vigorous, forcible biographer of Sir Walter Scott. The humourous parts of "Valerius" were flat, nor are those of this tale of modern life much more potent—though there is certainly some pungent satirical writing, and a plentiful seasoning of caustic wit. The characters are, with one or two exceptions, far from being loveable or even likeable people: the Catlines irritate, the Chisneys repel or fatigue, Macdonald thoroughly annoys, and even good old Keith bores us. But the elder Daltons are a refreshing relief—genial, natural, and heart-whole; the Vicar wins our affectionate reverence; young Macdonald is one of the better sort of "good-natured fellows" (a complimentary epithet of cruel kindness), and sweet Helen Hesketh sways our loyal souls whithersoever she listeth. Her part in the tale, with its pathetic associations, is wrought out with emphasis and discretion, and shows what the novelist can do when he will:
And Nature holds her sway as Lockhart tells
How dark the grief that with the guilty dwells;
How various passions through the bosom move,
Dalton's high hope, and Ellen's sinless love.
Creative fancy gives a lovelier green
To Godstowe's glade;[1] and hallows all the scene
Where Love's low whisper sooth'd their wildest fears,
Till Joy grew voiceless and flow'd forth in tears.[2]
The "dark grief" that tabernacles with "the guilty," and the "various passions" that agitate the bosom of frail humanity, were impressively delineated in the two Scotch novelets, "Adam Blair" and "Matthew Wald." The former is pitched in the same key with Wilson's painfully intense tale of "Simon Gray," and Mrs. Southey's "Andrew Cleaves." It is not improved in moral tone, however it may be heightened in melodramatic colouring, by the evident influence exercised on the author's mind by his familiarity with German fictions; to the morbid characteristics of which, he too nearly adapted his own story. We can imagine him at a later period inditing merciless strictures on similar trespasses, by some later romancer, in the way of overwrought emotion and pathological diagnosis—and visiting with peremptory rebuke the morale which drags down to ruin, in its blackness of darkness, a too soft-hearted and susceptible minister of the Gospel, by the iron chain of "fate and metaphysical aid," Calvinism and philosophy. In "Matthew Wald" there are some powerful bits of tragic, or rather perhaps of melodramatic
- ↑ See Reginald Dalton. Book iii. chap, v.
- ↑ The Novel: a Satire. (1830.)
"Why, really, Mr. Macdonald, I scarce think we have been very serious."
"'Sdeath, mem, what do you mean>"
"Sir?"
"Mem?"
"Mr. Macdonald?"
"Leddy Catline?"
"Sir?"
"Hoots, hoots—a joke's a joke."
"A joke?"
"Ay, a joke."—Reginald Dalton. Book vii. chap. v.
We are to this hour distrustful of Mr. Wakley's capacity for writing Wordsworthian lyrics by the mile, but we can imagine him doing this kind of composition by his crowner's metre of mileage.
