hopeless bondage--her only preservation a horrible dissembling: each thought was an agony to him, and an agony of which there was neither suspension nor relief. But there was still another pang-a worse agony than all he thought of his wife, the young, devoted Marie, now torn from him for ever he thought of her as the miserable, pining, broken-hearted widow-Oh! where was she? what, her anguish? what, her frantic woe? Did he, indeed, hear her distracted cries? He started wildly up, clenched his trembling hand, and dashed it to his brow in fevered madness, as the horrible imagination haunted him, and he beheld her beauteous loveliness the victim of incestuous violence, and heard her call out for mercy, madly demand her husband's protection, and implore deliverance at his handswhom a merciless dungeon had torn from her for ever.

6

He

Excitement, however, such as of that moment, could not last; human suffering, indeed, could not have long endured a torture so horribly exciting; but although that phantomed agony passed away, still did his real wretchedness continue, and appal his soul with as many miseries. sought for some brighter, some more cheering thoughts, to distract that denser gloom. Alas! it was in vain that he looked for the sun's reviving rays, on whom an eternal darkness hung thick and impervious-there was not one, even delusive hope—not one, even impossible promise-he threw himself on his restless couch, and, yielding himself to his fate, lay lost in a thousand images of woe.

'He knew not how long he had been thus unconscious to all save his mind's own creations, or whether the visions of sleep had not indeed succeeded to the waking dreams on which he had so long dwelt, that their distinctness no longer remained, when he was suddenly aroused from his abstraction by a firm, muscular grasp on his arm.

Forgetful at the moment of his real condition, he was, on the first impulse, starting up to repel the believed violence, when at once the sense of his unarmed captivity rushed to his mind; and he fell back powerless and inert, nor struggled against the murderer's blow, which already seemed to pierce his bleeding heart.

But a sudden change passed, as a lightning's flash, through his mind, and changed its midnight darkness to a wild, bewildering light-kind and gentle accents met his astonished ear, as, in a cautious whisper, he heard himself addressed by name, and exhorted to be comforted. He looked eagerly round, and with a wild, impassioned cry, sprung into the faithful arms that were ready to receive him-that one glance, brief as it was, as indistinctly as from the feeble glimmering of his taper it reached him, had already shown that the true, kind-hearted De Bourgh, the firm, devoted friend of his family-his more than father, hung over him.-Arthur of Britanny, vol. iii. pp. 178-186.

We need not repeat the result. Arthur is saved for the moment, but only to undergo a more unnatural death from the hand of his uncle a crime of which even the callous heart of John subsequently repented, though not until after it brought upon him the hatred and contempt of his vassals, and the vengeance of Heaven. The interest of the story is throughout well sustained. The style is now and then a little bombastic, but, generally speaking, it is clear and fluent, and, upon the whole, we do not remember to have lately VOL. II. (1831.) No. III.

2 F

read a work of fiction which so completely absorbed our attention, as Arthur of Britanny.'

3. Pin Money' is a tale of our own times, a fashionable novel, in which the authoress has made an attempt to transfer the familiar narrative of Miss Austin to a higher sphere of society.' The introduction of that favourite name is, to say the least of it, dangerous; comparisons, however invidious they may, cannot fail to be drawn between the works of that distinguished writer, and this of her avowed imitator, and the conclusion, we fear, will be anything but favourable to the copy. In truth we know of no class of novels in our language more difficult to be imitated than those of Miss Austin. There is no marked and prominent feature about them, which would facilitate the execution of a likeness. She is in the situation of those persons, whom the portrait painter never wishes to meet-whose countenances can only be fixed upon the canvass by catching their expression. The features may be taken with the greatest exactness, the outlines of the forehead, the arch of the eyebrows, the colour of the eyes, the form of the cheeks, set down with the utmost accuracy; and yet, when the painting is finished, it shall do as well for any body else as for the person for whom it was intended, simply because it wants that peculiar expression which at once reminds us of the original. It is just so with Miss Austin. The vein of good sense, the quiet beauty, the felicitous course of thought, which gleam throughout her works, are hardly to be detected in a shape sufficiently tangible, to render them the objects of imitation. If her name had not been mentioned by the author of Pin Money,' nobody would ever have thought that any imitation had been intended. Certainly nothing can be more unlike, than the original and the copy.

The story reminds us rather of the play of "The Provoked Husband," from which the characters of Sir Brooke and Lady Rawleigh are evidently drawn. Witness the following gambling scene.

