The Sun.
London, England, 1857-12-29 00:00:00

LITERATURE.

Katherine and the Moment of Fortune. Trans.

lated by Lady Wallace. 3 vols. Bentley.

These tales have lost nothing of their national
characteristics 'in the translation; they-are evidently
presented to us by a practised hand, and one well
skilled in the work she has undertaken. Without
being striking in any particular way, they both
certainly repay perusal, especially the latter one—
the " Moment of Fortune "—which is more brief
and definite in its details, spirited in its sketches,
and possesses something piquante and fascinating
in its character which irresistibly engages the at-
tention of the reader. One is partioulariy inte-
rested in the young aide-de-camp, Herr Von Fer-
now, whose straightforward manner and freedom
from guile seem at first sight to unfit him for mix-
ing in a court circle with advantage accruing to
him, but who subsequently fares far better than
those around him versed in the deepest mysteries
of intrigue, and full of stratagem, subterfuge, and
counterplot, whichever way they thought, spoke,
or acted. The chamberlain, Wenden, is a very
amusing study : he was always forming castles in
the air, although his stolid style would have pre-
eluded any casual observer from supposing him
likely to be so fancifully engaged. His favourite
idea was that particular junctures in men's lives
were moments of fortune—that the opportunity
rightly seized would be a golden one. Unhappily
his wisdom did not enable him to perceive which
was the right one of the two paths before him, and
he chose the least felicitous, while his companion,
whom he deemed too simple to achieve anything,
took the tide at the flood, and was soon enabled to
benefit his fotmer counsellor. On the whole, this
sketch of a court is a very brilliant one. "Kathe-
rine," the first story, is rather too elaborate in de-
tail, and falls short of the interest felt for its suc-
cessor. Nevertheless, some of its passages are
exciting, and described with good effect. Eugene,
the hero, is a bold decided nature, and the scenes
in which he appears are always entertaining, and
never pall on the attention. The old market-
woman, too, is quite a character in her way—a
finished specimen of her tribe, which As of more
consequence abroad than at home. Altogether,
these volumes afford an agreeable variety to the
lovers of romance, and many may feel indebted for
some hours' pleasant occupation to their composer
and translator.

Frank, Millward. A novel. By W. Kenriek. 2
vols. Street.

Without making any pretensions, this novel is a
very pleasing one, and presents us with an interest-
ing story, which is written in a clelar and concise
manner. In the course of the narrative some Lac-
siderable variety is met with,' and a good deal of
information may be gleaned concerning different
classes and conditions at the epoch referred to--
the close of the last century. Frank, the hero, is
a very prepossessing character, and his faults (for
he is not represented as one of the imaginary pieces
of perfection) are those of the surface; he is upright
and manly in his mind and manners. He inherits
these qualities from his father, as his mother is not
at all distinguished for mental or moral gifts. The
unmasking of the Jesuit, as it is called, is a very
effective passage, which is well described, and the
artful contrivances and adroit manoeuvres aptly
reveal the characteristics of the sect to which the
deceiver belonged. Many stirring scenes occur
towards the close of the story, where Frank Mill-
waid joins his father•in-law in the Austrian caxa-
paign against Moreau. His adventures in Ireland
furnish a fund of entertainment for those who pre-
fer gayer details. The reader will be at no loss to
find something to amuse and interest him in the
perusal of this novel.

The Cruel Sister : A. Tragedy ; and other Poems.

pp. 184. Smith, Elder, and Co.
Such remarkable promise is given, hero and
there, throughout this charming poetic miscellany,
that we marvel at the modesty dictating its purely
anonymous publication. The young author from
whose hand the volume has emanated, of whose
very heart its verses are occasionally (it is impos-
sible not to recognize this) the effusion—need
assuredly not have hesitated to affix his name
frankly to the title-page. His conspicuous evidence
of power is, undoubtedly—as he himself would
without question desire it should have been--tre-
cognizable in the principal performance in his
maiden-work, the opening poem—a three-aa
tragedy, significantly entitled (so far as regards the
plot), " The Cruel Sister." This production espe-
cially, however—occupying more than half the
book, replete with passion, vivified with poetry-,
abounding with romantic interest and with pathetic
fascination—requires, more than any other per-
formance in the entire collection, consecutive and
careful perusal, to the end that it may be, in any
adequate degree, appreciated. Fragmentary quo-
tation from it, extending though it does as we have
said over no more than three acts, were even less
judicious and in many respects less satisfactory
than a brick from the house of Skolastikos in
Hierocles—the fragment in this instance, however
cunningly selected, would fail even to, afford lib
notion of the character of the materials. Debarred
by this sufficient consideration from giving an ex-
tract from " The Cruel Sister," and yet impressed
ourselves with the general and pervading mcrit of
the composition in its entirety, we very heartily
recommend those readers to its examination who
have a relish for genuine metrical eloquence, all
the more welcome from its undoubted originality.
The Miscellaneous Poems which follow the
tragedy, and diversify the contents while they
enhance the attractions of the volume, are as
various as they are numerous. They are chiefly
pensive in tone and meditative in character.
Several of the minor pieces are really exquisite : as
—among the " Sonnets," for example : a. xiv.--
" The sunshine flashing on the trembling
White stalks of blue bells lush upon the meads—
Winds whistling clearly through the rustling reeds,
And wildly whirling leaves along the
These were enough for thee and me, 0 friend ; _ ,
For the great breath in which our words were drowned,
And the grand solitude that slept around,
Gave more than consecrated walls could lend.

...--- ---
Yet well to see how in this land of ours
The hamlets cluster round the grey church towers !
O well to see men's need :—How hearts are made •
. .

To rise to God and knees are made to fall.
Even London, almost hid from, heaven with trade,
How the gold cross stands calm above it all 1"
Again, how very beautiful the glimpse caught, at
the close of another Sonnet (xxxii.), of the
spreading of a f Dear English landscape that I
know" : •
" The mists slow trailing from the rimy lea,
The orchard sparkling in the sun below,
The huddled sheep beneath the dripping tree.
Tho crisp cut footsteps on the frosty snow."
Altogether, a most acceptiblia offering is this little
nosegay of poetic blooms, breathing sweetly of the
home-soil in which their fibres are rooted, and of
the green lap of earth from which they have
flowered.