The Sun.
London, England, 1857-12-15 00:00:00

LITERATURE.

The Three Clerks ; A Novel, By Anthony Trol-
lope, author of "Barchester Towers," &o. 3 vols.
Bentley.
This work will greatly raise the author's reputa-
tion. The readers of his former works will remem-
ber that they displayed no inconsiderable abilitVl
I and skill in delineation of character. They did not,
however, touch the deeper feelings or more serious
principles of life, but contented themselves with
sharp and pleasant satire on some of the dignitaries
of a cathedral town. The present work quits the
cloisters of Barchester for the wilderness of the
modern Babylon, and takes for its victims the mem-
bers of the Civil Service, a less questionable sub-
ject, some may think, than Bishops and Archdea-
cons. But though full of the satiric portraits and
attacks upon conventional absurdities that abound
in "The Warden" and in "Barchester Towers,"
this work occupies a higher position, and claims a
wider range. It shows the dangers of expediency
as opposed to principle ; it paints in vivid colours
the perils of a mis-directed ambition ; it points
the precipice over which talents, energy, affection,
high position, and extended influence will fall at
last if they choose the broad path instead of the
narrow—if they persist in thinking the end justifies
the means. The career and character of Alaric
Tudor are drawn with a force and vitality that
proves the author to possess talents of no common
order. Wile three clerks are all employed in the
Civil Service. Their names are Henry Norman,
"Alaric Tudor, and Charles, his cousin. They are
contrasted with great skill. Henry Norman, the
first introdubed to the realer, is the most high
principled. He escapes serious evils, such as
befal his companions, by his steadiness and
honesty„ but he is not without his faults, being
somewhat unforgiving and obstinate. Though
clever and industrious he is always second to his
friend Marie, who soon distances him in the race
for success and distinction. His more brilliant
talents and versatility, and, alas, his ready adop-
tion of the means at band, whatever their charac-
ter, enable him to rise with surprising quickness in
the social scale. A rivalry in love produces a quar-
rel between him and his friend Noipaan, but he
takes it very little to heart. He prospers in his
love suit, but that can hardly stay him in his course.
He devotes all his time, his talents, his energies to
getting on in life. Excelsior is hie motto, but "he
failed to discover that onwards and upwards were
not the same • that to advance was not necessarily
to ascend." Misled by dishonest speculators with
whom he associated, who laughed him out of his
scruples, and turned him to their own purposes, he
hurried on the road to ruin. His fortune was in-
creasing, his position was high, influence and au-
thority were his,!Parliament was opening its doors,
when a sudden turn of fortune saw him a felon at
the dock. He had committed one of those breaches
of trust which have been, unfortunately, not un-
common, and which are always standing tempting
in the way of him who takes expediency for his
motto instead of honesty. The third clerk, Charley
Tudor, is a very natural character, drawn with
considerable skill. He is a young man of good dis-
position and gay and easy temper, who has come
up from Wales to fill a place in a branch of the civil
service, where discipline is unknown. Without
society or friends, of course he falls headlong into
all sorts of mischief. His career is sketched with
great skill, and it is unfortunately very natural.
These are the three heroes of the story, and of
course there must be three heroines. These are
found in the family of Mrs. Woodward, a widow
lady residing at Hampton. The author's power in
delineatine•. character is shown in his heroines, as
well as in his heroes. They are all charming por-
traits, but strikingly different from each other.
The intellect and decision of the one, the gentleness
and submission of the second, arid the high spirit
and straightforward temper of the third, are well
contrasted. Mrs. Woodward, the mother, is a
pleasing picture, though not very prudent in her
care of her daughters. But the author has given
us some very original specimens of ladies'.conver-
sation. They are not in the habit of talking about
" fools," " spooneys," and such elegant phrases.
We are sorry Mr. Trollope has marred the effect of
his graceful, feminine pictures by such careless
touches. These are only the chief figures ; the
canvas is crowded with minor ones. Tne chiefs of
the rival offices, Sir Gregory Hardlines, Mr. Fidus
Neverbend, Mr. Oldeschole, dm., are all clever por-
traits. The rigidityand exactitude of the "Weights
and Measures" is amusingly contrasted with the negi-
gence and dissipation of the " Internal Naviga-
tion." Then Alarie's speculating as ociates and
all their questionable circle are introduced. Old
Captain Cutwater is a specimen of the ill-used naval
officer, constantly lamenting • the injustice of the
Admiralty. The vigour and variety of the style
may be shown by the following extracts. Charley
Tudor is describing a romance he is writing, and
ihe author takes the opportunity to ridicule some
prevailing follies
" In the first paragraph, Sir Anthony Allan-a-dale
is lying dead, and the Baron of Ballyporeen is rtand-
ing over him with a bloody sword. You must alwa3s
begin with an incident now, and then hark back for
your explanation and description • that's what the
editor says is the great secret of the present day, and
where we beat all the old fellows that wrote twenty
years ago."
"Oh !--yes—l see. They used to begin at the be-
ginning ; that was very humdrum."
A devilfish bore, you know, for a fellow who takes
up a novel because he's dull. Of course he wants his
fun at once. If you begin with a long history of
who's who and all that, why he won't read three
pages; but if you touch him up with a startling
incident or two at the first go off, then give him a
chapter of horrors, then another of fun, then a little
love, or a little slang, or something of that sort, why
you know, about the end of the first volume, you may
describe as much as you like, and tell everything about
everybody's father and mother for just as many pages
as you want to fill. At least that's what the editor
says.
‘" Meleager ab ovo' may be introduced with safety
when you get as far as that," suggested Norman.
" Yes, you may bring him in too, if you like," said
Charley, who was somewhat oblivious of his classicali-
ties. Well, Sir Anthony is lying dead and the Baron
is standing over him, when out comes Sir Anthony's

