The Press. — London, England, 1858-06-19 00:00:00

584 here would be no more to do than stick up all one's pictures, lower the steps, get s trumpet, and cry, ' Wilk up, ladies and grntlewen !!' " - ♦ ♦ • • • " I should like to go," he said, " with the intention and ohject Wilkie had in view when he set out to the East, but which Wilkie aia not accomplish. The sketches he made were mannered; the heads were like those Wilkie might have sketched at home; sod the groups what he might have done in his London studio. But I should lay asile preconceived notions, and have my mind open to impres sions made on the spot, and thus try to convey faithfully what I saw ; and, in attempting illustrations of the Bible, I would paint very much the manner, and costumes, and features of the present day, adapting these to the subjects of Scripture history." The following is from his Spanish tour:— Landed at Malaga. after imeilleaa delays, at four o'clock. Aud here I am at a Spanish hotel, where not a being knows a word of English, and where English comforts can but be remembered. I have a little box of a whitewashed bedroom, with a brick floor, and a piece of matting in tne middle of it: a very small bed, three hard chairs, and a window opening like folding-doors, and having iron bars outside like a prison, overlooking a courtyard having very tall houses round it; opposite is a smith's forge, and at the side of that there is a well—yes, a public well! It has two faces, with mouths running water ; and all day long all sorts of people come about it. Animals are brougot to drink; and evershifting scenes of the most picturesque character are always going un ; and I, lucky fellow, have a window, neither much too high nor much tit) far away, from which I can leisurely watch and sketch Au enor mous lumbering diligenein, dragged by nine mules, comes rattling in here thrice a week. In short, every variety of costume and character to be seen in Malaga is here, I may say, at my very bedside." He soon resolved to make a picture of " Spanish Gos sips" at this well ; and there they are, with their water pots and pitchers, " indulging," as Ford says, "in the great national joy of doing nothing !" Some, indeed, may be supposed to be making love ; one old man, with a lighted match in his hand, seems unconcerned even about the lighting of his pipe; the smith at the forge is the only earnest one, doing what his hands find to do ; for a very characterstic old donkey-driver is standing over him, by the side of his white, rough-haired animal, the very model of a patient donkey ! It was fortunate, in his isolated position, that lie could thus commence wotk at once. His first difficulty was to procure figures to sit to him. In this his landlord kindly assisted him, but his patience and temper were sorely tried by their irregularity and caprice:— " Bth Nov.—Got Matias to send an old water-carrier to me—a withered old fellow, full of character ;in spite of the bad light, I rubbed in both hoe and figure. " 9th.—Another watermin came at. three, but, to my horror, he was nicely dressed in a new black coat and velvet hat !" . . . Another ragged fellow, with leather gaiters, disappointed him :—.` Felt very much mortifies( and astonished, fur to-day he was to Ot an extra dollar. The reason was this: they had all gone somewhere to get soup, and theme, by order of the police, they were shut np and examined. Knives were found on some, pistols on others, and some had money. A disturbance was dreaded, so they were all shipped oil' to a distance next morning. My model was among them. I have been thinking of bringing an action againrt the police !" Gibson left behind him a number of poems and fugitive verses, specimens of which are given. They show some taste, and a faculty of imitation of greater models, but do not rise above an ave rage standard. We have felt it our duty to speak severely of this book, for though it is not individually of rat importance, it belongs to a class which is increasing every day, and which, in the interests alike of religion and literature, we most earnestly desire to discourage. Those who undertake such biographies must be reminded that, for so ex tremely delicate and difficult a task, something more is wanted than the possession of papers and other materials (these, too, often insufficient ones), and of a ceitain set of theological opinions. We demand some power of' style, some amount of insight, and some consideration for the subject of the memoir—in all which characteristics the present volume is lamentably deficient. William Me conqueror. An Historical Romance. By General Sir Charles Napier, G.C.13. Edited by Lieutenant-General Sir William Napier, K.C.B. London : Routledge. WE cannot, we think, do better than preface our notice of this singular production with the tbl lowing extract from the editor's life of his celebrated brother:— Bat hi:; principal work was an historical romance, sug gested during his resilience at Caen by the many vel,dities of William the Conqueror in that country. The manu script of this work has strlngely disappeared ; certainly it was never destroyed by him, yet has been vainly sought for since his death. Entitled " Harold," it was offered to Mr. Colburn for publication, and with the author's name would have been purchased, but Char:es Napier would not secede to that condition, and demanded hack his MS. Mr. Colburn was, hosever, so tenacious of it that only by a vigorous correspondence and many months' delay