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    A eon of the unfortunate Eossi has just published the third volume of his father ' s Economic Politique . The two former volumes , remarkable for their elegance of style and clearness of exposition , treat of the production of wealth ? this concluding volume treats of that all-important subject ^ -distribution .

    Untitled Article

    THE DAUGHTER OF NIGHT . The Daughter of Night : a Story of the Preient Time . By S . W . Fullom . 3 vob . H . Golburn . Mb . Fullom has decided talents for effective melodrame : an eye for strong " situations , a superb disregard of probability , a command of coarse energetic dialogue , and rapidity in succession of incidents . If he wquld but allow his natural bias to lead him , he would produce a wild stirring romance of the Ainsworth school , and we thought bis Daughter of Night was to be one , from its opening chapters , which are very striking . What could we not expect from a heroine , who , in the

    brief space of one hundred and sixty pages , escapes such " parlous frights" as the explosion of a minea house falling in with her—a gentleman seducer of the most truculent kind—an accusation of infanticide—and a fire ! But unfortunately this galloping excitement is subdued to an amble , then to a slow walk . The melodrame is relinquished ; and relinquished for feeble attempts at high comedy . In what may be called the " Blood and Thunder " department of Fiction Mr . Fullom is at his ease ; but in comedy—in depicting English life—especially the life of the upper classes , he is not at present successful .

    The Daughter of Night is introduced to us as a trapper in a coal mine . Stunned by the effects of an explosion , she is taken to the young squire ' s house to be attended to—the young squire having noticed her unusual beauty , and wishing , &c . Let us add , in passing , that up to the introduction of the squire we hoped we had got among a new set of people altogether unknown to the Circulating Libraryand copied from life itself . Coarse though

    , they are in lang uage and manners these rude sons of the pit are infinitely more interesting than a whole drawing-room of Vavasours and Lords Childars ; and it is a pity Mr . Fullom did not remain among them . However , Millicent is at the Hall , and you know what to expect . But it does not arrive ; something quite unexpected takes place . The squire is called up to London ; Millicent left alone in the hall awakes , and can ' t make out why

    she is there , so gets up to enquire : — " Opening the door , Millicent perceived a white figure leaning against the wall , evidently a woman , but , alarmed at Millicent ' s appearance , she instantly turned to retreat . Her tottering steps , however , could move only a few paces , when she was obliged to stop , being hardly able to prevent herself from falling . As she reeled back , a roll of something dropped from her arms , which Millicpnt , flying forward to assist her , picked up . The moonlight fell upon it , and a cry broke from the girl as she discovered that it was a dead infant .

    " The woman herself was scarcely a less startling object . Long jetty tresses fell dishevelled down her shoulders , which were wrapped round with a shawl , fastened over a night-dress ; and her face was pale as ashes . Her form , too , was slight and drooping ; and in her white garments , tinged with the brilliant moonbeams , she looked more like a wandering and unquiet phantom than a living child of earth . " For one instant she waa rivotted to the spot , speech-Jess , powcrleBS . Then , however , she found both speech and strength—the strength of frenzy , the voice of unutterable woe Her quick , throbbing words thrilled the ear , though scarcely rising above her breath .

    " ' Hush ! hush ! nlie . said , with tremulous eagerness , as site caught Millicent ' s arm with one hand , and drew away the dead child with the other , ' or we shall be heard . Is it Sarah ? Tell me—who are you ? ' " I ' m Milly Itennel , ma ' am , one of the trap girls in the pit . ' " The lady's hand dropped from her arm , as if para-• lyzotl . " From the pit ! ' she said , shuddering . 'Then how are you here ?¦' " ' I don ' t know , ma ' am ; but I was in the workings when the accident wan , and l '\ v just come-to . 1 don ' t know where I be , ma ' am . ' " The lady averted her face ; then said , hurriedly , "' Thin is Mr . IJclwood ' s , ami—and —¦' " Ab ! now I know , and you'd be . Miris Helen , ma ' am . Oh , dear ! you'll fall , you'll fall , Miss Helen ! l , ot me hold ' ee up . ' " ' No ! I do not need your help . You mny go away — you can go back to your room . ' " The girl receded a paco or two , hut immediately returned . " ' Don ' t ' ee nend in « away MJhh Helen , and you ho }>* dly ! No ! no ! I'll stop with ' ee—watch by ' ee ; and " do thou lay down . The dear hubby won ' t need to have it * nioOMVfQlniaii . It ' n cold dead . ' '' yOhjrhow ^ NRH id the young mother , with u hurst of jM ^ fStSfpwhitfh ^ nfcadft her forget everything but her biuI . ^ V vY ; v ¦ ' ¦ ' ¦ ' f ' . \ y / \ ^ && \ t iA

    bereavement . 'I know '—and she pressed the clammy , rigid body to her bosom ;—' and I have not strength to carry it out and bury it . ' She sobbed convulsively , hanging so fondly over that precious casket , rifled , alas . of its treasure . My child , my child ! I cannot even give yoq a grave . ' ,,,. „ . i . " ' I'll take it out for ' ee , Miss Helen , ' said Millicent . ' Do , do let me—if ao be , ' she added , with an instinctive perception of some mystery , ' thee don't want it to lay in the house . ' ' ? Her word * seemed to reeal the lady , who looked up suddenly , fixing a searching glance on her face . " ? Will you—will you do this for me ? « he said ,

