The Sun.
London, England, 1860-09-18 00:00:00

dazzling Flora,who had really nothing but her pretty
face, devoid of all intellectal and softening attrac•
tions to add to her gifts, the brightness without
which they would soon be lustreless to the eye of
refinement, and the influence which could alone
impress the beholder worth caring for. Mr. 11lor-
daunt does not appear very:prominently; his brightest
moments are certainly his last on the scene of
action, when he appears suddenly before the trea-
cherous girl, and surprising her in all the trumpery
of her fancy-dress, as she prepared to depart for a
ball which she had promised not to attend, as one
ill suited for one about to become the wife of a cler-
gyman. In the few brief but impressive words there
delivered, Henry Mordaunt redeems in some mea-
sure his previous folly and weakness, and vindicates
his strength of purpose and clearness of perception.
In the zeal for his outraged dignity, in the noble
scorn for the weak and wicked pleasure-seeker
beside him, he rises to the height that is due, and

rebukes in the offended majesty of an outraged faith
the girl who had appropriated his affections to
trample them in the dust. She had hard work in
all her pride to rush to the scene of vanity in be-
coming spirits, and conscience whispered that her
good angel was bidding her farewell. This is a
very effective story, and well exemplifies the object
proposed. We meet with variety of subjects for
contemplation, from the tranquil scenes of the
Rectory to the bustle and excitement of the gay city
of Bath. A solemn warning is brought before us
of the vanity of all mortal triumphs, when the poor
old lady of fashion, Lady Crampton, is struck by
paralysis in the midst of a brilliant ball in the
Assembly-rooms, and is borne senseless in her
rouge, point lace, and diamonds through the giddy
throng of dancers, who thus had forced npom them,
as by the apparition at the Egyptian feasts of old,
the ghastly reflection "To this complexion must
we come at last." " Carsdale Rectory" is a novel
that contains much to amuse the reader, and also
much to arouse the attention and awaken thought.
Many may ask themselves, how many prototypes to
Flora Lonsdale are being trained up in what are
vaunted as the bright and blessed homes of Eng-
land, to go forth to shine one fitful moment,
and then retire in the shade to mourn the
waste of life and dread the coming of death ?
How few Eleanor Stuarts may be found in the
walks of life, who will enter on every gay scene
to please others and amuse herself, but who is ever
ready to hurry away to the couch of the sick and
the chamber of the dying. Only those like her
can bear to think that one day such a scene
will be enacted by them, and that if they are long
spared they must stand aside and let fairer and
younger creatures claim their honours. In the
-dignity of their lives and the elevation of their
feelings they can look back without regret to the
lost brightness of youth ; or, if they must mourn
over the past, still their soma* is not embittered
by angry. recollections of envy and hatred. This
work is in its way a successful attempt to stigma-
tise the folly and wickedness of those who foster
the young in such paths, instead of holding them
back and directing their energies to safer courses.
It is said that Mrs. George Lonsdale, when she
listened in delight to the parting words of Mor-
daunt and Flora, should have heard ringing in
her ears the fatal denunciation that shall remain
valid and lasting till time shall be no more—
" Cursed is he who maketh the blind to go out of
his way." It will be found, therefore, that there
is ample scope for entertainment in these volumes,
and abundant matter for interest in the discussion
of their eventful pages. Some passages express
deep feeling, and present striking instances of the
melancholy results of over-ambition, and the sad
end that waits on the efforts of those who build
their edifices on the shifting sands of worldly
plans and projects. It is not likely that it will
result in failure, with such excellent principles to
give it stability, and such attractive materials to
work out its designs.

All .Round the Trrehin. By 'Walter White, author
of " A Londoner's Walk to the Land's End," &c.

Chapman and Hall.
Mr. White's pleasaitt annual volumes of trave,
are now one of the recognised features of the autumn
book season. Year by year he takes his month's
pedestrian trip, penetrating odd localities, where
guide books scorn to linger, and exploring
quiet nooks and shady byeways, where
railways are unknown. Most of his excursions
have been among our English shires, and it is not
too much to say that he has done more than any
other writer of the day to familiarise Englishme:
with the local features of their own country. He
has told us of the rough miners of Cornwall, and
the half civilised denizens of the Scilly Islands; of
the sturdy Yorkshiremen, with their shrewd heads
and broad tongues; of the collieries of Newcastle,
and the quaint and lonely lives of the shepherds on
the border; taking us, too, on some occasions across
the channel, and introducing us to the homely and
simple ways of the peasants of the Vaterland. He
takes the title of his present work from a Shrop-
shire proverb, but he does not confine himself
to the immediate vicinity of the stately
old hill, for many of his chapters are
devoted to Birmingham, and the trades of that
busy city 'fill a great part of his book. We have
accounts of wire- drawing and hook and eye making,
descriptions of brass and iron foundries, visits to
steel-pen and plate-glass works, and many other
manufactures. The writer has evidently watched
the processes carefully, and has described them very
fully for the benefit of the uninitiated. He gives
us, too, a vivid picture of the Black Country, which
we transcribe :