PEVERIL OF THE PEAK.

The story of Peveril of the Peak is as follows: Sir Geoffrey Peveril of the Peak, the hero of the tale, is an old Cavalier Baronet, in Derbyshire, living in the reign of Charles II, discarded from an illegitimate son of William the Conqueror. He was proud of small advantages, angry at small disappointments, full of prejudices, vain of his birth, contentious and quarrelsome with all that differed with him, convivial and kind to the poor, except when they plundered his game; and one' who detested alike a roundhead, a poacher, and a presbyterian.

When the civil war broke out, Peveril raised a regiment for the king and was in several engagements, until at length, when his regiment was cut to pieces by Poyntz, he threw himself into his mansion, Martindale Castle, and defended it as long as he could. Obliged at last to surrender, he was punished by fine and sequestration. At the final defeat at Worcester he was again taken prisoner, and would doubtless have suffered, but for the interference of his neighbour, Major Bridgenorth of Moultrassie Hall. Though the parties had joined different sides in the war, yet their wives had formed an acquaintance sufficiently strong for their husbands to

do a kindness for each other. The Major also paid a somewhat liberal sum for part of the lands which Sir Geoffroy was obliged to sell. Major Bridgenorth, though a presbyterian is no republican, whom the love of liberty and religion, in the austere form professed by his party, had led, like many others, far beyond his first intention in opposition to his hard fated sovereign. He is equally upright in his intentions with his neighbour knight, and averse from the extremities to which the independents proceeded under the sway of Cromwell. He deals justly according to his views with every one, and very kindly with Peveril when oppressed by the long parliament. A series of losses and privations in his own family, which is at last reduced to one daughter, Alice, not very likely to survive the mother who had died after giving her birth, deepens the gloom on his serious and reflecting mind. The amiable and judicious consort of the stout baronet takes charge of the girl, a few years younger than her only son, Julian. This affords some compensation for the benefits conferred on the cavalier in the major's day of power. Mutual worth produces mutual benevolence, but there are too many opposing elements in the character of each to admit of social intercourse. It is enough that the knight loves his neighbour, not as himself, but as well as the best possible round-head could be loved by a zealot in loyalty. The major, again, regards the knight as much as christian charity could afford to an unenlightened sinner who had shared in shedding the blood of the saints.

The restoration of Charles II effects a somewhat closer intimacy between Peveril and Bridgenorth. At a banquet at Martindale Court, in honour of the restoration, the far-famed Countess of Derby, the royal Queen of Man, appears through a pannel, to the terror of Julian and Alice, who are in the room. Bridgenorth is there, and learns from the Countess her having ordered the execution of William Christian, the brother-in-law of Bridgenorth, for giving Fairfax possession of the Isle of Man. This so enrages him, that he orders her under arrest. Lady Peveril, however, places the major under charge of her servants, until the Countess has time to escape. In the mean time, Sir Geoffrey Peveril arrives, and announces that there was a warrant from the council to arrest the Countess, whose husband he had served under. He, however, determines to conduct her away, and, in doing so, encounters Bridgenorth, and a poursuivant with the warrant, which he seizes and tears to pieces, defeats the party, and conveys the Countess to Vale Royal.

The imaginary feelings of worthlessness which fanaticism induces, makes Bridgenorth eschew the sweets of life. He leaves his house, and places his daughter Alice under the charge of a self-important gouvernante in the Isle of Man, where the widow of his slaughtered relative resides. There, after a lapse of some years, she is discovered by Julian Peveril. They are of course destined for each other; but the "bloom of her young desire" is checked in the fair Alice, by the dread of paternal displeasure from the rivalry between the families. Her struggles

between duty and affection are pourtrayed in two scenes of exquisite relish. At first, unknown to each other, the lovers exult in the bright summer of their joys-in the fragrant and refreshing sweetness which youth and innocence taste in the dawn of tender attachment. Julian Peveril is, however, destined to act a more conspicuous part than the ardent lover. His patroness is implicated in the popish plot, and to London he is dispatched in order to ascertain its true character and the aspect of the political horizon. The Countess has an attendant, a most important personage in the story called Fenella, but whose real name is Zarah. This singular person, whose acts savour more of fairy potency than of merely mortal power, is of bright and felicitous creation, and may be ranked among the happiest efforts of the author of Waverley. She is of slender yet perfect symmetry—of an eastern hue, and with that wild and fiery expression in her eyes, which denotes a mind full of strong and vehement passions. She is not the less remarkable for being supposed to be deaf and dumb-a character which she assumes during her services in the household of the Countess. When Peveril embarked in a sloop that was ready for him, Fenella, who had a secret attachment for him, forced herself on board. In vain did he indicate, to this apparently helpless but interesting creature, the necessity of her returning; but she, by signs, made him understand that her presence was a necessary protection from some danger with which he was threatened: Fenella was, however, sent back by the Dutch captain who commanded the sloop.

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On arriving at Liverpool, Julian meets with Topham, the noted parliamentary messenger, in whose proscribed list he is alarmed to find the name of his father. Topham is accompanied with two low fellows, Captain Dangerfield and Everett. Dangerfield swears he will purge the garner of papists. Stick to that noble captain," answered the officer, "but prithee reserve thy oaths for the Court of Justice; it is but sheer waste to throw them away as you do in your ordinary conversation." Fear you nothing, master Topham," answered Dangerfield, regret to keep a man's gifts in use; and were I altogether to renounce oaths in my private discourse, how should I know how to use one when I needed it? but you hear me use none of your papist abjurations. I swear not by the mass, or before George, or by any thing that belongs to idolatry; but such downright oaths as may serve a poor protestant gentleman, who would fain serve heaven and the king.” "Bravely spoken, most noble Festus," said his yoke-fellow. "But do not suppose, that although I do not use to garnish my words with oaths out of season, that I will be wanting, when called upon, to declare the height and the depth, the width and the length, of the hellish plot against the king and the protestant faith."

In Julian's road to Derbyshire, he meets at a small inn, a stranger whom he saw at Liverpool, and who first declares himself to be Ganlesse, a Roman Catholic priest; but finding his companion no catholic, states that he is • Simon Canter, a poor preacher of the word.' Peveril determines to get