could it be recovered. THE PRESS, JUNE 19, 1858. Years afterwards, when Charles Napier was in India, Sir Bulwer Lytton's romance of the same title appeared, with several remarkable resemblances to the manuscript work—such as the introduction of Harold's warrant against the Welsh ; of a knight who plays a conspicuous part, though in a different way, from one of the same name in Napier's romance ; a peculiar trial of skill between Wil liam and Harold in the play of their distinctive weapons, the spear and the longbow ; lastly, and most curiously, the creation of a liallmad, half-supernatural prophetess, called in both works the " Vale," who is related to Harold and watches over his fortunes. The stories are indeed differently constructed ; but it is no partial cr.ticism to say that, if the lost manuscript shall be ever recovered for publication, it will be foun I in racy, biting dialogue, in variety of incidents, and in fiery poetic description, as far above what may be called its rival as that rival is below its author's best productions; and not the least so in the creation of the " Vela." But the soldier described heroic adventure, with the like of which he had been familiar in early lite, and foreshadowed scenes of sanguinary battle, conquest, and government, which he realized afterwards as conqueror and ruler ; scenes which Sir Bulwcr could only guess at. - - - - The MS. has now been recovered, and published by Mr. Routledge, but, as perhaps many of our readers will be prepared to hear, adds but little to the deceased general's reputation. By the side of Sir Bulwer Lytton's novel on the same subject, it may be compared to a strong untutored clown, in competition with the trained athlete. There is a certain rude power in the work here and there, but in plot, dialogue, and delineation of character it breaks down completely. The story is crowded with characters which do not affect its issue, and is overloaded with scenes of violence after the style of Mr. Pierce Egan. The dia logue, so far from being " racy " or " biting," is dull and stilted ; the characters are either stiff or spasmodic ; and the dramatic effects are of the very weakest kind. The story is supposed to be dictated to his amanuensis - by a centenarian Norman noble who had been a leading actor in the Conquest ; and the old gentleman's language is just what we should expect to hear from a similar character at the Victoria Theatre. The main outline of the story is certainly much the same as Sir Bulwer Lytton's; but if the latter right hon. author did take any of his incidents therefrom, it is the only claim to the gratitude of the public which Sir Charles can put forward. To have suggested " llarold " may entitle him to forgiveness for having written " William the Conqueror." The only point of the plot on which the two writers differ is that Sir Charles makes Editha, the heroine, become Harold's wife, whereas Sir Bulwer Lytton represents the Saxon Prince as swayed from his first love by considerations of policy, and espousing the daughter of a powerful Saxon family. The character of the Vala, or sorceress, is differently handled by the two. In the present story she resembles Norna of the Fitful Head in Sir Walter Scott's " Pirate ;" while in " Harold" she is a more refined and accessible, though not less majestic personage. Sir Charles's description of the Vala is one of those passages which we shall perhaps do him the truest justice by quoting:— She was of an extraordinary and commanding stature, large of bone and meagre, but of an upright portly presence; her face was fair, of a reddish hue and freckled; her features regular, but of a severity nimr latching ferocity; her eyes were grey, almost blue, small, but when fixed— and they moved not with that , frequent and unsteady quickness which is so often noticed in such strange and observant people—the eyeballs stood out and showed the white all round. Her tine brow was broad, high and prominent, but deeply wrinkled horizontally ; her nose was aquiline anal sharp upon the ridge; her thin lips compressed, marking habitual ill temper anal violence of disposition. Her voice, unharmonious, was deliberate and oracular; tuipleasing, but emphatic, absorbing the attention, She seemed one whose sex was more desig nated by her attire than by nature, which had so fashioned her, that whstever garb she donned she might pass for male or female accordingly. Her dress was as striking as her appearance. A light blue tunic descended below her knees; the cape, buttoned round her throat, was studded with globes of glass, and on each glass were cut mystical charectera. A band of black sheepskin, lined and edged with that of a white cat, confined her thick and long silvery hair, which fell like an avalanche down her 'wick and over each shoulder. From her rine, which was a large serpent's *.kin studded with precious stones all marked with cabalistic signs, was suspended a large bag containing her instruments of magic. Her sandals were of iintanned calfskin, tied with long thongs, which were again fastened whit buckles of bright steel. She held a wand, hung with many charms, and at the end of it was a globe lammed of a human skull set iu a cup of crystal. Are you ready to depart, friend ? " said the Vale. Yes," replied Alfnotla. " Then will I call my enardg : fear not, gentle damsel, they will not harm ye. Ho! Vafthrudner!" A deep luw back from a dog within answered. " Ho! Gangrader !" And again the answer was similar growl. _ Thtm the small door of the tower opened, and forth stalked Vafthrudner and Gangrader, in all the majesty of canine dignity. They were heavy-looking animals, of er.ormous size, such as are seen in the Alps; but these seemed more dente. Their paws were white, their r o u e a reddish ground with dark spots, and their flat, broad heads were more like tigers than lions'. First they licked the feet and hands of the Vats, and then walked with slow and stately steps round the strangers, smelling each, and as it were making acquaintance. The Vela .