The Sun.
London, England, 1848-11-30 00:00:00

LITERATURE.

MARY BARTON; a Tale of Manchester Life. 2 Vols.
" Mary Barton," unpretending as is its appellation,
is, without doubt, one of the most interesting, and in
many respects the most admirable, of the many works
of -fiction which have recently made their appearance.
A work of fiction we call it, for the narrative is, of
course, fictitious, but the characters are life-like, the
pictures of humble life are real, and, above all,
the passion and the pathos are eminently truthful. To
give in a few words the best description, and the highest
eulogium of " Mary Barton," we may say that it affords
a most graphic sketch of the habits and thoughts and
feelings of the important class to which it relates—
one of the most important classes of the community—
and, at the same time, in the most delicate and mas-
terly manner it reveals the secret workings of the hu-
man heart, which are the same among all classes.
From the very first chapter of the first volume, where
we join the humble tea party at John Barton's hos-
pitable board, we feel ourselves actually mingling in
the scenes of which we read, we inhale the smoky
atmosphere of the manufacturing city, we join in
the jovial mirth of the factory-workers in
their days of plenty, and we sympathise
most heartily in their despairing desolation, when
idleness has succeeded to employment, and starvation
to prosperity. " The short and simple annals of the
poor" are here set forth by one well fitted for, and
well worthy of, the task. Nothing is " extenuated,"
' nor aught set down in malice." The wrongs
and the wrong-doings of both employers and
employed are gently touched upon, and those
wrongs and wrong-doings are most effectively
illustrated by an awfully tragic incident—an inci-
dent which throws a gloom over many pages of the
narrative, but which at the same time invests it with
most heart-thrilling interest and a most solemn
beauty. Not the sorrows of the poor only employ
the loving hand which has inscribed "Mary Bart, ii,
not the sorrows of the poor only draw tears from
the eyes which dwell upon its pages, the
chapter which details with a most horrible minute-
ness the incidents which transpired in Mr. Carson's
mansion on the evening of his son's murder, is, per-
haps, one of the most natural pieces of writing that
ever was penned. Our space will not permit us to
enter more fully into the merits of the story.
We must bestow one remaining consideration
upon the heroine herself. She is well worthy
of all consideration. The character of Mary
Barton, as here portrayed, affords an inimitable illus-
tration of the complicated workings of a woman's
heart. Mary is not described as an all-perfect he-
roine : early deprived of a mother's care—spoilt by
an indulgent father—conscious of great personal
attractions, Mary is for a time unworthily influenced
by coquetry and ambition. She scorns the affection
of a noble-hearted youth in her own sphere of life,
who is devoted to her, and for whom she, in spite of
herself, entertains a most tender regard, and thus
doing violence to her natural inclinations she listens
with satisfaction to th© loving professions of Henry
Carson, the son of the great proprietor, her am-
bitious desire of becoming a wealthy " lady" render-
ing her wilfully blind to the worth of the man she
really loves, and the worthlessness of the " gentle-
man who is deceiving her. It is not our purpose to
epitomise all the history of Mary Barton, but there
is one "situation" towards the close of the narrative
which possesses such powerful and unusual in-
terest, and which is, in fact, in every way
so admirable, that we should hardly consider
ourselves as doing justice to the author of
" Mary Barton " if we did not, however briefly,
allude to it. James Wilson, Mary's humble lover,
declares his affection, and meets with a most decisive
rejection from his ambitious mistress ; but no sooner
are the words uttered, and Wilson has left her in
despair, than Mary's woman's heart triumphs
over her girlish vanity ; she feels that she
loves Wilson, and would give the world to
recal her words. It is too late, however,
he is gone, and the same woman's heart which would
rejoice over his return forbids her to recal him.
Mary dismisses her " gentleman" lover, and waits in
almost hopeless anxiety for chance to reveal to Wil-
son what she dares not volunteer to tell him. Our
brief summary does but inadequate justice to this
most truthful delineation of those
"Hopes and fears which nourish hope,
An undistinguishable throng,
And gentle wishes long subdued,
Subdued and cherished long."
To come, however, to the grand scene, the master-
, piece of the novel—Henry Carson is murdered, and