    ' and be secret ? And yet , do not mistajce me . j . am » mother , but I am a wife—though from some unhappy circumstances I cannot avow my marriage . This is why my child must be removed clandestinely . Should it be discovered here it would soon be reported to my uncle , and his anger would kill me . But I find now J cannot—I am too weak , too faint , to fulfil the dreadful duty myself . ' " ' It would be bringin' on your own buryin , misstakin' away your own life . Give the poor little babby to me , miss , and I'll do it . I'll take it up to the hilkaide , where all the dead ' s layin' together , as if they was children sleepin ' . It'll be quiet there . ' ?

    " « Oh ! will you indeed bury it in the churchyard Dear , brave child ! this will cbnsole , comfort me . ' " ' I promise ' ee I'll do it , Miss Helen ; and never misdoubt but I will . Only don't ' ee stay here in the cold , miss , or may be you'll soon belayin' by the poor babby ' s side . ' , " The lady made no answer , but clasped the infant more fondly in her arms , while her lips lingered on its marble face ; then , recollecting herself , she checked these transports , and gave the child to Millicent . " ' You have promised me to be secret ? ' she said , falteringly . 'You will never speak of this—never , to any one ? ' " ' Never , ma ' am ' . I'd sooner die first . ' " ' Thank you , thank you ! He—that is—I mean your young master , Mr . Charles , will know of it , and I will take care that he rewards you . Now you shall go . '

    " ' But don't you come , miss—no , don't , or I'll be too feared to know what I ' se doin' on . Tell me the way out , miss , and I won't need any one with me . ' " It must be even so , ' said the lady , but too conscious of her sinking powers . ' Those stairs lead to a door which opens into the garden , and here is the key of the garden-gate . ' " Miliicent turned away , but was stopped by Helen , as she bent again over the lifeless babe . A moment more , and Millicent bore it away , leaving the bereaved mother without a hope on the wide , dreary earth .

    " A thick cloud was scudding over the moon , as the girl stepped with her ghostly burden into the grounds , and before she had gone many paces , the silvery orb was completely obscured , rendering it difficult to make her way to the glen . Here , while inserting the key , a large mastiff rushed out upon her , as far as his chain would extend , but starting back , she escaped unhurt , though the fierce animal prevented her passing forth . Dreading , however , that his loud , deep bark would alarm the household , she rallied her resolution , and stepped fearlessly forward , pronouncing his name , which , as the dog frequently attended Mr . Belwood to the works , all the miners were familiar with . Lion met her advance suspiciously , receiving the first caresses with a growl ; but rinding her undaunted , became by degrees more docile , and she availed herself of a favourable moment to glide out .

    " She glanced rapidly up and down the road , as if at that dead hour there could be any fear of being observed , and felt reassured by the universal stillness . Yet the scene was solemn ; for the vast , massive , impenetrable stretch of cloud , which hung like a pall overhead , was now again edged with light , shedding a spectral radiance on objects beneath . Around lay a wide , open valley , bounded on one Bide by the well-wooded park of the lord of the manor , and on the other by gentle eminences , the nearest of which was crowned by the church—its venerable tower , luxuriantly draped with ivy , the hoary verdure of centuries , standing up like a fortress , invulnerable alike to man and time .

    " A sound reached her ear—at first faintly , then with more distinctness ; and , remaining stationary , she discerned a home and cart turn out of the church lane , and come at a quick pace down the road . To escape observation she crept behind the hedge , waiting till it passed , when , becoming more confident , she resumed her way . " Arriving at the lane , a few hurried steps brought her to the little church , which she had often regarded ut a distance so earnestly , so thoughtfully , wondering what could be its purpose . And now it rose before tier in niyatic mujesty , a noil , of guardian of the dead , nestled ho trustingly and tranquilly around it—instead of a beacon and watchtower to the living—the porch of thut eternal life , which has the grave for portal .

