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BELLES LETTRES.

THE SAND HILLS OF JUTLAND*_This is the title of a new volume of stories by that prince of modern story tellers, Hans ANDERSEN. We found them capital reading in the warm days of summer, and, we doubt not, others will find them equally good in the long evenings of winter that are so soon to come. Seated on the rocks, with the cool sea-breezes blowing full upon us, we yielded ourselves to their fascination, and cared not to ask whether these new stories were better or poorer than those which gained a world-wide reputation for their author. It was enough that they bore unmistakable evidence of the source from which they came. Of course they are extravagant as any tale of the Arabian Nights. Of course they are simple as a nursery rhyme. But they bear the marks of the inspiration of genius, though they set at defiance every rule of criticism. Then the spirit they breathe is so tender, so gentle, so kind, at times so joyous ; they manifest such a sympathy for the poor, for the down-trodden and all who are in distress; the lessons they teach, without being too obtrusive, are so pure, and so elevated, that we cannot but wish them the widest circulation throughout the whole land.

The Mill On The Floss.t-Since the publication of "Jane Eyre,” whose advent chronicles a new era in novel writing in the present cen. tury, no modern romances which have issued from the English press bave excited inore interest than those of the author of " Scenes of Clerical Life,” and “ Adam Bede.” The latter, particularly, in its dramatic delineation of character, as shown in its illustrative sketches of homely English life, its breadth and richness of painting, its mingled strokes of humor and pathos, its outspoken freedom and truth to nature, and superadded to these, and which is no inconsiderable charm, the garb of Yorkshire dialect, which marks the language of its interlocutors, giving an air of quaintness to the whole, has been received with a degree of popularity seldom equaled in this novel reading age. We repeat what is no secret, when we say that George Eliot is only the nom de plume for Miss Evans-a lady who lias been well known for her.successful efforts in other departments of literature. As has been justly remarked, an author's second appearance before the public is even more trying than the first. Previous to this he is unknown, and due allowance is made for the fact in case of failure, as being his first effort, or, should success crown the enterprise, he may, perhaps, be overpraised; with the second, (in the work before us, it is the writer's third literary venture in the particular line chosen,) the case is different, and he is judged by the standard which he bimself has set up, por must he complain that the ordeal to which he is subjected by a capricious publie, is a pretty severe one as a decisive test of his powers. Is the present volume an instance of this kind ? Does it mark an advance or retrograde movement in the “scope and rigor of mind” of the author ! A brief analysis of the book itself will help to answer this question.

* The Sand Hills of Jutland. By Hans CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN. Boston: Ticknor & Fields. 1860. 12mo. pp. 267. 75 cts. [T. H. Pease, New Haven

+ The Mill on the Floss. By George Eliot, Author of “Scenes of Clerical Life," and “ Adam Bede." New York: Harper & Brothers. 1860. pp. 464. $1, [T. H. Pease, New Haven.]