retainers
" Out—out of what ?''
" Out of the castle : that's all explained afterwards
Out come the retainers and pitch into the Baron til
they make mincemeat of him."
" They don't kill him, too ?"
"Don't they though? I rather think they do, and
no mistake."
" And so both your heroes are dead in the first
chapter."
" First chapter! why that's only the second para-
graph. I'm only to be allowed ten paragraphs for each
number, and I am expected to have an incident for
every other paragraph, for the first four days."
" That's twenty incidents."
" Yes,—it's a great bother finding so many—l'm
obliged to make the retainers come by all manner of
accidents ; and I should never have finished the job if I
hadn't thought of setting the castle on fire. `And now
forked tongues of liquid fire and greedy lambent lames
buret forth from every window of the devoted edifice.
The devouring element—'. That's the best passage in
the whole affair."
" Well, the retainers had no sooner made mincemeat
of him, than they perceived that Sir Anthony was lying
with an open bottle iu his hand, and that he had taken
poison."
" Having committed suicide ?" asked Norman.
" No, not at all. The editor says that we must always
have a slap at some of the iniquities of the times. He
gave me three or four to choose from ; there was the
adulteration of food, and the want of edecation for the
poor, and street music, and the miscel!aneoua sale of
poisons."
"And so you chose poisons and killed the Knight ?"
" Exactly ; at least I didn't kill him, for he comes
all right again after a bit. He had gone out to get
something to do him good after a hard night, a seidlitz-
powder, or something of that sort, and an apothe-
cary's apprentice had given him prussic acid in mis.
ake."
" And how is it possible he should have come to life
after taking prussic acid?"
" Why, there I have a double rap at the trade. The
prussic acid is so bad of its kiad, that it only puts him
into a kind of torpor for a week. Then we have the
trial of the apothecary's boy; that is an excellent episode
and gives me a grand hit at the absurdity of our crimi-
nal code."
" Why, Charley, it seems to me that you are hitting
at everything."
"Oh ! ah ! right and left, that's the game for us
authors. The press is the only ccnser MOMM going now
—and who so fit ? Set a thief to catch a thief, you
know. Well, I have my hit at the criminal code, and
then Sir Anthony comes out of his torpor."
"But how did it come to pass that the Baron's sword
was all bloody 1"
" Al', there was the difficulty ; I saw that at once. It
was necessary to bring in something to be killed, you
know. I thought of a stray tiger out of Wombwell's
menagerie ; but the editor says that we must not trespass
against the probabilities, so I have introduced a big dog.
The Baron had come across a big dog, and seeing that
the brute had a wooden log tied to his throat, thought
he must be mad, and so he killed him."
Here is a specimen of the author's power in more
serious scenes. Alaric is summoned to his trial at
the Old Bailey:—
,4 He had hardly finished his enforced breakfast when
the cab and the lawyer came to the door. The learned
gentleman had the good taste not to come in, and so the
servant told them that Mr. Gltemthrnet was there.
Say that your master will be with him in a
minute,' said Gertrude, quite coolly ; and then the room
door was again closed, and the husand and wife had
now to say adieu.
" Alaric rote from his chair and made a faint at-
tempt to smile, Well, Gertrude,' said he, it has
come at last.'
" She rushed into his embrace, and throwing her
arms around him, buried her face upon his breast.