    " Awe-struck and trembling she entered the churchyard . All was still—all , except her own heart , which , wby she knew not , beat and throbbed wildl y ; and , laying the dead child on the grass , she commenced her pious task . " The nparlc « ho had caught , up in her way through the gurden made , at first , but little impression on the hard , dry earth , and the Ichh , peihupu , us her trembling hands , from huiry as much as ( ear , wanted their customary energy . J ' Wry breath of air stirring the foliage of the cypresses—every rustle of the waving ivy , vvliieh hung over the old belfry like h prophet ' s mantle every motion of the ghudowa on the church tower , made her bosom , her inmoMt hciirt , tiwell with terror . JJut gradually the work proceeded ; the turf wuh removed ; the firm gravel tossed up ; and tlwk last narrow bed , ut once criidle and grave , fully prepared } "Softly did » he luy down Ah « little sleeper ; and though , like too many in this wUghty empire , having no

    knowledge of God—ignorant alike of his worship and . his existence—the tboughts that filled her mind ascended to Heaven as a consecrating prayer , hallowing both the deed and moment . AH was carefully adjusted , and she began to fill up the grave . " Now , then , what are you doin' on there ? ' demanded a voice . " With a wild start Millicent dropped the spade and looked round . The spot , covered by the transept of the church , wa » buri « d in deep shadow , but her eyes , so accustomed to darkness , distinguished a man ' s head , resting on his arms , crossed above a , n adjacent tombstone "

    The foregoing extract will give the most favourable idea of Mr . Fullom ' s power . But there is too little of it in the three volumes . Millicent is taken away and educated as a lady , becomes the companion of Lords and Sir Charleses , the idol of a select circle , subdues the hearts of the haughtiest men , although they know she was originall y a trapper , goes through abundance of adventure , is thrown penniless upon the world once more , and has to eke out a miserable existence among Spitalfields weavers , and finally marries Lord Childars

    and lives happy all the rest of her life . There is , consequently , no lack of the M ups and downs / but from the time when Millicent leaves the pit to become a lady and move amidst the upper classes the interest of the story greatly decreases , and the power of the writer seems paralyzed . There are some good scenes , nevertheless , here and there ; but they are barely sufficient to lure the reader through the old worn-out materials from which the book is built up . When character is pourtrayed we are indifferent as to the incidents : but

    whenas in this , and the vast majority of novels—characters are mere masks borrowed from the nearest Nathan to sport with at this extremely "fancy ball , " then we insist upon something in the incidents themselves , or in their combination which shall compensate for the deficiency .

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    THE HAND OF GOD IN HISTORY . The Hand of God in History ; or , Divine Providence Historically Illustrated . By Hollis Read , A . M . Glasgow : VV . Collins . A cihuous remnant of the primordial , or supernatural , phasis of humanity lingers still among us in the vulgar notion of attributing different incidents to Providence . If a vessel is wrecked , and five hundred 6 ouls perish , the fortunate few who escape are looked upon as saved bv the " special mercy of

    Providence , " no one enquiring as to the " special mercy " which drowned the five hundred ! Yet , if Providence is to be seen at all in the matter , it is to be seen in the storm and the wreck quite as distinctly as in the wandering plank which floated one man in safety to the shore . The truth is all events are providential , or none are . One would think that the proposition , " God rules the world , " admitted of no dispute—at least among Theists . But those who talk of Providence throw a doubt upon

    it : they imply that Providence does not always shape the course of events , but only on those occasions when the "finger of God " is seen . Now , to any mind at all tinctured with philosophy , it must be evident that , starting from the proposition , " God rules the world , " we arrive at a complete negation of Providence , in the vulgar acceptation of it . For , if God rules the world—either by incessant feats of an omnipotent will , or by simple laws incessantly operating , it is equally clear that b

    the " special interposition " which is understood y Providence implies an absurdity . If the interposition be incessant , it cannot be special . If the universe be left to its own laws , then an interposition implies that these laws have not been adequate to effect the Creator ' s purpose—or it implies that be did not foresee certain diificultics . Thus , whatever explanation he adopted of the mode by which Cod rules the world , we are forced to deny a " special Providence : " when the whole universe is but a

    mode of God ' s action , why select a single atom that universe as a revelation of His presence ? Why say this is the mercy of God , when all is ? Sha 1 we imitate that old woman who piously ejaculated , " 1 have but two teeth in my head ; but , by th « mercy of Providence , they ' re opposite each other ¦ ' If it be , ; ih Plato saytj , that God alternately govern s and forsakes the world , then we can undcrntii'm thin belief in Providence ; but , for u Christian l » " ' losopher , the belief ia singularly illogical .

    As we said , the belief is current still . Old women find their teeth opposite each other , ami cannot credit the Iuwh of nature with power to per / on " such u miracle . On our table lies a work by »» American clergyman , written with very American eloquence , on the great manifestations of the " Jlaim of God" legible in history . He ransacks history to

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    108 lEllir %$ &&tt * [ SATURN ,

• Citation
  • Leader (1850-1860), Feb. 1, 1851, page 108, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse-os.kdl.kcl.ac.uk/periodicals/l/issues/vm2-ncseproduct1868/page/12/