The Statesman.
London, England, 1820-02-24 00:00:00

THE STATESMAN.

TIM MYSTERY• on, FORTY YEARS AGO.

A Novel, under the above title, lido just made ifstov
pearance, and the powerful evidence eT;siliatittr rimsM
which its pages unfohl, has led us ta extract from it
few passages, for the amusement of ors readers. Con-
fined space neoessarilv imposes brevity, and we shall
nut, by any lengthened remarks of our.own, subtract
from the superior gratification which the book before us
will undoubtedly impart. The author has seized, with
a masterly hand, perhaps some of the finest possible
materials with which a work of this kind may be con-
strmicted. The period, as the title-page intimates, em-
braces the unhappy times of the Gordon riots, anti, like
the mighty unknown hand (whose power and strength
is probably increased by the half-lifted veil which leaves
the mystery, or at least the unrelieved doubt, behind),
our author enters with the step of confidence into the
very heart of tumult, and represents the scene in all the
vivid glow of life. The first volume is priori pally
occupied with description of this nature, which is
admirably incorporated with the plot. The Ilee(11111 vo-
lume is rendered attractive upon, perhaps, still stronger
ground. It Alum's with the most interesting matter
relating to the travels of our author's hero, who
has left his native country, and by misfortune has be-
come a wanderer in the nnesplored wilds of Africa. In
this part of the work the reader will find a powerful
claim upon his attention, anti numberless inducements
to proceed. The beauty of the style, the continued sue•
cession of incident, an 4 all heightened by the assurance
that time pictures continually passing before his eyes are
not merely the creatures of a nicked imagination. The
author his availed himself, with much ingenuity, of
some MS. papers of a Major Houghton, a traveller is
these regions antecedent to Mango Park. All the nar-
rative, therefore, relating to the country and it. intim.
bitants, will impart a degree of interest and satisfaction,
which the most fantastic attiring. of fancy can never
produce. A Missionary, a character delineated with
skill seldom to be sarpassed, is here introduced. Ili*
death in the desart is sublimity, if it can be attained. The
return of Harley (the hero), after he had long been con-
sidered by his friends as dead, brings us to the pe.msgge
we quote. We have selected it with the inter don of dis•
playing the versatile powers of the author, rather tltan
as firing remarkable for its peculiar force, or for the
beauty of the language. The language, indeed, can
seldom boast of twain/nee; hut we think it is telly be-
cause our author has seldom attempted it. There is not
a spark of affectation in the work. and many passages
being the conviction that he has not taxed his to
the utmost : for it never soars but in the company of per-
fret NM ani :

" She was about to soothe hint, when the servant en-
atered, to say, that a cottager wished to see Sir lieorge on
parish business.
" Dobbs wants to see me on parish business! pooh:
the fellow mast make some mistake. Tell him I have
oothing to do with parish business,'
" • So I told him, Sir lieorp.; but be cried sadly, and
said, if you had not, nobody had.'
" • What: is he in tearsr Tell him I'll come to him.'
" • No, thank yr, Sir; I don't desire that not at all.
I knows better than to expert a great gentleman like
you, will come to we ; walk into eon.' And with
these words Dobbs made his appearance. '
" Thomas, shocked at such ill-breeding. was about to
eject Dobbs, by a very summary proc-ss, but a motion
from the Varonet caused him first to desist, and then to
retire.

" Well, John, what's the matter with you
" ' My mother, Sir—my mother, Sir—site's all gone
mail ; stark mid.'

_
" ' I am sorry for that; hnt what can I do?'
" If yun please, Sir, we are afeard she'll do herself
hops mischief: so they toll we I ought to get a strait,
wa-stcoat for her, from parish °Seers, to put ow her.'
" • The visite was good; but I bare nothing to do
with parish utfizers. To some of them yot had how
aPPIY.. •
" yonr Honour and Miss pleases, so I Jid, before
I made so bold as to come to you.'
" ' Whom did you go to?'
" • First of all, I went to our beadle, Litt he said I
must go 'o the constable.'
" • Well then, you should hare gone to him.'
" ' So I diet ; beet he said it was'nt his business, and I
must go to the worahouses
" • Did you go there?' ,
" ' Yes, I did, and I saw Mr. Starrett) himself. and he
said he could not let me hare what 1 wanted, without a
order from the overseer.'

