The Press. — London, England, 1857-04-25 00:00:00

414 " Seeing a Mau Hanged," " The Bal Masque," "Up the Haymarket," "Judge and Jury Clubs," " The Cyder Cellars," " The Sporting Public-house," " The Cave of Harmony.' Along with these chapters are interspersed some of a more promising kind, in which we are introduced to " Discussion clubs," " The Music hall, Hungerfold-market," " Boxing Night," &c. &c. We can easily imagine the disgust which a refined person would feel at being taken into some even of the more favourable resorts which the author of this volume only too faithfully describes. " The Music hall, fungerford•market," for example, would show an enormous room full of tradesmen and mechanics, and their wives, seated round tables, and indulging in drink, while listening to public singers of fifth-rate pretensions squalling through the songs of the day. It is, certainly, one of the most innocent places of resort described in the volume, and it may be doubted whether the author of this work understands the philosophy of his subject. The morality of this volume is only that of a teetotaller, and the love of &irk is the " spirit of evil " most vehemently anathema tised in its pages. Of some of the various places of resort described in this book we shall say nothing, as we think that they should be put down by more trenchant means than a moralising writer can apply to them. The other places, like " Canterbury-hall" and some more, show the jaded, wearied, and ex hausted shopkeepers going anywhere for some relaxation. The society in such places is coarse and gross ; but the amusements were not intended for the rich and refine.l. Its tone does not differ from that of the crowds of wearied tradespeople who may be seen along our suburban roads, seated near some large public-houses, with long pipes and large pots of beer. There they sit for hours, im bibing smoke and stout, their helpmates and daughters appearing to enjoy the scene as much as the rest. Where is the pleasure, or the amusement, or the joy in such scenes? The answer must be given with candour, and without cant. The pleasure of those trades folk is in rest, in doing nothing after working hard fur the whole week, and in not having their ears stunned and their heads aching with the whirring of machinery or the clatter and worry of hurry-scurry business. Life in England is a serious struggle, and the over work of all our labouring classes (in which we include the professional toilers) is ex hausting. Even in the strongest men the call upon the nervous system is incessant ; and the figures which the diseases classified under " neuralgia" run up in the bills of mor tality, are evidences of the straining nature of toil in England. We must recollect, also, that the air is deprived of its natural oxygen, and that stimulants aro craved by the jaded and depressed. These considerations do not justify intemperance, but they go far to ac count for the sort of coarse and vulgar pleasure sought after by the beer-loving portions of the community. We do not, therefule, think that teetotalism is the cure for the grossness which takes pleasure in the public-house. If this volume was composed with any bad motives, it should not be mentioned by na.ne in our columns. We notice it fur the reprehension of the erroneous school of humanity to which it belongs. We are wearied of these books, declaiming about virtue and philanthropy in every tenth page, while the nine preceding pages have been filled with repulsive details. Even if written with the best intentions, such books can do no good. Those who are moral and well conducted do not want to be told of such places as are here advertised by the author of " The London Pulpit "; and those who are coarse and gross enough to frequent them will not be converted by a volume like the present. Like its matter, the style of the volume is unpleasing ; and, allowing the author credit for his intentions, WO think that he should be more careful in the choice of the next subject on which the sketcher• of "The London Pulpit" may seek to employ his pen. RE PRINTS. THERE are vary few writers whose style is suffi ciently peculiar, or whose subjects or modes of THE PRESS. treatment are sufficiently novel, to prevent their literary rank being tolerably well determined alter the issue of one or two volumes. Occasionally a new school of writers will arise whose merits steal very slowly upon the public mind, and whose ad mirers will naturally take every opportunity of urging their claims upon the world. No one of the writers whose works now lie before us, however excellent, can be brought under this description ; and in