“The Mill on the Floss," as its title indicates, is a tale of industrial life, and derives its main interest from the fortunes of two characters, who are introduced as brother and sister-Tom and Maggie Tulliverchildren of the mill-owner-Mr. Tulliver, as also those of three other individuals who appear in a later period of the story, to whom we shall presently allude. We remark by way of explanation to our matter of fact readers, that the scene of the romance is laid in the town of St. Oggs, while Floss is the river on which the Dorlcote Mill is situated. The second chapter is taken up with the subject of Tom's education, which is the chief object of bis aspiring father, occasioning a spicy conversation between himself and Mrs. Tulliver, the detailed execution of the plan being carried out in his being sent to the Rev. Walter Stelling, who undertakes to “put his pupil through” an approved course of Latin and Greek roots, reminding us of Dr. Blimbo's forcing system in “ Dombey & Son." While the matter is under deliberation, the reader is treated to an episode in the convening of a family party, to whom, among other matters, the topic is for the first time broached, which creates no little surprise and begets a protracted discussion on the important event in the family history. Tom and Maggie (in our minds they are inseparable) appear before us, the former as the type of the healthy young English animal, with no very decided features, “light brown hair, full lips, indeterminate nose and eyebrows, a physiog. nomy in which it is impossible to discern anything but the generic character of boyhood," with a dash of the mastiff in his composition, full of fun and sportiveness, more inclined to “percussion caps" than to Virgil or Euclid, delighting to tease his sister to whom he is yet devoted with true brotherly affection, and the pet of his mother ; Maggie is a stout, buxom little miss, with “ dark eyes and black hair," and a face striking the beholder as possessed of uncommon beauty, her father's especial favorite, or, as he was accustomed to call her, "little wench," and the prettiest “gell" in the neighborhood of St. Oggs. To return to the family party to which we have referred, which breaks up as such family parties generally do, owing to the intractable spirit of two of its members, relating to some moneyed transactions between them-Aunt Glegg and Mr. Tulliver, in a pretty family quarrel, rather ominous in its bearing on the future destiny of Tom and Maggie. We have room but for a single extract from this part of the work, in which the reader will find some exquisite character painting, and which we present as a specimen of the whole. It is taken from the chapter entitled “Mr. and Mrs. Glegg at home," and occurs farther on in the story. Aunt Glegg is Mrs. Tulliver's sister.

“People who seem to enjoy their ill-temper, have a way of keeping it in fine condition by inflicting privations on themselves. That was Mrs. Glegg's way; she made her tea weaker than usual this morning and declined butter. It was a hard case that a vigorous mood for quarreling, so highly capable of using any opportunity, should not meet with a single remark from Mr. Glegg, on which to exercise itself. But by and by it appeared that his silence would answer the purpose, for he heard himself apostrophized at last in that tone peculiar to the wife of one's bosom.

""Well, Mr. Glegg! it is a poor return I get for making you the wife I've made you all these years. If this is the way I'm to be treated, I'd better ha' known it before my poor father died, and then, when I'd wanted a home, I should ha' gone elsewhere—as the choice was offered to me.'

“Mr. Glegg paused from his porridge and looked up-not with any new amazement, but simply with that quiet, habitual wonder with which we regard constant mysteries. Why, Mrs. G., what have I done now?' Mr. Glegg ? done now?

I'm sorry for you.' "Not seeing his way to any pertinent answer, Mr. Glegg reverted to his porridge.

“There's husband's in the world,' continued Mrs. Glegg, after a pause, as 'ud have known how to do something different to siding with everybody else against their own wives. Perhaps I'm wrong and you can teach me better—but I've allays heard as it's the husband's place to stand by the wife, instead o' rejoicing and triumphing when folks insult her.'

“. Now what call have you to say that ?' said Mr. Glegg, rather warmly, for, though a kind man, he was not as meek as Moses. · When did I rejoice or triumph over you?'

««• There's ways o' doing things worse than speaking out plain, Mr. Glegg. I'd sooner you'd tell me to my face as you make light of me, than try to make out as everybody's in the right but me, and come to your breakfast in the morning, as

"Done now,

I've hardly slept an hour this night, and sulk at me as if I was the dirt under your feet'

"Sulk at you!' said Mr. Glegg, in a tone of angry facetiousness. You're like a tipsy man as thinks everybody's had too much but himself.'

“. Don't lower yourself with using coarse language to me, Mr. Glegg! It makes you look very small, though you can't see yourself,' said Mrs. Glegg, in a tone of energetic compassion. A man in your place should set an example, and talk more sensible.'

"“Yes; but will you listen to sense ?' retorted Mr. Glegg, sharply. “The best sense I can talk to you is what I said last night-as you're i' the wrong to think o' calling in your money, when it's safe enough if you'd let it alone, all because of a bit of a tiff, and I was in hopes you'd ha' altered your mind this morning. But if you'd like to call it in, don't do it in a hurry now, and breed more enmity in the family, but wait till there's a pretty mortgage to be had without any trouble. You'd have to set the lawyer to work now to find an investment, and make no end o’expense.'