'Now Lady Rawleigh's experience of cards and card-players was comprised in the sober drowsy game of long whist, peculiar to her mother's moderate circle of dowagers; and the arcadian academy of tredillers, quadrillers, and cassinists, into which she had been inaugurated, on occasion of one or two formal visits to Sophronia of Twickenham. She had never seen the vexation of a loser extend beyond a peevish sigh, or asthmatic grunt; she had never seen the triumph of a winner expand beyond the buckram simper of General Lorriston on dropping two halfcrowns into his spangled card-purse; or the tripsome sprightliness of Lady Lavinia Lisle's parting curtsey, after adding a new sovereign to her collection of coins of the realm. She was, in short, wholly and totally ignorant of the satanic excitement of gaming, in all its branches! therefore, was her amazement on reaching the cluster round the écarté table, where a vista was immediately opened for her by the male idlers forming the background of the group, to perceive the lovely Lady Barbara Dynley seated in all the suspense of "Je propose," and her antagonist, Count Rodenfels, throwing a glance of scrutiny at once over his own indifferent

What,

nand, and her agonized countenance; while Lady Rochester with her artificial bloom heightened by a fever of agitation, such as would have driven her to distraction, could a mirror have been placed before her, sat watching the result in speechless anxiety. Every female visage interested in the event, however young, however beautiful, was sharpened into a degree of ungracious asperity; while on some of the ancient visages of the dowagers and sexagenarian spinsters, characters of cupidity and ferocity were engraven, as if by the talons of some demoniacal agent!

"The men who owned a stake in the golden piles and bank-notes heaped upon the table, more accustomed to subdue the evidence of evil passions, and more alive to the mauvais ton of evincing any eagerness in the pursuit, affected to whisper to each other, with a tone of gaiety almost hysterical; while parched lips, bloodshot eyes, and a distempered spot upon the cheek, sufficed to betray their inward perturbation. There was not one among the party whose demeanour was natural, or whose voice was pitched in its ordinary key; and no sooner was the game over, and the spoils in process of division and sub-division, than Frederica found herself absolutely blushing at the disputations and shabby vehemence of her own sex, and the angry looks darted from the eyes of the losing cavaliers. As she noticed the smile of gloating exultation with which Lady Barbara swept. her allotted handful of sovereigns into her reticule, all the grace of action, and all the charm of countenance, she had formerly admired in Mr. Dynley's wife seemed to subside from her imagination; and while the arrangements for the ensuing game were formed with the same contentious and ill-bred selfishness, Lady Rawleigh found a moment to express to the triumphant Lady Barbara her regret at being so largely indebted to her assistance.

""You owe me nothing!" cried the exhilarated winner. "As you and Lord Calder chose to be ex-parte abettors of our écarté-table, we have made you play in opposition, so that you can settle your account with him at the end of the evening. Mr. Vaux has been looking for you both; and as you have won on the two last games, I recommend you not to desert your luck. Play on, and you will bring yourself round in an hour."

Through ignorance or indifference, Lady Rawleigh accepted these counsels; and being soon wearied by the heated atmosphere round the table, and disgusted by the tone of avidity displayed by her female friends, she again retired beyond the limits of the circle, and seating herself in an open window became once more engrossed in conversation with Calder and Lord Vardington.

"I am happy to perceive," said the latter, in a low voice, as she threw herself into a vacant chair," that although Lady Rawleigh pledges her purse to the écarté table, she cannot fix her interest upon its chances."

"I am playing merely to oblige Lady Olivia," she replied, surprised by his unwonted gravity of tone; "and for the first, and probably the last

time."

"You venture on a high stake for a beginner," said her new acquaintance in the same admonitory voice, which caused certain half-uttered imprecations to interpose between the clenched teeth of Lord Calder. I suffer it to be fixed by others," replied Frederica, drily; " and it is fortunate for me that they have not speculated more deeply on my behalf."

Lord Calder, apprehensive that the pertinacity of this intrusive counsellor might eventually discourage Frederica from entering further into his toils, now judged it necessary to divert the channel of their conversation to some more auspicious theme; and such was his dexterity in the art of familiar eloquence, that he succeeded without much difficulty in arresting the attention of both, by engaging them in one of those gay and graceful arguments in which the nothingness of society may be enveloped by an original thinker and fearless talker. He advanced paradoxes to give them an opportunity of being refuted by the rational Vardington; he professed subtleties of sentiment to delude Frederica into the absorbing task of investigation; and by the time they had refined upon a few of these artificial theories, and confuted a few of his lordship's plausible casuistries, the crowd at the card-table broke into a degree of vociferation announcing that its mysteries and anxieties were over; while Mr. Vaux, approaching the window with his usual air of urbane egotism, observed to Lady Rawleigh that he thought the severity of fortune on the present occasion would afford her little temptation to become an écarté-player. "You have been in your usual luck, my dear Calder," he continued, "and Lady Rawleigh writes herself your debtor to the amount of two hundred and seventy pounds."

