The Press. — London, England, 1854-06-17 00:00:00

JUNE 17, 1854. Nittraturt. Memorial 4 •of the Life of Amelia Opie. By Cecilia Lucy Brightwell. London : Long mane. FgVI things more strikingly distinguish Eng lish society than the v ariously - marked cha racter of life in provincial districts. The spirit prevalent at Devonshire is almost alien from that existing in Yorkshire ; and in each of the towns of Liverpool, Bristol, Leeds, and Birmingham even a superficial observer will recognise a number of dissimilar types. Norwich is especially peculiar in the tone of its society, as modified by its ancient tradi tions and modern developments. Its inhabi tants think highly of themselves, and they have uo small reason for being proud of the intellectual cultivation among some of their private circles and the activity of their mer cantile classes. We speak by the card when we say that amongst the earliest and most effective supporters of the Crystal Palace of 1851 the people of Norwich were honourably forward. For the last three or four generations the Alderson connection has ranked very high in Norwich. The late Doctor Alderson, like his father before him, was much respected for his accomplishments and worth. His nephew g races the bench, excellent at once as a jurist and a classical scholar, and possessed of no little wit when the ancient tongues are made the vehicles of his humour. One of the cou sins of Mr. Baron Alderson was Amelia Opie, once a popular novelist, and with virtues far superior to her literary merits, although the latter were considerable. Her life is the sub ject of the volume before us; and not a few will be interested in reading about one whose " Father and Daughter" drew tears, in " days of auld lang syne," from many eyes unac customed to the melting mood. The daughter of Doctor Alderson, Mrs. Opie, in early life, married the painter on whose name her pen assisted to confer a wide cele brity. London society being opened to her, she saw with interest many of its passing notorieties, and viewed its external aspects with the lively curiosity of a provincial ob server. Her letters in the volume before us remind one of the pages of Moore's Diary, in being catalogues of " high people " with whom the writer came into transient contact; and hero and there we are treated to some very readable and graphic passages. In skilful hands the materials of the volume might have been rendered very effective ; but Mr. and Miss Brightwell are not practised in author ship, and the work is crude and fragmentary. Its transitions are abrupt, its statements are often incomplete, and there is no attempt to estimate the talents of Mrs. Opie. Of the most peculiar incident in her life, the adop tion of the principles of Quakerism, we do not obtain a satisfactory account; and there are many phases of life at Norwich left unde scribed, though the writers of such a work might have introduced them naturally, and interested the reader in describing them. As the volume must be read for its original letters, its quality will be best shown by ex tracts. Before selecting some passages we may cite the following sketch of Mrs. Opie's appearance late in life, as some of our readers must remember her, on her visits to London during the May meetings : She was of about the standard height of women; her hair was worn in waving folds in front, and behind it was seen through the cap, gathered into a braid ; its colour was peculiar—'twist flaxen and grey; it was unusually fine and delicate, and had a natural bend or wave. Her Quaker cap was of beautiful lawn, and fastened beneath the chin with whimpers, which had small crimped frills; her dress was usually of rich silk or satin, often of a fawn or grey colour ; and over the bust was drawn a muslin or net handkerchief in thick folds, fastening into the waist, round which was worn a band of the same material as the dress; an apron, usually of net or muslin, protected (or adorned) the front of the gown. Her feet, which were small and well formed, peeped out beneath the dress. On her hands she wore small, black, netted muffatees (she sometimes repaired them while talking to her friends), and the cuffs of her gown were secured by a small loop at one corner, which she wore passed over the thumb, so as o prevent them from turning back or rucking upon the arla ; her figure was stout, the throat short; her carriage THE PRESS. was invariably erect, and she bore her head rather thrown back, and with an air of dignity. Her countenance, in her later years, lost much of that fire which once irradiated it; but the expression was more pleasing, softer, more tender, and loving. Her eyes were especially charming ; there was in them an ardour mingled with gentleness that bespoke her true nature, and occasionally they