1829.) 
( 305) 
MONTHLY REVIEW OF LITERATURE, DOMESTIC AND FOREIGN, 
Tales of Passion, 3 vols. 12mo. by the 
Author of Gilbert Earle, 1829.—Gilbert 
Earle established for the author of these tales 
a reputation much too solid and exciting not 
to ensure a readiness in his readers to see 
whatever he produces. The volumes before 
us comprise three tales, one common cha- 
racteristic of which the general title suf- 
ficiently indicates. Here are no milk and 
water dealings. To sketch the point and 
purpose of each is scarcely compatible with 
our limited space; and, indeed, we know 
nothing within the whole circle of onr re- 
viewing labours so untractable as bundles of 
tales. To do justice to either reader or 
writer is impracticable—general words are 
incompetent, and almost always inapplicable ; 
and as to a dry succession of skeletons, what 
can be more repulsive? Of the present 
series we have read but two. The first is of 
a lady—the daughter of a noble baron, who 
falls in love with—her confessor, who is, of 
course, the very beauty of holiness. The 
scene is laid in Henry VIII’s reign, at the 
time when he and his grasping courtiers 
were looking to the spoils of the monasteries. 
The lady is young, innocent, inexperienced 
—she listens to the preacher—he is in the 
prime of manhood—a man of energy and 
talents ; and she drinks in love at both ears 
without knowing any thing of the nature or 
qualities of the draught. The discovery 
soon comes—the father proposes sudden 
marriage with a courtier and favourite of 
Wolsey—which rends away the veil, and 
tells her the true state of her feelings. Re- 
sisting her father’s importunities, she is 
turned oyer to the monk, who is com- 
manded to dive into the mystety. The 
very first interview breaks up the secret— 
she prostrates herself in agony at his feet 
—the word love escapes; and the holy 
father, though not yielding an atom of his 
stern and stoic propriety, finds it safest for 
himself to cut the temptation, and fly to the 
continent. The lady pines the meanwhile 
at home ; and true as the needle to the pole, 
(which, by the way, it has not been these 
150 years) she can think of nothing but 
the monk ; but she is pure as the icicle on 
Dian’s temple. The coming ruin of the 
monastery, after three or four years, brings 
back the holy father to the neighbourhood, 
and the lady Alice is not long before sheseeks 
an interview —from which, aftershewing some 
slight touch of humanity, he again tears 
himself away. Actively engaged in stirring 
up the adherents of the Catholic faith, he is 
now speedily involved in political difficulties, 
is secured, condemned, and brought to the 
stake. Alice pierces the gates of the prison, 
and offers him escape ; but he is inflexible— 
he goes to the stake—and she throws herself 
upon the burning pile, &c. 
_ The reader will find some very superior 
M.M. New Series.—Vou..VIUI. No. 39. 
developement of feeling, and excellent 
writing ; but the parties are prudent—they 
scarcely offend—and the interest is, upon 
the whole, but feeble. But this tale is fol- 
lowed by one called the Bohemian, which is 
indeed a tale of passion—where love curdles 
into hatred, with an enduring thirst of ven- 
geance—cherishing a plan of revenge, 
which requires some eighteen or twenty years 
to ripen. The Bohemian is a gipsy girl, a 
dancing and singing itinerant. At Leipzig 
Fair she is observed by Count Oberfeldt, a 
gentleman of family and fortune, who had 
spent some six or seven years diplomati- 
cally at Paris, equally distinguished for gal- 
lantry and cultivation, in the best days of 
Louis XIV’s court. Out of employment, 
he had returned to his castle ; and to relieve 
the tedium of loneliness—for he had no 
relish for the society of German boors—he 
resolved to go to Leipzig Fair, in the vague 
expectation that some adventure might turn 
up. The gipsy dances and sings to admi- 
ration ; she is very young—sixteen—beauti- 
ful as a houri—full of grace and fascination, 
and the promise of voluptuousness. Her 
conversation was still more extraordinary. 
She resisted all his blandishments with the 
wisdom of a Minerva, and rejected,his offers, 
but met him by appointment every day 
during the continuance of the fair. At last 
came the moment for decision—the alterna. 
tive was continuance with her odious associ- 
ates. She yielded to his respectful and 
ardent importunities and attentions, and 
withdrew with him to his castle, and eighteen 
months of perfect felicity followed—he 
solely given up to instructing her, and she 
to eagerly imbibing. She had high talents, 
and lofty feelings, and strong passions, but 
all were absorbed in the intensity of her 
affection for the count. Still she felt occa- 
sionally her position—she knew she had 
fallen—she had lost her self-respect ; but 
the devotion of her admirer turned her from 
dwelling upon degradation. The first in- 
tention in cultivating her musical and dra- 
matic talents was the stage ; but this object 
had been gradually lost sight of in the 
charms and contentment of each other’s 
society, and the pursuits of literature. At 
length the count proposes a little change, 
and a visit to Dresden is determined upon, 
mainly for the advantage of music-masters. 
There the report of her beauty and her powers 
quickly spread. The king, Augustus, re- 
nowned for his gallantry, hearsof her, and the 
supposed purpose of the instructions she was 
taking at Dresden, and lays his commands 
upon the count to permit her to be introduced 
in some new piece that was then forthcoming. 
Though reluctantly by both parties, consent 
was yielded. Mabel appeared, and carried all 
hearts by the splendour of her charms, and 
the superlatiyeness of her performance. 
2R 