: •• • What did you do then ?'
" ' I went to overseer, but he was out : so I waited by
his door, and when he corned home he gave me the
order.'
Well; and did any new difficulty arise?'
No, Sir, not in getting the jacket. I went bark to
the workhouse, and got that ; but when I got home
again, with the man who was to pot it on, poor 'nether
bad locked, herself in with one of firmer Wilson's chil-
dren, and was screaming out quite loud, that she would
kill the boy. So I was going to
.hurst open the door,
but the men from the workhouse would'ot let me, as they
said they had no right to break into a house, without
!Grit asking a lawyer; to I went to Mr. Parchment, hut
he's gone to London ; and then we went to Parson,
but he's at dinner, and can't be strokes to; and so we
come to ask you, if so be is we mny break in ?'
. " ' What ! can there be a question about forcing a
kirk, when the life of a human bring is at stake? Break
the door down instantly ; I'll answer for it.
i" ' Yes, sir; but you would not be so kind, would
you, as just to step out and tell 'em so ; they won't take
a poor man's word ; and Mr. Tlhhot, the landlord, says,
he won't have his bowie knocked about, so they were
going to carry the strait-waistcoat hack again.'
" ' They shall not do that, Jobn. I will speak to
them and immediately, that the life of a fellow-ereatere
may set be etterlfleed to the ignorant terrors which op-
pose as AO of humanity.'
• " He left tile room, followed by the knife. Amellefr
shuddered at the contemplation of the frightful eilanilty
which celled for the presence of her father, while she
honoured the benevolence which so promptly obeyed the
unceremonious invitation that he hail received.
" To walk in that garden, in which she had once been
accus'omed to enjoy the society df Harley, was the only
solace that her melancholy could know. Herr, revelling
in that grief which she could not--wonlii not subdue,
she frequently wandered, till forgetful of all around; her
mind became absorbed in religious contemplation; and,
soaring &Fore the evils of this trensitory state of being,
ei.:,oyed a freshing vision of the consolations reserved
for the unhappy, in ' another and is better world.'
" A splendid equipage caught her eye as she gained
the door of the apartment, and a moment after she heard
the motion of its wheels stop ; but this arrested nut her
steps. She had long since ceased to take any interest in
. the arrivals that were announced, and had constantly
withdrawn herself from the company that Sir George
mill occasionally entertained, wh it was not his
particular wish that she should remain Suck a request
he owe seldom made, as he saw cotupliance was painful,
and the Sea of indisposition might always be fairly
urged to muse her abisace.
.. Ili day was oar of these wilLeb aelbethaes girt
the clone of Ottuter the beightseeis of atesopt, without
the intensity of its hest. toiliia 1944 voile soften-
oj hat eosestaled mot the a ftwegielitis which the
pima a UM* bad *MS ha the dla stove, that

bo.inded the garden, (ruin whhh the gentle breeze
enuird a fen of the withering leaves every moment to
alesc4nal, tv id', reluctant to .ink from their exalted
44antinba141 x ftiNhe ground till after repeated efforts
to regailiabel *appal, tq eitjoy the brief rem-
nant .of the parting season. ' POlvaiilatibrawtb tbef.
now began rapluMM reenundate on the pleasinglyy` va-
riegated fore-ero.uad whieh the taste of Amelia bad
decked with the plants anal flowers which retain their
Lharnia till the near approach of winter, and which,
from their lofty neighbour. being half stripped of the
foliage which had adorned them, seemed to tiourish in
unwonted health, and to revel in the glory of the sus,
from which, in the warmer season, they had been alaiosti