were raised upwards with a look most peculiar and expressive, when her sympathy was more than usually excited. Her com plexion was fair, and the kindling blush mantled in her cheek, betraying any passing emotion ; for, like her friend Lafayette, she " blushed like a girl to hear her own praises." Altogether she attracted you, and you drew near to her, and liked to look into her face, and felt that old age, iu her, was beautiful and comely. Notwithstanding the professed humility of the Society of Friends, we have often seen Quaker beaux and belles, Brummels under broadbrims, and " Lady Amaranths" in lilac satin and point lace. The foregoing descrip tion of finery is suggestive of the inconsis tency of the Quakers. But wo pass on to some of the anecdotes recorded by Mrs. Opie. She was in London in the stirring season of 1814, when it was crowded with remarkable persons. Amongst others whom she met was the late Lady Sarah Napier, who is thus intro duced at a party at Westmacott the sculp tor's : When most of the company was gone Lady C. took the seat vacated by Lady Mornington, that mother of great men, and it was next a venerable•looking blind woman, whom Lord C. had previously pointed out to me as the once celebrated beauty, Lady Sarah Lennox. She is now grey, blind, and seems both by her voice and manner to be bowed by various cares; but perhaps I fancied this. The compilers of this ill executed work ovi • dently do not know anything about the history of Lady Sarah. If they were acquainted with her story they might have remarked that the mother of the conqueror of Scinde was a fit ting person to sit next the mother of the Wellesleys. They publish tho following re ferences to Lady Sarah without any note or comment:— Now to go back to Lady Sarah, who, as I said before, is blind. • • • Lord Tullamore came to me and said, " Now almost all the company is gone, you will sing a little ballad." I rose, and went to Lady Charleville. " This," said she, " is Lady S. Napier, will you sing her a ballad?" and, recollecting how ill I once used Lady C. in not answering a letter of hers for three years, and eager to make amends, I said I could not sing anything worth hearing, but I would try. " Surely," said Lady Sarah, "that was injudicious ; Mrs. Opie would rather not have had the attention of the company so loudly solicited." " Very true," replied Lady C., " but your ladyship is always the best-bred woman in the world, and I the worst, and I never see you without taking a lesson in manners." a • • Well, after having beguiled my fear a little, by inquiring of Lady S. after her sister, Lady Louisa Cottony, I begun, and. sung, "Nay, take it, Patty," and decently, considering. By Lady Sarah was one of her suns, who, with his brothers, was wounded in every engagement abroad, and one of them taken up for dead. 1 never saw a handsomer man! I could not help looking at him! He is very black, with black moustachms, that make him look like a picture of some young Venetian by Titian, and his manner was so pleasing ! Ho has his mother's outline, enlarged into manly beauty, and he has such line dark eyes The brilliant and once beautiful woman al luded to in these passages was the Lady Sarah Lennox of Horace Walpole and the " Grenville Papers." Some remarkable proofs of her lite rary ability are to be found in Moore's "Life of Lord Edward Fitzgerald," and the pen of Mrs. Opie has now added another to our printed illustrations of one of the most highly endowed women of the last century. The mother of the Napiers was a far more interest ing personage in society than the mother of the Wellesleys. We meet some very amusing proofs of bad editing in this volume. We select one as the passage is highly illustrative of the vanity of " Chancellor Ego," the great advocate Erskine. Neither Mrs. Opie nor her editors appear to be aware of his ridiculous propen sity to talk constantly about himself : Consequently, great was my impatience till the day of the dinner came, and the great orator arrived ; but though he again talked most pleasantly, and on law subjects too, not one single allusion did he make to the Huntingdon cause. In vain did I try to take courage, and remind him of his promise; I was not then a married woman, and fancied it would be presuming to do so ; but, when I heard his carriage announced, and saw him about to depart, made valiant by despair, I exclaimed, "Oh ! Mr. Erskine, you have not fulfilled your promise 1 you have not told us the particulars of the Huntingdon cause ! " " True ! " he replied, starting and turning back, " but you shall not be disappointed," and, leading me to the sofa, h'• seated himself beside me, and went through the whole of the proceedings. lie gave ue the evidence on both sides, 567 told us what his opponent had said