The Sun.
London, England, 1856-07-17 00:00:00

the guardian of Sybil Moore. Nor was her fathe
mistaken. Nowhere could a more zealous, efficient,
or upright depository of the important duty have
been found. The faults, as usual with the young
lord, were on the surface. His manners undid
the works his mind planned so well. He was par-
ticular in one thing—he placed his young ward
with a relation of his father's, who lived in the
vicinity of Beauchamp Park. With this kind.
friend and his wife and daughter Sybil was parti-
cularly fortunate. Annette Beauchamp is a most
winning character—one of those rare and gentle
beings who are ever intent on serving others. It
is impossible to exaggerate the good effected by
such natures in a world of selfishness, and Sybil
was among the many who was improved by the
modest village maiden. Sybil Moore was wilful
and passionate, impossible to be governed by force,
but easily influenced by love, and affected by the sight
of virtue. She showed her intrinsic good disposition
by conforming herself to the simple ways of her
new home, instead of pining after the banished
splendours-of -her former life where she had been
" a leading. star to every eye," from her beauty,
grace; and- accomplishments. Lord Singleton did
not try to influence her, but commanded, and she
unwilling to submit to one so near her own age

resisted, and the consequence was continual
struggles for supremacy. After many troubles
Sybil resolved to visit some of her former friends,
who were anxious to see her again. Her guardian
knew that if he spoke no'use would be gained ; he
therefore sought his constant helper in all emer-
gencies, the playmate of his boyhood, the com-
panion of his youth, the gentle Annette Beau-
champ. He little knew the suffering he was giv-
ing to her when having begged her to dissuade her
friend from the journey, he went on to confess that
the real reason that formed the difficulty of his
communicating with Sybil was his own attachment
to her. For once the spirit ready to help the
troubles of others was lost in its own bitterness.
" There are climates in which the sun goes down
suddenly, and while it is day no twilight prepares
the mind for the shadows of night. So suddenly
went down the sun of Annette's existence. What
a single word can do !" Rousing herself she pro-
mised to do her utmost. I; failed, however, and
Sybil went away. Soon after her departure the
summons came to Annette. Always delicate, the
shock she had mentally sustained, joined o the
effects of a cold winter, laid her low. Trouble
was paramount. in _ the once happy. village.
The young lord had always been warned to be
careful of his sight. He neglected the warning, and
just at this period he began to feel symptoms of a
caming evil. Sybil returned unharmed by contact
with frivolity to see her dying friend. On her
deathbed Annette abjured her to overcome her
pride, and follow the dictates of her real feelings
should Lord Singleton again seek her hand. In a fit
of ang,,r and misapprehension, Sybil had rejected
him before her visit to London. Awed by the
solemnity of the scene, Sybil promised, if the op-
p tueity again occurred, to agree. Annette
rightly judged her friend in thinking that the
affliction in prospect would hasten instead of delay
her generous nature, to agree to share the lot and
walk in the path of one whose way on earth had
been darkened by the hand of God, possibly to
show him that Heaven's sweetest blessings might
yet be his—sympathy and affection. While she
sunk to her last ; est, happy iu this conviction, very
different was the reality. Never would the-proud
young lord lee beholden in darkness to one who had
scorned him in light. • He maintained a friendly
intercourse with her, but that was all. Previous
to this time he had resigned the trust reposed in
him to Mr. Beauch trap, so now no tie connected
them. The long winter he passed in town, trying
reaie lies that resulted in total blindness, was au
eventful one to Sybil. She learned to know her-
self. What ail the excellence of her former guar-
dian cowl I not in the least degree do for her, she
did alone in the house darkened by death. Many
events occurred which tested the newly-acquired
humility of the learners of life's lessons. A cousin
of Hugh's, to whom he had been very kind, now
in his turn strove to cheer the sad life, by pointing
out to him what an observer can often find—the
truth—while those concerned are ignorant. Pride
had its last.struple here, but finally succumbed,
and the result was, the union of two haughty na-
tures as ever existed. Both had been trained since
they first met, one by the destruction of his hopes,
and the other by their fulfilment. Sybil never
suffered more than when left to herself, while
Hugh Beauchamp never felt more real satisfaction
than when dependent on kindness. All showed
it to him, which triumph his proud spirit never
achieved, in its days of strength and splendour.
It may seam a sad end to the record of youth and
beauty, the pride of man, and the love of woman,
but all those advantages did not give satisfaction,
much less peace, when possessed, and their depri-

. .
ration showed the way for better things to comein
their stead. " Not enjoyment and not sorrow" is
the best and wisest description of life that the
poet can picture or the novelist portray. This is
peculiarly the representation here given of exist-
ence. The last words spoken by th young lord,
as they wanderetrat evening over his splendid do-
main, were called forth by some exclamation of
delight by Sybil. Then, when thinking of her
matchless beauty, that had charmed him so often,
now never t) be beheld, he said, "Oh, Sybil, to
think I shall never ;see you !" This is, after all,
a real harbinger of human life ; something is
wanted, or desired, or missed; some treasure is
lost, or found too late. The narratives that show
all to be straight at last are fabulous in their in-
stability, without the moral of the fahle. Without
trenching on subjects unsuited to the consideration
of the pages of fiction, the detailer of the events
of life, should make manifest, by the tone of the
composition, by the spirit if not the letter, that
undimmed lustre can only shine where the eyes
of the bliud shall be opened. Such considerations
refer only to the higher class of works, to which
this book pre-eminently belongs. It is adapted to
the taste of the superior in feeling, as much so the
intelligent in intellect. It aspires tJ set forth
unworldly precepts, and to influence in the
direction of a higher than an earthly standard.
All must acknowledge the purity of its motives,
the genuineness of its expressions of feeling, and
the force of its arguments. The story has the in
terest which an earnest mind imparts to everything
under its direction, and will reward reperusal,
when the trifling productions of the hour or the
day are cast aside in weariness of spirit. Enthu-
siasm is not awakened here for any ideal hero or
or heroine ; they are shown faulty and human in
their good, as others are in their evil qualities. A.
fair specimen of the page of existence is unfolded
before us, in which those who appear on the scene,
are by turns influenced by the various ruling pas-
sions of human nature. As the plants are braced
by the rude storms, and nurtured by the gentle
showers, while their blossoms unfold in beauty,
some reclining in the shade of earth, others shining
in the light of heaven ; so the germs of the cha-
racters are trained by different agencies, varying
in action, uniting in thought, constituting the
course of what the authoress has graphically and
emphatically described, as the discipline of life.
With so momentous a subject, it is not a matter of
surprise that the work should be the exp )nent of
deep feelings, as it is the in lication of lofty prin-
ciples ; that it should seek the approval rather than
the admiration of its readers; and, looking through
' Nature up to Nature's God, draw the inspiration
of its eloquence from the shrine of truth.