The Sun.
London, England, 1834-12-16 00:00:00

LITERATURE,

THE BETROTHED.
FROM' THE ITALIAN OF ALESSANDRO MA NZONI.

Complete in Vol. London, Richard Bentley. 1834.

We cannot sufficiently commend the pure discrimi-
nating taste which suggested the incorporation of the
" Betrothed" among our standard novels. We have
passed weeks and months together in the perusal of
novels and romances ; we have retired to rest, appa-
rently, with a first volume in our hand, and risen with
a third ; yet a tale which more deeply affected us than
the " Bctrothed,'"we never read. It is beautifully simple,
and religiously awful. The characters are in the most
perfect keeping throughout ; and every now and then
comes up some touch of feeling, which vibrates to
the innermost core of the heart. The scene in
which the tale is laid is the banks of the Lake of
Como, and the adjoining country, including the city of
Milan ; and the period to which it relates, the begin-
ning of the 17th century. The beauty of the cha-
racters is in the fine contrast which they form, and the
illustrated power of early habits on the mind. Per-
heps four characters more marked and original than
those of the celebrated Cardinal Borromeo, Arch-
bishop of Milan, the Unknown, Gertrude, and Don
Abbondio, the Curate, were never attempted to be
drawn in a tale of fiction. The author has done
justice to the good Cardinal, who was, without
question, one of the most truly religious, and truly
amiable men that ever existed. The wretched
Gertrude is an awful example of the effects
of mistaken compulsory piety. We pity—we
almost Weep for the miserable woman, in the midst
of her crimes, till we come to where she begins to
question Lueg in her closet, when we start back with
horror; and ask ourselves, " Is this human nature
None but a person to whom the interior of a convent
was familiar could have imagined this admirable scene.
It is true—too true ; but the truth is not of every-day
life. Gertrude's history is known to us the moment
we see her standing by the grated window to rsceive
Lucy ; but we do not so easily divine the disgusting
purport of her inquiries. Yet the author employs no
words to disclose this master touch of pourtrayed
character, and familiar intercourse with the secret
recesses of the cloistered bosom. He merely tells
us she laughed—laughed bitterly and scornfully at
the fears of the innocent girl, and we know all—we
understand every thing ! Fearful as is the story of
Gertrude, it owes nothing of its deep interest to the
imagination of the author. Every convent in Italy,
whether the receptacle of monks or nuns, could supply
an original in all but exalted birth. The most
affecting pact of the volume is the repentance of the
Unknown. His interview with the Cardinal—the
dexterity with which the holy man caught the moment
when he saw God was at work within the bosom of
the haughty criminal—and the genuine affection with
which the Prelate embraced and welcomed back to the
fold the proud, irresolute, blood-stained Chief,
will draw tears from eyes the least accustomed
to shed them over the pages of a novel. The
habitual fear of Don Abbondio, the curiosity of Per-
petua, the impatience of Lorenzo, the struggle between
superstitious piety and real love in Lucy, and the re-
signed yet energetic devotion of Father Christopher,
are all equal in their way to anything we have ever
read. None but a close observer of nature under the
greatest variety of forms, could mark half the little
touches ill which the author shows the perfect mastery
which he possesses over his characters. The Curate
listlessly kicking the stones out of his path as he re-
cites his office, his breviary held behind his back when
the Coyiteors, Misereres, Paternosters, and other parts
which he has by heart are to be repeated—Perpetua
tending her master the glass of wine, yet holding it
back as if she only gave it on condition of being
made a partner in his secret—the Sextons alarming
the neighbours by tinkling the Church bell—the
impatience of Jervase and Tony to communicate the
secret which they possessed between them for very
different reasons—arid the arguments with which
Lorenzo endeavours to persuade Lucy that she cannot
and ought not to become a Nun—are all strikinc, in-
stances of this power. The descriptions of the insur-
rection, and of the plague in Milan, are given with
great force and historical correctness.

This admirable tale, which as we already said,
IS comprised in one volume, forms one of Bentley's
choice collection of Standard Novels, now publishing
at six shillings each It is impossible to conceive a
better opportunity for possessing oneself of the finest
works of imagination, than is presented by the monthly
issue of these volumes. The sum is so moderate that
the poorest mechanic would hardly miss it ; and if he
have a grown-up family of daughters, it is fifty to one,
but in addition to the amusement which it affords, the
volume will save the price of itself, which would be spent
for any kind of trash to be procured at a penny circulat-
ing library. To people of rank the saving may appear of
no consequence ; but even they will easily perceive the
importance of being saved the risk of leaving the choice
of such books to the taste and discretion of governesses,
and the caprice of the thousand and one patronesses of
genius, who are always endeavouring to direct the novel
reading taste of the Aristocracy.

BURNS'S WORKS. VOL. VIII.
London : Cochrane. 1834.

Mr. Allan Cunningham has now completed his task,
and in his Preface observes of it, modestly enough,
" I am not unconscious of having given to the world
the most complete and elegant edition which has yet
appeared of the works of Robert Burns." This praise
we are quite willing to accord to Mr. Cunningham, but
when he adds, " In editing the productions of one who
wrote freely and sometimes fiercely, I have given pain,
I fear, to the over-sensitive ; but I never wantonly
offended—nay, I have been mild where I might have
been stern, had sternness been necessary," we must enter
our protest against his self-complacency. True, he has
been mild—exceedingly mild—but it was when stern-
ness would have been more appropriate. In speaking,
for instance, of the flagrant conduct of the Scottish aris-
tocracy towards poor Burns, whom they first raised into
a prodigy, and then spurned from them with contempt
and obloquy, Mr. Cunningham uses the language of re-
gret rather than of indignation—is discreet to a miracle
—" roars an it were any nightingale." Methinks, the
broken heart of Burns should have inspired him with
deeper feelings, and suggested stronger language. How-
ever, we observed on this at the time, and shall not
therefore, here enlarge on it, further than to observe,
that so long as the name of Burns shall survive (and
if we mistake not, it is entwined indissolubly with our
ln so long shall those who threw him away from
fro them
with scorn be remembered to their dishonour.
The present volume, in addition to two highly-finished
engravings, one of the Harbour of the town of Ayr,
and the other of the Pier of Leith, from designs fur-
nished by Hill, contains afire-simile—the first we have
yet seen—of Burns's handwriting. We have been much
struck with this autograph—for it is eminently
characteristic, being full of boldness, vigour, and penned
in such breathless haste, as if in the rapid flow of his
thoughts, the writer had not time to pause and con
nect his letters. Mr. D'lsraeli, if we remember, has
a curious chapter on handwritings ; and most assuredly
`hat of Burn:; judging at least from the spec;m?n
now lying before- us—will not belie his theory, that,
in nine cases out of ten, they are unerring indices of