for the plaintiff, and he for the defendant; and, warming as he proceeded, he soon grow as much interested in the details as we were, and when he came to the verdict of the jury, which was in favour of his client, his countenance beamed with animation while he described the general plaudit with which the verdict was received in the court, and tune shouts which were heard outside the walls from the assembled multitude ! Mrs. Opie fails to give us a lively sketch of Erskine "on his legs," though she attempts it, and in lieu of doing so refers us to the monody of Sheridan on Garrick, which really. does contain some lines that depict Erskin e a style of delivery. Of another celebrated orator she has given us a much better picture, and we regret that it is too long for us to extract unbroken. When George Canning was an Eton boy he visited Norwich, and even there, it appears, he was looked on as a prodigy. Along with some of his friends he disturbed by loud talking a concert at Norwich, but the grace of his apology charmed those whom he had annoyed, and, after describing the scene, Mrs. Opie proceeds : From that time he possessed a higher t the in my esteem than his successes at Eton could have given him. Many years elapsed before I saw hint again; for, though I became rather intimate with his aunt, he never visited at the house while 1 happened to be one of the guests ; and at an early period of my life the family quitted Norwich. But I saw him soon after he obtained a seat iu Parliament (1793), and when the Pitt Administration had won the young orator from his early political friends and ranked him amongst their adherents. At the time to which I allude he was standing on Windsor-terrace, bare headed ; his cheek evidently flushed with pleasurable emotion, and listening to George the Third, who, with the Queen and the Royal Family, was taking his evening walk there. The royal party stopped sonic time before the young member, and it was with an e►uotion of pleasure that I saw him thus publicly distinguished by his Sovereign. The last time I beheld him was in the hall of Bucking ham-house, when the Queen and Regent received at that palace, and he was returning from a levee. With what increased interest did I then behold him ; he was then in middle life, but I saw the same character of face and features as when I was interested in the Eton boy. How different was now his bearing; how different the character of his person altogether! There was a degree of dignity in his mien, and a loftiness in the carriage of his head which a well-founded consciousness of his importance in the scale of society would naturally give, at the same time there was a slight expression of sadness in his smiles; yet he might be justly called the child of prosper ous ambition His talents had raised him to the highest offices of the State ; his eloquence was the delight of his friends, and the terror of his enemies ; he had formed a high and happy connection in marriage ; he was ad mired by his opponents, and loved by his intimates; anti it seemed as if this world could bestow on him nothing more. Among his mourners none was more sincere than myself, and rarely, even yet, do I pass his statue without breathing a sigh to his memory, and exclaiming, as I gaze on that sculptured form, " Oh rare George Canning! " Parts of the foregoing passage read to us the verses of Mr. Hookham Frere on Canning's character, but we do not suppose that Mrs. Opie ever saw them. What Nlrs. Opie has said of him, along with Mr. Newton's recollec tions in the "Early Days of George Canning," will assist the future biographer of that famous orator, if his life can bo adequately written. The reputation of Mrs. Opie as an authoress belongs so completely to the past that wo need not enter on its discussion. With much pathos of manner, her power of creating character was feeble. She excelled in strong situations, and was fluent in a sentimental style. Her letters and diaries in this volume are feebly penned, but she found surer grounds for happiness than in trying to grow enduring literary lau rels. She was a Sister of Charity " unat tached," was pious without superstition, and exemplified her religious faith by active works of spiritual mercy. She abandoned "the world " for the last many years of her life, and soothed by affectionate solicitude the de clining years of an aged parent. Scrupulously tender in dealing with the reputations of others, her religious serenity of soul gave her the happiness of content. A believer in the Atonement, she worshipped her Maker sin cerely, and seems to have found as much hap piness as can be looked for in this lower scene of trial. There are a few characteristic anecdotes scattered through these pages that we may possibly find room for on another day.