- na' ouined the palfrey and flung the reins over its head to the dogs, who took them in their mouths and walked before, leading the horse. Thus they reached the castle, and the Vela retired to her chamber with the animals, having first ordered a peculiar dish to be prepared for het. self at supper. At the end of the great eating-Nom, on a raised platform, the repast was soon placed, and Alfnoth gently tapped at the door of the . prophetess. " I come," she said, and straightway appearing was, by the Childe, led to the supper room. her dogs following close. On retching the plat form she ordered the chair placed f'r her to be removed, and herself set down a tripod carried in the month of one of her dogs ; the legi were of bone, the seat was the skin of an ancient Briton, killed by one of her ancestors in light. . Eating in presence of the assembled household, all gazin-.; at her in silence, she slowly oonsuitied her prepared dish. Having finished, she took a crystal bowl tilled with god's milk and rose up to bless the house, b it :mover urned the tripod. Pale, deathly pale, then became her face, and she dropped the bowl, which shivered to pieces. Harold replaced the tripod, but the Vaht trembled violently, and all but the Saxon chief stood aghast. " Danger! danger approaches," she said in deep terri fied tone. " Give me mead!" A bowl was present, dby Alfnoth, while Editha fervently kissed a small crucifix. " That avails not ! that avails not !" cried the Vela; " Virgin with the neck of a swan ! Virgin with the braided golden hair! that avails not ! The power of the blotto' L ike prevails over my god and thine . This night I aid look no farther into fate, nor seek the will of Odin." Then drinking the mead, sho drew forth a pencil and a bit of parchment, wrote some words, and called " Vat/auditor ! Gangrader !" Their hugh he ids were instantly raised in expect 'don. " Hie thee good dogs! Hie thee swift with this to Alvise the dwarf, and return as swiftly—bat stop! Give meat to my messengers, they have much to de." Rapidly the dogs devoured what was brought, and the Vela, who had been sitting with eyes oil vacancy, tied the parchment to Vaftlirmlner's collar, pointed to the door, and in a low voice said, " Begone!' Both dogs rushed out. " Lower the drawbridge, Harding," cried Alfnoth. " Let your drawbridge remain up ; who or what shall stop the charmed messengers of the Vida in their course !" and Frica frowned. . . The noble dogs sprang from an of en casement into the Jeep moat beneath, and swimming across were far on their way in a few moments. The people of the castle now retied to res', more or less affected by the untoward events tit he night as they were given to belief in the Vala's incantations. As the warden looked from the tower next morning at dawn, he stw the two dogs descending the bills, carrying a heavy box which they alternately took front each other. The drawliridge was lowered, and they went straight to Frica's chamber, which was opened to them. " Good dogs !" said she, kissing the head of each, "ye are sorely spent. Let them be fed quickly, for their guetdon has been hardly earned." When meat and drink came, she mixed a powder with the one and a liquor with the other, and immediately the animals seemed as fresh as if they had not quitted the castle. " Now sleep varlets!" sail she, and the dogs lay down in a corner. " Hah! we will invoke Odin," muttered the Vela. "Let none disturb me for some hot rs." At an hour before midnight a terrific explosion shook Itodiam Castle to its fon luau, ns, N I d terror fell upon an. A rush to the V ila's d 'or et sae!, but they found her standing with great composut . The battle scenes in " William the Conqueror' are not, on the whole, as good as we should have anticipated. But here is a little touch from the battle of Hastings, so good that we wonder the rest are not better : Then tierce and wild raged the encounter below, man and horse rolled over man and horse, clouds of dust en veloped the battling hosts, and through its pordery reit coruscations of light glanced from armour and arms, gleam• big and sparkling in the confused •asses. The disci plined Norman cavalry pressed the 4:isordered Sasons, till compressed by danger they closed, and shoulder to shoulder rmined a harrier of shields against the charging cavalry : thns the remains of the native army at last re gained the hill—but liurth and Sweyne bad fallen. There is really nothing more to be said about "William the Conqueror." No doubt there is a general character about it which stamps it as the failure of an able man, but the failure is so absolute that criticism becomes superfluous. Serntous. By the Rev. John Cairns, Minister of the Park Church, Glasgow. London : Blackwoods. WE opened this volume with some degree of unwillingness and fear. Arguing from the l!ti !hoes well-known and popular sermon, "R that m Common Life," we felt some expectation