'Notwithstanding the distemperature of heart and mind which had imparted to the whole evening a sort of visonary unreality, Frederica was startled into sobriety by this terrible sentence. She felt herself growing dizzy with the shock; and after a slight apology to Lord Calder for remitting the payment of her debt till her return to town, hurried away to seek confirmation of the intelligence from Lady Barbara, and to escape the scrutiny of Lord Vardington.

But scarcely had she attained the Gothic door of the misapplied sanctuary, when Lady Olivia seized her precipitately by the arm, and dragged her away to preside at a supper-table where the Rodenfels and a large party of the elect of fashion were already assembled; where the broadest bonmots were in process of circulation with the champagne; and where Lady Rochester's wit, exalted into its boldest key, was already eliciting the buoyant gaiety of her accustomed set. Among such persons it may be readily supposed that the discomfiture of Lady Rawleigh was as much unnoticed as her real attractions were unfelt; yet scarcely had she been conducted to her seat by Sir Robert Morse, when she found herself assailed on every side by an excess of compliments and graciousness redoubling all former tokens of politeness. She was little aware of the true source of her increased popularity! She was little aware that Lady Rochester, having discovered her to be capable of losing rouleau after rouleau without so much as enquiring the name of the dealer, or the nature of the opposition, began to regard her with unequivocal respect; and would have forgiven her triumph had Titania delegated some attendant fay to steal a complexion for Lady Rawleigh from the bud of a damask rose! Countess Rodenfels gave her a general invitation to her diplomatic soirées ;-Lord Wallingford begged permission to leave his name in Bruton-street; -Lady Blanche exultingly reminded her that Sir Capel Thornton's seat was not more than thirty miles distant from Rawleighford,-quite within visiting distance; and the old Duchess of Ledbury inquired with a remarkable show of courtesy after poor dear Lady Launceston's pulmonary afflictions. 'Yet not even these flattering testimonials to her recent accession of

merit, could withdraw the remembrance of Frederica from her own mischances. Having remained totally indifferent to their progress, and untouched by the hazards of the écarté-table, she could not of course feel convicted of the humiliating vice of play in its most flagrant sense; but when, on glancing wildly round the supper-room, she perceived Lord Calder standing amid a group of fashionable roués, and recollected that she was his debtor-that she owed him a sum which she should find it difficult to collect at a moment's warning-her heart sank beneath the gaze of familiar admiration, which she detected him in the act of setting upon herself! A sort of incomprehensible murmur seemed deepening round her; her heart was sickened almost beyond the power of controlling her vexation of spirit; and it was fortunate indeed for poor Frederica, that the Ash Bank guests did not forget its twelve miles distance from London, and were at length disposed to take their departure. She saw the last loiterer depart; she heard the boyish tumult of Lord Putney and the Duke of Draxfield, sportively disputing the possession of the only cloak left in the vestibule; and without noticing the thanks now poured upon her by Lady Olivia for her successful exertions in favour of the fête, or listening to the recapitulations of Monsieur Méringue's blunders and deficiencies, she hastened to her own room,-hurried through the garrulous attendance of Mrs. Pasley-and found refuge for her tears upon her solitary pillow !'---Pin Money, vol. ii. pp. 204-214.

The course of life which Lady Rawleigh pursues, necessarily involves her in pecuniary difficulties, which at length bring her to her senses, and she is made to acknowledge, that almost the worst thing that can befal a young wife, is to have too large an allowance of pin-money settled upon her. An episode of rather too artificial a character runs throughout the story. Mary Trevelyan had resided for some years in Italy, where her cousin, Lady Rawleigh, and many of her relatives and friends still supposed her to be. But she had been for some time in England under the assumed name of Miss Elbany, for the purpose of observing in person the character of a young gentleman to whom she was destined to be married. She is a manifold instrument in the hands of the authoress, who makes use of her in order to create mysteries, excite jealousies, and to throw circumstances into that kind of perplexity most convenient for a novelist, who, knowing in what the confusion originates, continues it as long as is necessary, and then comes out with a satisfactory explanation, at the winding up of the tale.

In

4. Each of the three volumes of 'Haverhill' may be said to be a story in itself; for they are divided by the author into three parts, which are connected together only by the dramatis persona. the first part we have a picture of American manners and customs, as they are exhibited amongst the lower orders of that country; in the second, we have, amongst other things sufficiently various in their nature, an account of the expedition in which General Wolfe was engaged for the reduction of Quebec; and in the third, we are introduced to the interior of life in the West Indies, including par