The Sun.
London, England, 1858-06-30 00:00:00

LITER., AT 1:12.E.

HARRISON AINSWORTH'S NEW STORY.
Mervyn, Clitheroe. Parts XI. and XII. By W.
Harrison Ainsworth. Illustrated by "
G. Routledge and Co.
The completion of Mervyn,Clitheroe brings us to
the close of Mr. Ainsworth's Fifteenth Romance,
and to the termination of about the Fiftieth sub-
stantial volume, contributed by his rapid end
industrious hand to the abundant stores cf our
national imaginative literature. Fifteen Romances
—beginning,.in-1826, wilt Sir John, Chivorton. !
Fifty volumes, more or less, inaugurated by his
little accumlation of collec.ed magazine contribu-
tions, entiled December Tales, published by Whit-
taker : papers originally contributed by our author
to the periodicals of the day before he was yet
nineteen : Conspicuous among them, his story of
the "Falls cf Ohiofyle," first given to tho world
in the pages of the once fatuous Llncion magazine
—Taylor aid Hessey's Magazine, the magazine of
E:ia end of so many other wits and wags of rare
humour and radiant imagination. Half a hundred
goodly volumes, 'including among them separate
poems, like The Maid's Revenge, or a companion
metrical effusion like The Summer Evening's Tale.
Books, then, written, prin• ed. and published. while
Harrison Ainsworth was still under age, still an
infant according to law—though the laborious and
precocious student had begun as a writer long
before the appearance of thse daring adventures
into the dreamlands of the poetical visionary and
of the prose roinancist. Sixt,en years at;o, poor
Laman Blanchard told in the tLen tiourish'ng
"Mirror," how his author friend even in childhood
apprenticed himself to light literature ; bow he,
too, like Talfourd and Chatterton, and s 3 many
others proved to be—
" A youth for'doomed his father's hopes to cross,
Who penned a stanza when he should engross."

Designed by his father to be a conveyancer, he
became thus prematurely a " dreamer of dreams"
and a teller of wild romantic stories. So that,
while yet hardly out of the nursery, he wits eveu
then writingplaye, pakintiug scenes, mating dresses,
and enacting the chatacters of his own creation in
an impromptu theatre of his own construction,
built away covertly in the shady recesses of the
house cellarage ! Al'eady as a schoolboy he was
writing. largely in the kiss, a literary weskly
journal, published in those times in his native place,
the borough (since the city) of Manchester. While
yet a stripling, be brings out in fact a theati ical
publication, written wholly by himself, a periodical
work, called The Bcrotian, But his first produc-
tion of a really ambitious kind was reserved for
a little while afterwards. William Harrison Ains-
worth comes of age, attains his majority, and,
thereupon, A.D. 1826. Ebars, bookseller, pub-
lisber, manager of the King's dpera House, after.
wards moreover the young novelist's fsthet-in-1 tee,
issues through the press the book atready men-
tioned, the romantic creation of " Chiverton."
Well do we remember reading the book years ago,
and being lured with a sense of horrid fascination
through the subterraneons labyrinths of those grim
passages and cavernous glooms honeycombing the
ground of that wild old goblin manor-house. No
Wonder at the time of its appearance there was 'a
complimentary reference to the work in the
Diary of Sir Walter Scott, a casual tri-
bute, giving to the youthful novelist the timbre
of the great Romancist's early and spontaneous ap-
probation. Afterwards—as many as eight years
afterwards, during which time he was don ntless
maturing his powers and proparing for another and
a bolder flight of imagination--in 1831 appeared
his first work in three volumes, perhaps of all the
happiest romance, as a romance, he has ever yet
written, the glorious 'romance of Edoktvood—e-er-
tainly of all these various and undeniably successful
productions, the one containing his most felicitous
lyric—Jerry Juniper's chant ab Jut the roliclting
romany ! And bey °tad this the fiction containing
incomparably the very best of all his wondrous (le-
rciptions—the famous ride to York of Dick Turpin,
the prince of Highwaymen. Subsequently came
in 1837 the romantic historical figment of Crichton
—the Admirable. And two years later there ap- •
neared in " Bentley's Miscellany," on the first of
January, 1839, the introductory chapters of what
the writer first intended to call " Thames Darrell,"
but what he eventually designated Jack k.'heppard.
It was a success far greater as a literary success than
that won hyl Henry Fielding's " Jonathan Wild
the Great." When dramati.ed and put upon tee
stage, it was as much the rage of the town as ever
in its palmiest days was the " Begaat'a Opera" of
Gay. In the midst of its unparalleled triumph,
however, it was denounced as neither of those kin-
dred productions was ever denounced, -as "Jack
Sheppard" indeed alone was ever deneunc:d—as
demoralising, as • deleterions, as a sort, of in• ellec-
tual dram-drinking, maddening and intoxicating
Me-more- ereta We of the frnpilatien. -Big-I/teem
years have gone by since then howbeit, and the
outcry•has long ago been recognised to have been
in every sense monstrously exaug, rated. Jack has
been acted " many a time and oft" during
the interval by Mrs. Keeley and other
vivacious itnpersonators—Paul Bedford has red-
dened his nose and sung the drinking songs as Blue-
skin with inimitable gusto—the prison breaker has
worked his way out of Newgate again and again,
amidst the applause of crawded boessa--the book ,
has been printed and reprinted by thousands and
tens of thousands -; and the indignation against it