their ease, accordingly, the cheap issue of their stories can only be taken as the natural con firmation of that approval which was passed on them at their first appearance. Mr. Lever may be said to have taken the public by storm with his dashing Irish stories of " Charles O'Malley," "Jack Hinton," and " Harry Lorrequer." They rose at once into first-class popularity as tales of fun and adventure. The exaggerated style of in cident in which they abound, though slightly grazed by the good-humoured satire of the " Prize Novelist'," has not proved any serious drawback. The Ireland of fifty years ago is looked upon as a wild country of perpetual romance and wonders, and stories that would be laughed down, if told of Leicestershire and Kent, have not seemed to violate probability when the scene was Tipperary or Galway. Ireland was privileged ; she was allowed ungrudgingly to be the fertile mother of ludicrous blunders, dashing ex ploits, immense intcxication, and constant duelling. Drawing largely upon his credit, Mr. Lever pranced a series of stories which will probably long maintain their eminence, and in his own walk he may be declared without a rival. He has also claims to be considered an historical novelist. Old Irish manners have wellnigh passed away. The polite and scholarly old priest from Salamanca, or St. Omers, has given place to the coarser alumni of Maynooth. The Encumbered Estates Court has made havoc with the claret loving, fox•hunting squires; and the famine has, alas, decimated " the " finest peasantry in the world." If Ireland has become a wiser country, it has undoubtedly become a sadder one. Mr. Laver can well afford to rest upon his laurels. With the exception of the one inimitable story of Captain Blake—perhaps the best of its class, and in humour superior to Lever's—no other novel of Irish life can be put in comparison with his own. And we are very glad to see our old friends reappearing in this cheap and accessible form. We have so lately had occasion to review Mr. Reade at some length, that it will be the less neces sary to dwell upon his Peculiarities at present. We said, in our notice of " Never Too Late to Mend," that Mr. Reade had fallen short of the promise given by his former works ; and certainly, on the re perusal of "Christie Johnson," we find that opinion corroborated. In this short story there is a wonder ful concentration of power and pathos. Lord Ipsden's interview with Jess Rutherford is masterly. But these great beauties are disfigured by great in equalities. Mr. Reade's mannerisms are most pro minent and offensive, and he is deficient in the art of connection, the callida junctura, which the novel requires even more rigidly than the drama. "Christie Johnson" is but a series of disconnected scenes. But the shortness of the whole prevents our feeling this defect as keenly as in a tale of the same length as his last. Of " Peg Wotfington " much the same may be said. In both stories the author is perpetually summing up his incidents, and, in the expressive language of street-boys, " reckoning up " his characters. This is troublesome land tedious. But " Peg Woffington " shares the merit of being written with that sprightly energy and reality of por traiture which constitutes the charm and accounts for the popularity of all Mr. Reade's writings. The scene in which the heroine personates Mrs. Brace girdle is a triumph of skill. Of "John Halifax" we can only say we are un feignedly glad that it should be one of the works chosen for cheap reissue. It is one of the noblest stories among modern works of fiction. Its defects, perhaps, consist in a slight over delicacy of senti ment, and a somewhat too censorious tone towards the aristocracy. But these are very minute faults. The interest of the story is enthralling, the charac ters admirably sustained, and the moral excellent. Of Mr. Hodgson's series of " Household Novels," of which five appear to have been published, we have only at present received three. Margaret Catchpole is now a household word. We have reperused her strange story with as much interest as ever, and its reappearance in this shape cannot fail of being _ _ highly r acceptable to the putdic. Of Mr. G. P. James and Captain Mayne Reid we cannot hope to say anything fresh. The former gent!ernan may well rest content with his extensive popularity. Nor are we of that class who profess to be unable to admire his style of fiction. Some of his earlier novels are decidedly superior to much of that litera ture which obtains extensive circulation at present, and there is a tone of purity and refinement about all that he writes which well fits his works to form part of a series like the present, which, we are told, is intended to aid in " carrying out the views of " those distinguished men who have lately addressed SATURDAY, " large numbers on the subject of education." w e know of nothing in "Arrah Neil " which calls for separate notice. If boys' books are very difficult to write, one who has succeeded in pleasing them so well as the author of " Rifle Rangers " deserves all encouragement. We heartily commend Mr. Hodgson's choice in selecting his works, and feel sure that the diffusion of this class of literature will do much to purify and elevate the tastes of the lower orders. PUBLICATIONS RECEIVED.