story is
another illustration of the heroism that may
be evinced in every day life. The charac-
ter of Angela, :natural though it be, is an ideal
exemplification of the trials and triumphs of a human
heart, acutely sensible to all earthly passion, but
wholly obedient to an unearthly guidance, while in
Augusta Darby, her friend and companion-heroine,
we have an illustration of a naturally good and gene-
rous heart, swayed by every gust of passion, sup-
ported only by its natural goodness and generosity,
and unaided by any higher principle. The theme is
a most suggestive one, and very powerfully has its
moral been pourtrayed. Angela, evidently a great
favourite with the authoress, is very carefully and
delicately drawn, yet we are almost inclined to
prefer the portrait of Augusta, it is so natural and
life-like. With all her faults and all her good qua-
lities, impetuous and earnest in good and evil, she
seems, by the side of the calm and gentle Angela, like
a living being beside a statue—not that Angela is a
statue, she also is described as acutely sensitive and
full of feeling, but the character of Augusta
is peculiarly animated and life-like—one of those
figures which seem positively starting from the can-
vass. The authoress of" Angela" has a style, or rather
manner, peculiarly her own. She divides her chap-
ters into fragments, and these fragments into frequent
paragraphs. Her style is most abrupt, but also it is
most animated. She expresses herself in a frank and
impetuous manner; we should esteem it natural, or
even careless, were it not that the frequent breaks and
the curious arrangement of the phrases give it a
studied and almost affected appearance. Yet, while
we do not exactly admire these peculiarities (for
an authoress who possesses such brilliant talents has
no need to descend to such minutiae to excite atten-
tion), they are not without some attraction. They give
an earnestness and vitality to the narrative, and add
considerably to the general effect. We do not propose
to enter into the plot of the story; one incident will
serve to show its character. In the third volume we find
Angela, who is compelled to earn her own subsis-
tence, and support her young brothers and sisters,
the companion and governess of Augusta Darby.
Different as are their positions and characters they
become friends—friends in the fullest sense of the
term. Both have been unhappy in love, Angela
having been betrOthed to a young artist, whom she
mourns for dead, while Augusta has, from her child-
hood, been engaged to a cousin whom she loved with
all the intensity of her passionate nature • but who
has always appeared indifferent to her. Angela be-
comes the confident of her anxieties and sorrows, and
tenderly sympathises with her. At last the
cousin, who has been absent, returns, and volun-
tarily claims the fulfilment of their engagement,
Augusta is overwhelmed with joy, her emotion is too
powerful to describe, and Angela, whose own hopes
are in the grave, rejoices heartily in the joy of her
friend. She carefully assists in Augusta's toilette,
and when about to meet her betrothed, all these
little details are minutely dwelt on in order to in-
crease the interest of the catastrophe. The two girls
descend to the drawing-room, and Angela recognises
her long-lost lover. He and Augusta's cousin are
the same ! Angela is not aware of this ; she loses
consciousness on perceiving him. She is carried to
her room, and Augusta attends on her, herself dis-
tracted with opposing emotions. Love, and jealousy,
and friendship dividing her heart—a heart that only
follows its own impulses—and is alternately swayed
by every contending passion. All this scene of suf-
fering is very powerfully pourtrayed. Augusta stands
by her friend's bedside; she at first turns away from the
eager inquiries of the unconscious Angela, then, with
a great effort, tells her the truth,—their lovers are the
same. After one of the very frequent breaks occurs
the following fragment, showing how Angela bore the
tidings. This passage peculiarly exemplifies the
author's style and sentiments—the style so disjointed
and emphatic, the sentiments so beautiful and so na-
tural :
" Honour to the heart!

" Honour and praise to the affectionate and loyal
heart! Honour, and praise, and thanksgiving, to the
heart which can triumph over the contradictions of self-
interest, the bitter influences of jealousy and envy, the
fierce ordeal of rival love, and can maintain itself equi-
table, sincere, affectionate, and true!
" Honour to these two dear girls! The one, trained
and disciplined by adversity, and purified and sanctified
by piety. The other, warm, genial, generous, and high
—the handiwork of prodigal Nature. Both just, both
loyal, both brave, both in their noble disinterestedness
raised far above all the mean influences, the fierce and
stormy passions, the cruel dissensions, and the still
more cruel alienation to which their unhappy circum-
stances were calculated to give birth.
" They had parted that night with few words ; for
what could either say ? But the warm embrace—the
passionate strain of her poor feeble arms—with which
Angela flung herself upon Augusta's bosom ; the flood
of warm honest tears with which it had been bathed
had melted all the ice of Augusta's heart ; and the
deep, earnest, throbbing pressure, with which she had
returned her friend's embraces, with her pale dark
face wept in silence over her, told what she suffered and
what she could forgive. Not one syllable was exchanged,
for both their hearts were dull."

We will not pursue the narrative further, nor say
how the hero came to place himself in such an
awkward position, nor which of the two heroines
became ultimately his bride; all that we leave to the
future study of the reader. The example chosen is
one admirably well calculated to carry out the
author's object, and show how in such a cruel trial
a well-disciplined heart and lively spirit, like that of
Angela, will support and comfort its possessor, while
a heart only governed by its own good feelings, like
poor Augusta's, will be carried away by every suc-
ceeding passion, and well nigh perish in the storm.

CHARTIST AND REPEAL MEET-

ING IN SALFORD.
On Monday evening last a meeting of Chartists and
Repealers was held in their Room, Bank-street, Great
George-street, Salford.
A man, named RIIIIARD ANDERSON being called to
the chair, in opening the business reminded the meeting
that on St. Patrick's Day the Chartists of Manchester
and Salford had pledged themselves that if the Govern-
ment attempted to put down the expression of public
opinion in Ireland, the Chartists in England would ro-
sist them to the utmost. He called on

JOHN FLINN, who, in the course of his speech, said
that the Government screened those butchering,
murdering landlords, who had been, and would
be, so long as they existed, the curse and bane
of Ireland. It behoved the middle classes, then, to aid
in exterminating all that class, who had proved them-
selves the greatest enemies of liberty, both here and in
Ireland. Our Government had met the demand for
reform by a State prosecution, by threats of the gibbet,
and of butchery. lie would tell that Government, how-
ever, that that the first man shot in Ireland would be a
signal to Irishmen in this count✓] to take that revenge
which centuries of oppression and tyranny had sown in
their bosoms—to take it upon the class which had given
such cause for it. There were 50,000 Irishmen in Lon-
don, and at least 30,000 in Manchester—would they
stand quietly by and see their countrymen butchered?—
(Cries of " No.") No, the first man shot in Ireland
would be the signal for levelling the aristocratic power
of England with the dust. They wanted no outbreak,
but would not sit quietly by and see their Irish brethren
massacred. Saxon and Celt had no longer any differ•
ences, and saw in common but one enemy—the canting,
base, and bloody Government which now ruled this
country.—(G rent cheering.)
A young man named WILLIAst DIxoN said, if they
were to demand and gain their rights, they must not
engage in child's play. They could not do it by passing
resolutions : the only way was by something stronger.
The confederates in Dublin now said, " Do not petition,
but arm, arm, arm !" The confederates of Manchester
had passed a resolution, proclaiming that they would
establish a national guard in Manchester.—(Loud and
L long cheering.) Their echoing that sentiment proved