196 
The Man with two Lives. 2 vols. 
12mo. ; 1829.—This is at least no every 
day story. The hero is from his earliest 
sensations impressed with the reminiscences, 
at first vague, but gradually defining and fix- 
ing, of a previous state of existence. Scenes, 
names, persons, incidents recur, particular- 
ly of Frankfort-on-the-Maine—a place at 
which, at least as Edward Sydenham, he 
had never been—till proof upon proof esta- 
blish the conviction of some extraordinary 
destiny, and finally force him to the scene 
of his supposed former existence. The re- 
collections, which relate to his personal his- 
tory, are none of the most agreeable. Fre- 
derick Werner, whose representative, or 
successor, or continuator, he appeared to 
be, had abandoned a lovely wife, for the 
blandishments of a public singer, and ruined 
the peace of a relative by a groundless 
charge of adulterous intercourse with the 
wife he had deserted. Accompanied with 
these impressions of former offences, was 
the onus of atoning for the wrongs he had 
committed. The duty and object of the 
life of Edward Sydenham seemed to be to 
cancel the crimes of Frederick Werner. 
At first, all was attributed by his friends 
to illusion, or fancy, or fabrication ; but so 
correct, consistent, steady, and conscien- 
tious, was his general conduct in every re- 
lation of life—and, finally, the evidence he 
furnished of an antecedant acquaintance 
‘with places and persons, so conclusive, even 
to natives of Frankfort, that his parents, 
‘and especially a German friend, themselves 
shared the conviction, and furthered his 
views, and encouraged him to develope the 
mystery. 
To Frankfort he accordingly went, where 
he was immediately introduced to the house 
and family of a wealthy banker, consisting 
of two very lovely daughters, and was in- 
vited to take up his residence with them. 
Sydenham found himself at once at home— 
and literally so, for it had been Werner’s 
residence. In the dressing-room, he met 
with a very curious cabinet, which he in- 
stantly recognised to have been his own 3 
recollecting a compartment with a secret 
spring, he touched the spring, and the 
drawer flew open; but he hesitated to go 
further, for now he recollected also he had 
there deposited a mass of private papers ; 
and it now became a question of morals, 
whether he could honourably look at what 
he could not legally or personally claim, 
though by the evidence of his own con- 
science he knew them to be his own. 
Luckily, his perplexity was remoyed by the 
banker’s accidentally making the discovery 
himself; and the papers were put into his 
own hands as a matter of curiosity. They 
consisted chiefly of reflections expressive of 
remorse for the writer’s treatment of his wife 
and relative. 
Circumstances soon shape themselves to 
enable him to proceed in the work of atone- 
ment. In the church, which he had visited 
Monihly Review of Literature, 
_ [Fes. 
on his first arrival, he had seen his own 
tomb, and at the tomb a lady deeply veiled, 
kneeling. To this lady, an intimate friend 
of the banker's family, he is quickly intro- 
duced ; she is forcibly struck by his appear- 
ance and by the tones of hisvoice ; confidences 
follow; he reads to her Werner’s papers, 
and in the name of Werner throws himself 
at her feet, and implores forgiveness. At 
all this no amazement is expressed—Ger- 
mans are too much familiarized with the 
wonderful for this. The syren that had 
enchanted is still living—little shorn of her 
charms, and not at all of her musical powers, 
though no longer exhibiting them on the 
stage. She resides some few miles from 
Frankfort, and Sydenham finds her no 
longer a coquette, but a staid philosopher ; 
and his first introduction was at one of her 
converzationes, where she figures among the 
learned, like another Lady D. With this 
lady, however, nothing in the shape of 
eclaircissement takes place—he had done 
no wrongs which demanded reparation ; but 
she is finally induced to repeat the part of 
Medea, in the manner in which she had 
done two or three and twenty years before, 
in the presenee of Werner’s wife, when in 
the height of her influence over the hus- ~ 
band, she had, by sheer strength of talent, 
forced even that lady’s admiration. At this 
repetition scene, Werner’s widow, though 
unknown to Sydenham, is herself present ; 
the singer suddenly recognises her, and, 
glancing at Sydenham, seems intuitively to 
take in the whole singular realities; but 
nothing farther passes, except a request to 
be allowed to sing at Sydenham’s mar- 
riage. 
A visit is now in like manner made to 
the injured relative, who mysteriously grants 
his forgiveness; and on this final retribu- 
tive event, Sydenham feels the guilt of 
Werner no longer a burden upon his own 
conscience. He has acknowledged the virtue 
of his wife, and the innocence of his friend 
—has confessed his offences, and been for- 
given by both. Henceforth he lives singly 
for Edward Sydenham. He enters upon a 
new and independent course. Werner is 
nothing more to him, and is forgotten. 
Romantic, absurd, and, in sober earnest, 
fit only as it is for boys and girls to maun- 
der over, the tone of earnestness and so- 
lemnity which everywhere pervades it is 
very striking, even interesting. The writer 
must have German blood in his yeins. 
Trials of Life, by the Author of De 
Lisle, 3 vols.; 1828.—The volumes con- 
tain two distinct tales, both coming under 
the general title of Trials of Life—both 
gloomy, distressing, and eyen oppressive ; 
but not by any means of equal interest, nor 
equally calculated to arrest general attention. 
The first is by far too fine and fastidious for 
common use; the last, painful as it is, and 
revolting, has more of ordinary life in it— 
has, indeed, an air of harrowing reality 
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