—Apnth O. BOOKS. Russia after the War. By Selina Banbury. 2 vols. Hurst and Blacken. John Halifax, Gentleman. By the Author of " The Heed of the Family," &c. Hurst and Blackett. The Roue Pass ; or, Englishmen in the Highlands. By Erick Mackenzie, 3 vols. Smith and Elder. Poems. By Mrs. F. P. Fellows. Smith and /Oder. Systematic Philosophy. Smith and Elder. Stories and Sketches. By James Ryan. Smith and Elder. The Last Judgment. A Poem. Longman and Co. The Nature and Purpose of God as Revealed in the Apocalypse. Glenwood a}fanor•House• A Novel. By Esther Bakewell. Hall and Virtue. The Abbey, and other Poems. By T. N. Beasley. J. Madden. Toot Brown's Schooldays. By An Old Boy. Mactuillau and Co. The Fortunes of Glencore. By Charles Lever. 3 vols. Chapman and Hall. A Genealogical and Heraldic Dictionary of the Landed Gentry of Greid Britain and Ireland. By Sir Bernard Burke. Hurst ana Blaokett. ,Vusir. HER MAJESTY'S THEATRE. AFTER three performances of Donizetti'a Favorite, in which Mlle. Spezia rather gained ground, and Signor Giuglini certainly lost none, La Figlia del Reggirnento was presented for the first appearances this season of Mlle. Piccolomini and Signor Belletti, and the debut of a new tenor, Signor Bottardi. The latter is very unlikely to maintain his position as a supplement to Giuglini. Belletti is an admirable singer, but he is not an animated actor, or he would take a much higher position. On Thursday Verdi's Traviata was revived for Piccolomini and Giuglini, and it was they pretty clearly manifested that the speciality of this season will be concentrated in these two newcomers. Mlle. Ortolani, who appears next Tuesday in Puritani, with Giuglini, will not disturb Piccolomini's popularity, nor seriously affect what prestige Spezia may gain. The director's last card, and as a vocalist incom parably his best, will be A lboni, but it is very unlikely this charming contralto and quasi soprano will interfere with the piquant Piccolomini's attraction. It will be the tactics of the manager, consequently, to introduce the latter and her new colleague Giuglini in as many works as possible. Verdi's Traviata has had its main run, and the curiosity is to know what will be Piccolomini's new assumptions. In respect to Giuglini, there is little room for speculation. His success may be more or less in each part he undertakes, but his honours are gained; he will be accepted without qualification as a most charming tenor, who in any opera must com mand the sympathies of his hearers. There is no danger in predicting his career—" once an artist always an artist." Piccolomini's position is certainly precarious, for she has not yet mastered the first principles of singing, and we do not believe that any lyric artiste can have a permanent bold on the public who possesses only histrionic gifts. She stands on a stage on which a lofty standard of musical excellence has been raised. As yet she has relied on spon taneity and naturalness ; but these qualities will not enable her to run a scale correctly, to attack the notes with unerring intonation, and to phrase artistically. That Piccolomini may not have ulti mate reason to regret that she was prematurely brought out, must be the sincere wish of all lovers of art ; and her best friends and advisers will be found amongst those who urge her to pursue her stulics with as-iduity, and not to accept the actual homage as one that will be enduring if her attributes remain stationer). ROYAL ITALIAN OPERA. GRISt'S wondrous creation of a new part as Leonora in Verdi's Trovatore is the talk of the town. It is really something wonderful that in the autumn, as it were, of her artistic career she should be enabled to display the spring quality of her marvellous organ. But such was the case on Thursday night; and amongst professors and amateurs, who had heard her in Paris and London, in her first season, the remark was universal that the voice in volume and resonance was as fresh and ,juvenile a 3 in the year