“You'd better leave finding fault wi' my kin till you've left off quarreling with your own, Mrs. G.,' said Mr. Glegg, with angry sarcasm. "I'll trouble you for the milk.jug.'

“'That's as false a word as ever you spoke, Mr. Glegg,' said the lady, pouring out the milk with unusual profuseness, as much as to say, if he wanted milk, he should have it with a vengeance. And you know it's false, I'm not the woman to quarrel with my own kin ; you may, for I've known you do it.'

“Here Mrs. Glegg's voice intimated that she was about to cry, and breaking off from speech, she rang the bell violently.

“Sally,' she said, rising from her chair, and speaking in rather a choked voice, light a fire up stairs, and put the blinds down. Mr. Glegg, you'll please to order what you'd like for dinner. I shall have gruel.'

“Mrs Glegg walked across the room to the book-case, and took down Baxter's Saints' Everlasting Rest,' which she carried with her up stairs. It was the book she was accustomed to lay open before her on special occasions-on wet Sunday mornings, or when she heard of a death in the family, or when, as in this case, her quarrel with Mr. Glegg had been set an octave higher than usual."pp. 111-114.

Tom is still at school, having made tolerable proficiency in his education, when an event occurs which changes entirely his present and future prospects. This is the failure of his father in business and the passing of the mill into other hands, owing to the unhappy result of a law-suit in which he has become involved, where his old antagonist, lawyer Wakem, comes off victorious. The latter has a son Pbilip, who is a school fellow with Tom in the same institution, and who had the misfortune to be a deformed youth, though of superior refinement, to whom on that as well as other accounts, chiefly the feud of long standing between the parents of the two boys, Tom had from the first conceived a thorough dislike. Maggie, on the other hand, who had left her own boarding school to visit Tom in his new quarters, did not share this feeling, but looked upon the deformed boy, perhaps, for that very reason, (who can account for a woman's tastes ?) with pity akin to love; indeed, some love-passages had already occurred between them, the knowledge of which fact, contrary to their express commands, had made a breach between herself and her father, and her brother Tom, which threatened to become permanent.

Passing over this part—which the reader will consider to be unnecessarily prolix and devoid of striking incident, we do not forget the chapters describing the Downfall at Home, and Mrs. Tulliver's pathetic wail at the necessity of parting with her household gods; also, the graphic description of poor Mr. Tulliver's illness and his broken exclamations of heartfelt anguish when the real state of his affairs is made known to him—we come to the main idea of the story. “ This is the contest between the inclination of love and the stern sense of duty." Maggie bas a cousin-sweet Lucy Deane, whose avowed lover is an acquaintance of the family-Stephen Guest. In the wretched state of things at home, she is invited on a visit to her cousin, when she sees for the first time her cousin's lover, who, immediately struck by her uncommon beauty and loveliness, falls in love with her at first sight. Maggie, who is already bound to Philip Wakem, in stolen interviews had with him on various occasions, since the downfall of the family fortunes, at first shrinks from this new acquaintance; at last, however, she falls into the snare set for her, for Stephen has great powers of fascination, which, like the poor bird in the gaze of the serpent, she in vain attempts to resist. Soon she finds herself in a situation drifting farther from the right, contrary to her most intense convictions of duty, face to face with the great temptation, till now, she is in serions danger of being compromised, as being in her own view, as in that of others, guilty of a double treachery boih to Philip and Lucy. The contest is long and severe. At length her better conscience prevails and she turns to the old love, succeeding by a powerful effort, almost in a fit of desperation to free herself from the tempter. That as the result of this internal struggle her health and spirits should have given way, is only what might have been foreseen. Meanwhile, Tom, by bis indefatigable efforts and unwearied devotion to business, succeeds in raising the fallen fortunes of the family, coming in possession once more of the old mill, which, however, is of little advantage to Maggie, who remains still

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