has me awhile died out r-o entirely that we do not
conceive the author's reputation has in any way
whatever been deteriorated by it, even temporarily.
It was shortly atter the commencement of Jack's
adventures upon his first periodical appearance
thatllr. Aine worth (on the retirement of Boz from
the editorial chair) first of all in the early part of
1839—now Learly twenty years ago—undertook
the editorship of Bentley's Miscellany. Thirteen
years have elipsrd, moreover, by this time since,
in 1845, he purchased from Mr. Colburn the s.ile
proprietorship of the other serial, he has since
then conrinuously edited the only surviving three-
and-sixpenny first class serial—the It ew Monthly
Magazine. Notwielistanding his editorial laboure,
sometimes single, and certainly then sufficiently
arduous, but latterly double--yet not even then
exhausting or impracticable to this most indefatig-
able man oef-letters —notwithstanding his editorial
labouts begun here as early as twenty, there tier-
t,'en years age, how waey popular fictions Harrison
Ainsworth has himself printed during the interval
—besides beginning and ending during this long
lapse of time the cereer of his own (eve', by n one
essentially his own) periodical, A insWo►ti es Maga-
zine. 'Simultaaeouslr, in 1849, ide bj• side,
month by month each illustrated by G,orge
' Cruikslaank Guy Fawkes, with all tee hair-
breadth dangers run by himself and his accomplices
in the Gun Powder Oenspiraey, and the other and
very different historical romance, illustrative of
The Tower of London as a Palace, as a Pi icon, and
as a Forttese Next, nay, in the very year to low-
ing, Lamely in 1841, there appeared from week t,)
week in the columns of a- Sunday newspaper the
enthralling tale of the Fire and Plague—Old Saint
Paul's. Almost simuteeneously with one another
appeared in 1842, anther "brace" of romances of
the olden time—February witnessing the cow mence-
ment of The Miser's Daughter, and July that of the
giegeous Tudor narrative of ll' tndsor castle as it
was in the daya ef Henry the Eighth and Herne he
Hunter. The last mentioned work being brought
to a close in 1843, there began to appear in 1844
the other kindred liistoricsl ramence of &tint
James's—descriptive of ;ho Court of Queen Anne,
in what Tennyson calls—
" The tea-cep times of hoop and heoel."
The subsequent year saw our novelie, as wo have
said, the purchaser of the late Mr. Coinurn's Maga-
zine, a periodical which claims for itself the glory
of having among its previous editors Theodore
Hook, the wit, Thomas Campbell, the poet, Thomas
Hood, both alike, and Bulwer-Lytton, those and
a great many other characters besides. Another
imaginative tale two summers after was contributed
by Mr. Ainsweeth to the Sunday newspaper whose
columns he had in e similar way previously embel-
lished. This time namete, iulB4B, the weekly serial
in questiniewas his noreiern romance of The Lanca-
shire Intchcs. in each instance the journal paid
him a thousand poands for his contribution. Be-
sides the foregoing how many other tales and ro-
mances have been penned by Ainsworth? There
is Auria, the "fragment of a romance''—if we
mistake not, theeame originally called the "Revela-
tions of London." There is tbeElitelt of Bacon, illus-
trative of the famous custom of Dun mow—e cer-
tom long fallen into disuctude, but one which this
ale actually revived with all the an tiqu epageautries
of the fantastic procession. Then thi-ye was the
recen'ly completed story of a century ago, pub-
lished in "Bentley," and en titled The ;.•:pendthrift, a
tale in its social and moral design eminently Heger-
thian. As indt cd, in one sense, had been i s more
predecessor., "Jack Sheppard "--Jack
Sheppard and Thames Darrell being very striking
types indeed of the industrious and idle app.9-
tices. Lastly, there is this story of modem iife
and "living manners" but just now happily
bi ought to its conclusien. In its appearance there
occurred, as many of the readers of Mervyn
Clitheroe will well remember, a provoking hiatus
.of several years, during the lapse of which i t seemed
at first that the work had been indefinitely sus-
pended, and at last, even to the fancy of some,
definitively abandoned. Fortunately, however,
for those who, litre ourselves, regarded the narra-
tive as in merry respects unusually propitious in its
commencement, the broken threads of the story
were taken up again at last, and the 'weaving of
them. into the iutric4e weele of the ;;lot ro-
ll 3 h", e t b

