The Press. — London, England, 1858-10-30 00:00:00

1072 TH the sound of his clear, ringing, manly voice was heard, all cased talking, and he was listened to with breathless attention. I should like to have taken down in shorthand what he said, but as I did not do that, and cannot recall his eloquent words, I must give you a summary of his opinion in my own hum drum way. He has studied Oriental languages and metaphors till his speech is charmingly embellished by the admarture of them with our own polyglot I:n96A. When I looked at him I could almost have fancied St. Paul was standlng before me, or rather I should say St. John, for I believe St. John was much the finer man of the two, and Sir Everard is, in my ideas, the perfection of manly beauty. His head is remarkably classically shaped, and his eye is magnificent. He has no great profusion of hair, but what there is of it is of a beautiful silver grey ; he is neither tall nor short-1 imagine about five feet ten, and rather stoutly made He was delightful on the subject of love and matrimony, and drew such a picture of what a husband ought to be, 1 begged of him to desist, declaring it made my mouth water, and it would almost induce me to put the chain on my neck once more. A person whose perception of humour is so slight as to set down in sober earnest the passages we have marked in italics, is clearly beyond the reach of criticism. The book shows some liveli ness, and had it been a first attempt we should have said less about the faults to which we have drawn attention ; but as it appears from the title page that Miss Kennedy has perpetrated several other works, we need not disguise our real opi nion. Our readers will by this time have had enough of " Shreds and Patches." It was a happy design of Messrs. Smith and Elder to present the public with a series of approved works, printed on is . paper, and offered at a moderate price. T.e public has been disgusted with the niass of literary rubbish carted out from the paper-stores of low publishers, and we are sure that people will readily pay half-a crown for really good books of fiction, worthy of being placed in a bookcase, or circulated amongst the various members of a family. "Jane Eyre," we are convinced, will always command a sale at half-a-crown; and we are much pleased at seeing this series of Fiction issued at a price which will satisfy the general requirements of cheapness combined with merit. "Deerbrook," however, is a novel upon whose readability opinion is divided. Some find it tame and prosy ; others like it as natural and _simple. It was examined with inter es t a t th e ti me of its first publication, but it did not then obtain a striking success. Yet it found some circles of admirers, and to the rising generation of novel readers it will be virtually a new work. It ex hibits some of the best features of Miss Mar tineau's mind. She has a strong and energetic, rather than a deep and plastic intellect. There is not one page in Deerbrook " which glows with the fire of genius, but in nearly every chapter there is seen the steady light of a clear intellect, along with practised literary talent. The style of Deerbrook " is smooth, equable. and unaffected ; and the reflections contain no odd views, no strange theories, no " queer" crotchets, such as may be looked for in other productions of the authoress. Miss Martineau apparently intended in Deerbrook "to attempt the application of Miss Austen's manner to a portraiture of English country life, drawn from a moral point of view. Much of Miss Austen's mannerism is undoubtedly seen in " Deer brook " copied carefully with much ability, but the mind of Miss Austen is not in it. That authoress had a special faculty for dramatically exhibiting dull and commonplace people, so that persons whom one would not care to meet in actual life seem so vivid and graphically drawn in her pages that we forget their pettiness in our admiration for the genius and vivacity of the writer who describes them with such spirit. In "Deerbrook " we cannot say that there is any dramatic delineation of character. Nature is imitated. but it is in a servile, bald, and literal way. The dramatur persona arc wooden and stiff, and we miss the vivacious dialogues with which Miss Austen knew how to season the every-day litc of the insipid . people whom she knew how to make interesting in her novels. Another fault in " Deercrook" is that Miss Martineau needlessly hampered herself by con fining the story within the raw- of a small circle in a small country town. In Miss Austen's novel there was a variety of classes: we were intro duced to the country squire, his proud wife, and ambitious daughters, and to some of their poor relations, to the professional people of the neigh bouring village, the vicar, the doctor, the attor- E PRESS, OCTOBER 30, 1858. ney, the keeper of the genteel boarding-school, and her half-bred pupils. " The great vulgar and the small " (in Cowley's words) were drawn by Miss Austen with nimble fancy and playful ness of observation. But in "Deerbrook " we never forget that there is a book in our hands ; the story does not rivet us; we are not interested about Mr. Hope, we do not sympathise with Margaret, and we care little what becomes of all the people to whom