wholly excluded.
" Hither Amelia directed her steps, in silent, solemn
meditation. From the distress of the poor cottager, her
thoughts involuntarily turned to her own, and the image
of the youth, so devotrillv loved, and so incessantly
mournid, failed not to he present to her mind. The
grief of Sir George, and the apparent decay of his con-
stitution, were among the objects that occupied her me-
ditations; and his sorrow acquired a deeper interest
with her, from the regret which hr manifested fur the
course he had pursued with respect to Charles.
" ' Alas!' she sadly sighed,' that the feelings which
generate remorse cannot come sufficiently early into ac-
tion to prevent error! How vain the reproaches and the
fears with which sty kind but erring. father loads him-
self, and sheets fur the fate of Charles ! Had the same
aente sensibility lived in his bosom when the child of his
bonnty knelt before him, how important, how blissful
might have been the result! He would not then hate
been animated to enterpriae by desperation ; nay, he
might have been prevailed upon to give ttp the dang'.r
ants profession to which he devoted himself. But vain
throe thoughts—these regrets cannot alter nature's laws
and compel the grave to give op its beloved inmate. he
still, my heart. The termination of thy sorrow ap-
proaches. Perhaps, err long, our emancipated spirits
may meet in the regions of eternal clay ; and, as in ma-
ture age we laugh at the recollected troubles of infancv.
so, in a more perfect state, we may smile at the little
temporary woes that depressed us when we were only
mortals.'

•• While her tongue unconsciously emboditd in words,
the thoughts that chased each other through her mind,
her eves were raised to Heaven, glistening with a tear,
for which anguish, piety, and love contended, and which
each had equwl right to claim. Suddenly she started, at
perceiving that she was not alone. A youth knelt at her
feet : he gently seized her band; she would have repel-
led the daring intender, but a shrilling sensation ran
through her whole frame, and alike deprived her of
speech and motion. lie who had caused this sudden
emotion was not less affected. He trembled, but was
silent. Amelia felt her hand pressed to his lips, and
covered with Iniriiinz kisses. Ile raised his head, and
a countenance beaming with intelligence, and glowing
with rapture. met her view—it was that of Harley !
" • Amelia!' lie at length exclaimed—and the throb of
boundless transport denied him the power of saving more
for some moments. Ile had heard the words which fell
I from her when she little suspected that any one was near,
but tenet of all himself. He saw before bum the fair ooe,
whose image he had so often endeavoured to recall in the
pathless wilds of Africa—among the abodes of savages,
and on the horning sands of the cheerless Saharra. He'.
'Saw her not. indeed, in ell the bloom of beauty, such
I when he hart first beheld her on his return from sea, at
Lord DaeliiiigioWs, hut still lovely, nay, to him inure
lovely than ever ; since the paleness which had invaded
her check, he could not doubt, was the offspring of sen-
sibility and love—of disinterested love for him. His
heart was too full to allow him the use of speech but
all powerful nature prompted him instinctively to satisfy
the doubting, and almost lifeless Amelia, of the reality
Ilbf hie reserce,-by' clasping the unresisting charmer tis
' his agitated bosom.
," Recollection began to succeed to emotion, and
Amelia gently disenicated herself. A diatious sensation•
of mingled apprehension and delight still pervaded her
nand, while her lease, at first incredulous,
.became gra-
' dually more assured, and, at length comparatively
tranquil.
" "fhet yon have not forgotten me, dearest Amelia,'
he at length said, • I have the bliss to know. But why
still @erns at a loss to recognise me ? Have absence and
misery (to me the worde are synonimou.). so changed
my featnres, that von can, for a moment, doubt the iden-
tity of your faithful, and, now I may add, your happy
Harley
"' l'is he r she softly sighed ; and again her thoughts
iwetned absorbed In devotion, as if mentally imploring
Heaven to grant strength to sustain the sudden trans-
port that she proved at a meeting so joyful, and which
a moment before she had held to he impossible.