-
any one would now be able to detect where the
pause occurred in the labour of composition. Al-
ready we have followed the progress of the fiction
eo carefully and watchfully throughout that but
little now remains for us to add in the way of com-
meotary. The closing, double number, comprising
within it eight additional chapters, has brought the
narrative dofrn to a series of the tappiest consum-
mations. As the et.--atnatis personae gather together
before the footlights immediately prior to the final
deseentof the curtain, we are delighted to observe
that the abominable Mrs. Brideoake has thrown
aside her unatniable masquerade and appeared in a
more agreeable light, in 'her true character as Lady
..A.rnicia. r _ledyship, moreover, has been hap-
pily reconciled at last to her family—to her brother,
Lord Leyland—'0 her father, the Earl of Rosen.
dole. nor eon, moreover, is now no longer the
Rev. John Brideoake, a bachelor clergyman—but
my Lord Wilburton, married to Ora, consequently
now my Lady Wilburton. As an equally delight.
ful matter of course, Appbia is the bride of our
young hero Mervyn Clitheroe, who has meanwhile
come at last into possession of his old uncle Mobs
berley'e farm-estate of Nethereeefte It is espe-
cially observable, too, that _Mervyn discovers his
father at last, and this as nearly
very time he obtains li'sass possible at the
property. Another wed-
ding has yet to be mentioned ; to wit, that of
Ora's maiden aunt with Cuthbert Spring, the
merry gentle:uan, and up to that time the isseera
rigible old bachelor. Nay, there are some other
nuptials recorded at the close of the narrativia.
meaning t hose of Molly Bailey with the stately old
Jacobite Butler at the anchorita's, Mr. Comberbach.
While we are conscious of the principal personages
of the fiction thus (in military phrase) dressing up
preparatory to the last simultaneous bow and fare-
well, we are aware of two or three little incidents
occurring in the background : Pownall and the
gypsies being carried off behind the scentless con-
victed delinquents, consigned to protracted and
well-merited punishment. Captain Sate has pre-
viously broken his neck, and died repenting—in
the midst of riding a gay steeplechase. One' of
happiest specimens in "Mervyn Clitheroe." of Mr.
Ainsworth's better manner as a romancist is the
midnight tale of murder told by him as the " Le-
gend of Owlarton Grange," the narrative of the
horrible crime of Jothatn Shoclack and its still
more horrible retribution. It is a fragmentary
passage reminding us vividly of the panel-work
surprises in " Reawood," and of the terrible sub-
terranean vaults and corridors of " Chiverton."
"Inscribed to my contemporaries at the Manchester
school," is the simple but kind'y dedication. An
explicit aud not unwelcome ackuowledgmerst by our
author that the free grammar school at Cotten-
bourgh really does mean in truth what few failed
to conjecture it to be long age the free
grammar-school at Manchester. And in the same
way it is pleasant to think now of the novelist's
ancestral home and domain of Beech-hill, as the
original of the dear old picturesque house either of
the Anchorites or of Nethercrofts. Thither, as
Lamar Blanchard intimated fifteen years ago iu his
memoir of Mr. Ainsworth, our popular novelist
"meditates a row n in maturer life;" adding " But
the metropolis and its neighb errhood, the 'pursuit
of fame, and the fields in which he has grain-red up
many golden sheaves, will long detain him thence
—the delay only tending to enrich his memories,
and double the sweetness of a late retirement."
Fortunately for all his London friends has that u te-
rior removal been thus indefinitely postponed--
driven onwards to the exeremity of that
vague and remote perspective. So that
while our author leaves • Mervyn at last comfort-
ably housed at the Anchorite's, looking in at fre-
quent intervals upon Nod Culcheth, established as a
bailiff at Nethercrofts—he himself happily remains
within reach of the metropolis and its neighbours
hood, while—with the practised skill of one with so
long and brilliant an editorial experience—driving
the literary tandem of the New Monthly Magazine
such Bentley's Miscellany.

