The Sun.
London, England, 1826-07-21 00:00:00

LITERATURE.

KR JOHN CHIVERTON, a Romance, London, 1826, Bvo.
pp. 317,

This very interesting publication is evidently the
produetion of a young but powerful mind, deeply im-
bued with the love of romance, and chivalrous daring.
The scene is laid at Chiverton Hall, in ono of the
Northern Counties of England, where the Author's
fancy luxuriates with the mighty shadows of other
days, conjuring up the beauty and wildness of witch-
' ins scenery, blended with a mysterious agency—ro-
mantic recollections—lady's love, and vengeful pas-
sions bursting into action, till their conflict "breathes a
browner horror o'er the woods." The Author dwells,
perhaps, too long upon some of his descriptive scenes,
for the reader- becomes too much interested in the
story to muse over the pictured beauty of a landscape,
however true to Nature. We are of opinion that the
Dramatis Persona of this Romance, would figure
passing well on the stage, and have no doubt that
some ingenious master of the ceremonies, will take
advantage of our hint, for the whole character of the
story is perfectly dramatic, and is worked up to intense
interest. Sir John Chiverton and his sister Ellice,
are living on their ancestral patrimony, which had
been bequeathed by their grandfather to Ellice, and
her heirs, but Sir John contrives to keep her in igno-
ranee of this ,good fortune, and entertains a deadly
enmity to her lover Prestwyche, for some unexplained
cause. He manages to deceive them both, by making
each believe the death of the other. He is himself in
love with, and going to be married to, the daughter
and heiress of a powerful Knight. In the manage-
ment of his schemes he is assisted by two agents, his
family doctor, a second lago, and a pantomimic
Moor. The story goes on with mingled interest,
anguish and hope, concluding rather abruptly for the
perfect winding up of the plof—but the curtain falls
with dramatic effect. The language is often very
poetical, and the images natural. The character of
Chiverton is strongly, pourtrayed, and contrasts well
with the heartless, unperturbable malignity of Scymel.
The motto " she died before her time," is very
apposite.
The story opens with a picture of Chiverton Hall
in its pristine beauty and magnificence, contrasted with
its present decay and ruined grandeur. A hawking
party sets forth from the castle, and Ellice is plunged
from her palfrey into a river, from which she is miracu-
lously rescued by her lover, Reginald Prestwyche,
who bears her into a cavern in a state of insensibility.
While endeavouring to restore her at the genial blaze,
with all the tender solicitude of a lover, Ellice is
fiiintly endeavouring to rise, to assure her deliverer of
her recovered sensibility, when—
Their eyes met. The effects of the recognition that
ensued were equally remarkable and instantaneous. With a scream
of astonishment, she sprung from her recumbent posture : gazed
for a moment wildly and fearfully, as if doubting whether he who
stood before her was indeed a living form ; and unable from weak-
ness to retain her upright position, would have fallen on the earth,
had not an arm been ready to receive and support her, though
i
from its violent trembling, and the' agtated demeanour of the
stranger, it :night have been doubted which was really most in
need of assistance. As she lay in her deliverer's arms, a violent
shuddering passed over her frame : she raised her eyes as it ceased,
fearfully to the stranger's—" It is—it must be he !'
"Doubt it not, my Ellice," returned the stranger ; " doubt, not
that it is thy Reginald ; who hoped not that these lips again
should' call thee his, or these arms e'er fondly clasp the form that
passion they
,one,ey feigned. Why "ceases the
heart that hays forgot to feel should teach the lips to forget to
'‘Paanow"kNtali trembles
ye; ett°hillittgeainalr"d‘w.nho---interill"pwitedlyElitalkice ;of hope, when
the wish was wan
Once ypoieusssauvroere; tiieosenth.srotie iinnyw.oular heart •. whose
not to behold her whom
your
once the aim of all your
smile was once
cares, Z„ nn said so thenn believing the
words,
and thinking th an
I,
Pnnr
fool,
at—that I was loved
gi Thinking that thou
" nice, my nwort, loved !" exclaimed the stranger ;
day bath witrieilepw.no longer mine—torture me not too far—o_
hopeless misery have
vrnittglilit hash wituessed—montbs-7year
doubt—to
mock—to insult me thus.
" Were it not tender,. Thy
my love; and now to
ey,dheart was wont to be tender.."
re
even beyond a woman,. folly, thou weeping maiden,
these idle tears should, ere tbie,
remembered not his vows, save
bev ou wmildst not see me tender
0:
Which they were spent; formed:: ftnYs, " light as the air in
summer hour; but fated to destroy the or the brief endurance of
ka
c ceased to flow for one
.wb
they seemed the breathings of sioar'
I thought I could have been," hy. But this is weaker than
Peace of a heart, to wine
Continued she withdrawing herself