| | | | Six years is a long time to keep alive in the mind the | memory of a novel, unless it be a work of unmistakeable | genius. Mrs. Margaret Maitland evidently considers her | Autobiography to have been one of this class, or she | would scarcely have ventured to give us in | Lilliesleaf, a tale which it would not | be possible to understand without a perfect recollection | of her former work. We do not happen, however, to be | aware that it was so deeply interesting as to have left a | very vivid and abiding impression upon those who read | it, or that it created such a furore | about the lady as to make the world exceedingly | desirous to have a further account of her sayings, doings, | and belongings. Speaking for ourselves, we can say that, | when we had recourse to the circulating library for the | purpose of refreshing our memory, the first recollection | which her pages brought back was that of the tedium and | drowsiness which the garrulous old lady had inflicted | upon us, and which, we regret to say, | Lilliesleaf has made us suffer in even a greater | degree. | All the world, at least that small portion of it which may | have been inveigled into reading Mrs. Maitland's | autobiography, are aware that she professes to be a | Scotchwoman. But anything more unlike a genuine | Scotch nature than that which she unfolds to us it would | not be easy to conceive; while such Scotch expressions | as she makes use of would drive the shade of Burns to | despair, and curl Walter Scott's lip with a sneer of | contempt. Compare but a single page of her writing with | one of Galt's; how racy, genuine, and idiomatic is his | language ~~ how forced and tame is hers. What a foreign | kind of twang there is about it. A few quaint and obsolete | Scotticisms, many slips in grammar, mixed up with | language that savours strongly of the | Mary Powell school, form the ingredients of a dish | which she presents to us as a veritable Scotch haggis ~~ | a thing it no more resembles than it does an English plum | pudding. | ~~ these specimens, taken at random, will serve to show | what her idea of the Scotch idiom is, and how entirely | she is at fault in supposing that such expressions bear | any likeness to it.

"Truly"

is a word in which she | must also imagine great virtue consists, wince she uses it, | on a moderate computation, five hundred times in the course | of her story. | As for narrative, it is but a continuation of the history | contained in the earlier volumes. The | dramatis personae consists of two model wives, | one model husband, one model Scotch | | pastor and his wife, two normal nurseries of model | children, one model Scotch servant, and one model old | lady, that is, Mrs. Maitland | herself. By way of mint-sauce to | all this lamb, we have one disagreeable one woman, one | Jane Eyre style of young lady with a gentleman to match, | and one thoughtless husband given to a liking for | society. The manner in which this gentleman's | reformation is effected, and his extravagant tastes | corrected, is, to say the least of it, very curious. His wife, | to whom he owes his conversion, will not at first | countenance him in his pursuits, but stays at home with | her children while he is enjoying himself abroad. All at | once she changes her tactics, pretends that she has | suddenly acquired a taste for fashionable society, | accompanies her husband to town, and plunges into all | the dissipation of a London season. When she has nearly | brought him and herself to the brink of ruin, and | horrified him with the prospect, she reveals to him, in the | most approved melodramatic style, what has been her | motive through it all ~~ namely, | the opening of his eyes. She | tells him that | she concludes; | Whereon follow repentance of the | husband, laudation of the wife, and a Paradisiacal life for | both ever after. But we would not counsel any of our | lady friends, in like circumstances, to follow Mrs. | Elphinston's example. It is just possible that the result | may not be exactly the same in all cases. | The flighty young lady and gentleman to whom we have | already alluded are of course intended to be highly | original conceptions; and if by originality be meant | something totally unlike what we may expect to meet | with in real life, Mrs. Maitland has succeeded to | admiration. Miss Rhoda Maitland's idiosyncrasy consists | in a perpetual fancy for killing herself and for hating | other people. | she exclaims. | Really! | how amiable and considerate! | she | inquiries of her pendant, Mr. Bernard. Rather a curious | question for a young lady to put to a gentleman on his | first introduction to her. However, he seems to have | something of the same sanguinary propensity as herself | ~~ only that in his case, it is directed against others, | for he informs Rhoda, | that | | | Original sentiments these, to be entertained by a young | lady arrived at what are generally considered years of | discretion. But ladies of Miss Rhoda's class are quite | beyond our comprehension, especially when they rise to | such flights as the following: ~~ | | She rather contradicts herself, however, in another | passage, where we find her saying, ~~ | | Surely this is a very peculiar description of lady for a | gentleman to fall in love with; yet Mr. Bernard, | and | possessed of a | does fall in love; and the love-making | between the two is as original and true to the nature as | the rest of their characters. | We do not mean to say that the whole of these three | volumes is made up of materials like these; there are | better passages here and there, but they are generally so | mingled with rubbish that it is not easy to give a | specimen entirely free from dross. We have, however, | done our best; how far we have been successful, we | leave it to our readers to determine: ~~ | | We would gladly stay our hand here, and through this | passage leave an agreeable impression on the minds of | our readers. But we feel that it is our duty, before we | conclude, to enter our protest against books like these. | We may be told that they are harmless. Our answer is | that nothing which is false can be innocent ~~ that any | books which represent to us unreal and impossible views | of life must be prejudicial ~~ and that everything which | fosters sentimentality or a desire to imitate eccentric | originalities like Miss Rhoda, is so far as they can be | imitated, must of necessity be hurtful, especially to | young people, so much of whose daily food, alas! | consists of works of fiction. If authors and critics were | somewhat more heedful of their responsibilities, the | shelves of circulating libraries would cease to be loaded | with books, so many of which, whilst apparently | innocent in tendency, are really full of spurious religion | and false morality.