The Light of ather Days. By John Edmund
linade, author of " Italy." 3 eels. Hurst and
Blackett.
This work cannot fail to atfract attention, inas-
much as the writer is well-knows by his previous
productions, and also as the volumes before uP, are
distinguished by consist rabic agility. This is no
ephemeral composition, to amuse an idle moment,
but the result of thought, judgment, and reflection,
a refined and cultivated intelligence is brought to
bear ou some of the most important s cial and
literary questions of the age, and while the readers
differ from sours of the arguments, they must sgree
in rendering a tr.bute to the accumulitted Isoow-
ledge that they displsy. It may be ohj-cted that
these dissertations are to frequent and studied,
and that they are more suitasle to the essay,
than b the pages of a novel. The story itself pos-
sesies great interest. Heen Hengist, the heroine,
is one eminently c.alcit'a,ted to excite enthusiasm
for her welfare. She was placed in a
perilous posit ton, but always act-d with discretion,
and at the same time evinced a spirit that on more
than one occasion bore her trittupliantly through
threatened evils. Her home was a most unhappy
one, and she was compelled to leave it on her
mother's death. Her father was a peculiar man,
who gave way 'o his own prejudices, and indulged
his passions till he became, unbearalle. Her bro-
ther was a still greater trial to her. He had early
left the paternal roof, in consequence of serious
altercations with his father; and when once on the
highway of the world, without a guide, lie plunged
recklessly into ad sorts of excesses, and cared
nothing for the feelings of his family, nor the
honour of his name.. To one so sensitively alive
to the requirement.; of justice, and so scrupu-
lous in adhering to the dictates of honour as
Helen, it was a bitter trial to have one so closely
related hy the ties of kindred con tinuslly crossing
her path, and harassing her mind by his dis-
graceful present tours', and the prospect of still
more aggravating actions in the future. One of the
most pleasing of the personages introduced is
"Dame Hengist," as she persisted in styling her-
self. There is a charm about her that insensibly
attracts—something fresh and genial in her style
and manner that wins its way on the regard—whde
the sterling excellencies of her mind, and her many
noble qualities, procure for her at once homage and
respect. She dtspised the honours to whiah she was
entitled by her position, and, indeed, she was not
den endent on adeeseitions aids for priority. It
might truly he said of her—
"'The beauty of a life well spent,
W:cs her majestic ornament.".
Her at •achisent to her humble friend, Mrs. Maude,
is a proof of her kindness of heart, and her sorrow
at Ler death is tcuch ngly desciibed. The design-
ing and treacherous Trioresby is well depicted, and,
it is a retributive scene, in which Sir James Hen-
gist and his servant meet death at each other's
hands The former had trained the latter to his evil
ways, and he had turned round on the min who had
at least benetitted after his own fashion.
The passage which describes the narrator's visit to
the poet in his retiremeet is au interesting one.
The mournfulness which pervades the retrospect of
L.'s life, invests it with a charm and a grace un-
knciwn to a lighter or livelier career. Atter he has
sketched in a focib a insiiner the many obstacles
that b erred his path to fame, and the slights that
had to be endured, and the failures met with, be-
fore his ambition could be gratifies, and the dreams
of his imaginative youth realised, .he enters on
another page of life's history. A. shade falls over
the carter that appeared to promise so bril-
liantly. He who had bsen successful in love
as triumphant in literature, felt the impotence
of this world's greatness, when he laid
his beloved wife in her early grave, which was soon
re-opened to contain their only child. In this
skech there is a solemn earnestness of tone, united
with a depth of feeling and a sunplicity of expres-
sion, that possess interest of no ordinary kind. It
seems the language of one who liss felt what he
utters, and the sympathies of iris hearers are
aroused by the zesital of his struggles, while the
sad tale of his sorrows shares their pity and regret.
There is much to win the attention in this work.
The light of other days generally shines with a sub.
dued splendour, and it is most fitting that a retro-
spective narrative should be ithbued with a melan-
choly hue, as is the one before us ; while many
other causes combine to create for it a regard. In
these pages we meet with much that may give rise
to thought, and the general impression conveyed
to the mind of the reader by their perusal is, that
the work belongs to the superior order of novels.

LETTERS OF CREDIT BILL -A. Eill of Mr. Hord!'ll.
Mr. K. ibr!gson, imlci Mr. thvill makes 1.-tt, re of credit
trenAerable awl liable to bo enforced and Hued upon in
a court of 1a.,/ or gutty, as in the case of a promissory
note parxbler to .rder.

- .
CRYSTAL PA LAoll.—The great RllOO6lOl shish attended
the fir.t apnearance of the Bradford Festival Choral
Society yesterday hats induced the directorA to twangs.
atwitter performance to. morrow (17bursorty1. which will
be their last Appearance at the naval price of admission.
zri LT ILY •tit TR, OF THE est orda T. on
the t.orth bank a the river between Westminster: and
Hungerford Bridges, men were engaged dosing the
period of low water in covering the shore with time, as
al o the shore above Westminster-bridge; and it is pur-
posed that this er periment to destroy the noxious effluvium
shall be carried out along both banks by the local boards
of health of the different parishes within whose districts
the shore is situate, they having the power to make the
outlay for the preservation of the public health. The.
pleasure trail on the Thames has suffered considerably,
and the number, of
passengers travelling by the river
steamers is daily ditainisbiug• The individuals who look
forward to this time of the year to make a little harvest
by the letting of boats are completely at a stands till, and
the only trade which is fourishing on the river :s carried
cz in the ce.:itte, Clite ircpz-abriey ate-i 4 ctt4taat
Eltest