we are introduced. Neither does "Deerbrook " exhibit any co ;- descension to the natural desire of readers for being amused. There is nothing droll, witty, or grotesquely humorous in it. It has no such passages as the opening conversation in Pride and Prejudice," between Mr. and Mrs. Bennett, and which might have been written by a comic dramatist like Sheridan. Nor are there any brilliant sayings —any of those bons mots which stud Mrs. Gore's novels, and make even her second-rate fictions attractive. Crabbe was called a " Pope in worsted stockings," and "Deerbrook " reminds us of a Miss Austen in brown holland. The best and most eloquent passage in the book is that descriptive of a woman's rapture at the sense of being beloved. We shall extract it entire : How different was it all when she returned to the house ! How she loved the whole world, and no one in it was dull, and nothing was trifling, and it was out of the power of circumstances to vex her ! Life had become heaven : its doubts, its cares, its troubles, were gone, and all had given place to a soul-penetrating joy. She should grow perfect now, for she had one whom she believed perfect to lead her on. Her pride, her jealousy, would trouble her no more: it was for want of sympathy—perfect sympathy always at hand—that she bad been a prey to them. She should pine no more, for there was one who was her own. A calm, nameless, all-pervading bliss had wrapped itself round her spirit, and brought her as near to her Maker as if she had been his favoured child. There needs no other proof that happiness is the most wholesome moral atmosphere, and that in which the immortality of man is destined ultimately to thrive, than the elevation of soul, the religious aspiration, which attends the first assurance, the first sober certainty, of true love. There is much of this religious aspiration amidst all warmth of virtuous affections. There is a vivid love of God in the child that lays its cheek against the cheek of its mother, and clasps its arms about her neck. God is thanked (perhaps un consciously) for the brightness of his earth, on summer evenings, when a brother and sister, who have long been parted, pour out their heart stores to each other, and feel their course of thought brighteni ng as it runs. When the aged parent hears of the honours his children have won, or looks round upon their innocent faces as the glory of his decline, his mind reverts to Him who in them pre scribed the purpose of his life, and bestowed its grace. But, religious as is the mood of every good affection, none is so devotional as that of love, especially so called. The soul is then the very temple of adoration, of faith, of holy parity, of heroism, of charity. At such a moment the human creature shoots up into the angel: there is nothing on earth too defiled for its charity—nothing in hell too appalling for its heroism—nothing in heaven too glorious for its sympathy. Strengthened, sustained, vivified by that most mysterious power, union with another spirit, it feels itself set well forth on the way of victory over evil, sent out conquering and to conquer. There is no other such crisis in human life. The philosopher may experience uncontrollable agitation in verifying his prin ciple of balancing systems of worlds, feeling, perhaps, as if he actually saw the creative hand in the act of sending the planets forth on their everlasting way ; but this philo sopher, solitary seraph, as he may be regarded amidst a myriad of men, knows at such a moment no emotions so divine as those of the spirit becoming conscious that it is beloved—be it the peasant girl in the meadow, or the daughter of the sage, reposing in her father's confidence, or the artizan beside his loom, or the man of letters musing by his fireside. The warrior, about to strike the decisive blow for the liberties of a nation, however impressed with the solemnity of the hour, is not in a state of such lofty resolution as those who, by joining hearts, arc laying their joint hands on the whole wide realm of futurity for their own. The statesman who, in the moment of success, feels that an entire class of social sins and woes is annihilated by his hand, is not conscious of so holy and so intimate a thankfulness as they who are aware that their redemption is come in the presence of a new and sovereign affection. And these are many—they are in all corners of every land. The statesman is the leader of a nation—the warrior is the grace of an age—the philosopher ' is the birth of a thousand years; but the lover—where is he not ? Wherever parents look round upon their children, there he has been—wherever children are at play tsgether, there he will soon be—wherever there are roofs under which men dwell—wherever there is an atmosphere vibrating with human voices, there is the lover, and there is his lofty worship going on, unspeakable, but revealed in the brightness of the eye, the majesty of the presence, and the high temper of the discourse. Men have been ungrateful and perverse ; they have done what they could to counteract, to debase, this most heavenly influence of their life; but the laws of their Maker are I too strong, the benignity of their Father is too patient and fervent, for their opposition to withstand; and true love continues, and will continue, to send up its homage amidst the meditations of every eventide, and the busy hum of noon, and the song of the morning stars. There are both eloquence and energy in t • passage, though the reflections run too much rots rhetoric, and in its latter portions we seem tf hear declamation from a platform. The write who could command that power of strong utterana made a wrong choice in taking Miss Austen as model for a novelist. When Nliss Martineau, " The Hour and the Man," chose another model and used other resources than those employed b , her in "Deerbrook," she had more success• But " Deerbrook " is a very good choke for a series in a "Standard Library of Fiction," as it will mix well with other works, composed in a gayer style, and exhibiting lighter powers of mind. Its gravity, its detailed descriptions, even the narrowness of the circle in which the plot revolves, will have attractions for some who do not like being carried out of "parlour bk." There is not enough of " sub dio " existence in it to justify its description on the titlepage " A Tale of English Country Life -; but w t must also add that those who are prejudiced against Miss Martineau on account of some of her published opinions will find nothing to offend in the pages of " Deerbrook." Guidc.book to Algeria. London . Publl.l],d at the Englishwomans Journal Office. Tins useful and nicely.written little book will be serviceable to either the invalid in search of heith the sportsman in search of game, or the tourist in search of novelty. The sanative properties of the Algerine climate for consumptive or rheumatic patients are vouched for by an imposing array of physicians. Partridges, woodcocks, quails, bustards, snipe, wildfowl, rabbits, and fish, as well as nobler game, in the shape of boars and panthers and my lord" the lion, arc found in great profusion, while the scenery and population arc as novel as pictu• resque to the majority of European travellers. With the following extract from " Hints to English Visitors," we shall have said all that is necessary:— There is a theatre, and many places of amusement; billiards, French reading-rooms, botanic gardens. museums, libraries, &c. There is no good library it English books. No English books are to be obtained in the shops. No good music ; quantities of music, but nothing of Beethoven's or Mendelssohu's. Pianos are hired out as at English watering-places, and at about thaw same price. An English family can obtain cheap in. struction of about the quality obtainable in French toms. Omnibuses abound, which, far a few pence, take pas• sengers into the surrounding villages at all hours of the dk. English ladies can walk alone in the town and envirooi of Algiers with as great comfort and safety as at home. All the French officials, from the Governor of Algiers to the sentries at the gates, are very polite to the English visitors. A single person can live very comfortably to Algiers for twelve pounds a month, including wine, clothe. &c. The high schools for girls and boys are coosiderel good, and are very cheap. There are colleges and agricol tural schools; some are Protestant, but of course the greater part are Catholic. The journey to Algiers is Dot a difficult or an expensive journey. The traveller proceeds from London to Paris in twelve hours, from Paris to Marseilles in twenty hours, and from Marseilles to Algiers in about forty hours. The Messageries Imperisles steno vessels leave Marseilles twice a week for Algiers. Tuesday at noon, and arrive at two p.m. 'filursday at Algiers; and on Saturday at noon, and arrive at two pm. Monday at Algiers. First class fare to klgiers is P 5 frail-- 3/. Ilis. Second class is 71 francs ; living is included in the fare. Agents for the Messsgeries Imperialer are: — Paris : Rue Notre Dame des Victoires, 12t.. Marseille' Rue Mongrand, 33, and Place Royale, 1. London : 'Messrs. Lightly and Simon, 1113, Fenchurch-street. Every tuff motion to be obtained at Liverpool of Messrs. G. kt . Fletcher and Co., and of the agent, Mr. J. E. Puddx.k. 314 a, Oxford-street, London (W.), where berths ms , ! D secured. There are other boats which touch at the ot?er,. important ports of Algeria. The journey costs from 0 : to 121., from London to Algiers ; less of course if the traveller takes the third class, and does not stay at hotel,. With respect to currency, French money is universal] l i t re ic f h e ard rre so d. n f A old th i e t n ci a rc ti u ve la s tin trus ge:en in so it fr The post goes oat and comes in very regularly three um es week ; the postage to and from England is tourls"• e and from France twopence. th s t a e s raedisies'2. The .Struggles of a Villoge Lad. London TireeMe. THE above, which is one of a series of the tempo' ranee publications, is an interesting little tale of re rage merit, and the incidents such as are common'' all story-books of the kind. The writer is so well intentioned that we must wish him as much Succe, in his object as the "village lad" met with io &lb . ) struggles, without expressing any opinion as to the best means of promoting it. London: Printed and Published by AL►nEn lvs, at the 0 1 :e , 110, Strand, iu the Precinct of the Sart - 7, hi the on Saturday, the 30th Jay of October; 16JF. •