The Press. — London, England, 1856-05-10 00:00:00

MAY 10, 1856. I D eeded the money, sell the time; so Harry had half the books which came to me; and now . l . have . nothing to im pede ire horn prosecuting the " Brazilian History " straight forward, for which I am . certain of more considerable pro fits than have ever yet fallen to my share. There is a healthy and cheerful tone about all Southey pecuniary transactions which is rdnarkabjy agreeable. Statements like the above, though they may disperse a little of the mystery in which to the eyes of the world literature is enshrouded, are useful in the ex treme as proclaiming a more valuable truth ; for they proclaim that literature, when honestly pursued, may be made a self-sustaining pro fession, without commanding genius or influ ential connections : and they show, too—what is still harder of belief to the respectable classes—that a man may incur pecuniary obligations without losing his self-respect There are minds, no doubt, formed of a harder grain to which the bare idea of an obligation is intolerable ; but Southey, be it remembered, was always as ready to give as to take: and the example of one man who was generous without being unjust, and who borrowed money freely without ever losing a friend, is intrinsi cally more valuable than that of a hundred sell reliant cynics, who would starve in isolated and austere independence. There is a great deal of literary gossip in terspersed through these letters. The Edin burgh and Quarterly Reviews, Longman's Annual !leave, Bailantyne's Annual Register, the Cri tical Review, and the Athenecum, all come in for their share of notice, with the prices they paid per sheet, and the names of their principal contributors ; and when we remember that a man of Southey's genius wrote, as he did in the Annual Review, for seven pounds a sheet, we have reason to congratulate ourselves on the improvement of literature in this respect. Southey was more sensitive than one would expect from such an experienced periodical writer: witness the following in a letter to Mr. King:— I have done with the Athenaum, became Dr. Aikin re je.e.l my articles without either rhyme or reason, to make room for other people's ; and supposing they were dull, I had a better right to be dull than anybody else. But this thing was too pointed for him ; that was too flat ; my learn ing was too old ; my speculations too new : so 1 have retired in dudgeon, and have a drawer full of Outniana ready to despatch for the first magazine that asks for them. A variety of remarks on the political events of the day are scattered through these volumes. Among other wild schemes of the period, Landor had one for making Wellington King of Portugal. Southey gravely opposes this, and wishes to see the whole Peninsula united in a great republican federation,—as if it were not notorious that the Spaniards were the most essentially monarchical of any race in Europe, and requiring little in their princes beyond a decorous solemnity of demeanour and a scrupulous observance of the rites of the Church. We may say in conclusion that, as far as regards Southey himself, those letters leave our opinion as they found it. But the Rev. Mr. Warter we cannot dismiss so easily. We never rememl.er meeting with a book worse edited: its blunders both of commission and omission are inexcusable ; for verbal errors we have never seen its equal. But, worse than nil, he has left in oassages both profane and indecent, which we are confident the poet himself would have been shocked to see in print. On the other hand, many allusions are left unexplained, and blanks unfilled, for which there can now be no good reason left. And secordingly—though, as we have said, it is impossible that two volumes of Southey's letters should not contain much readable and interesting matter—we must that they has.' not found in Mr. Waiter the right man ior giving them to the world. NEW NOVELS. Serena novels have accumulated on our table, mainly because (thoulli not without good points) they were not of a sufficiently striking or original character to demand special notice. Oar review of them must be brief. The Heirs of Bl ac k r id ge M anor (1) i s wr itt en with undoubted talent. Some of the characters are presented with great sharpness of outline, and the ill The Heirs of Blarkridge Mannr. By Diana Butler. Three Tcds. London : Latpl.au and Hall. (2) Elsie Seynvotr; or, the Contrast. By A. \Vygurn. Three vols. Laudon : Newby. (3) lirrninstre. By the Author of 'Lena," tte. Three vols. London: Stnitit and Elder. (4) Mouriee Etrington; or, One out of Snit, with Fortune. Edueti by NVilirul East. Three vols. Loudon: amiLh and Elder. (8) Henry ryte; or, Life and E.rirtence. By Emilia Ilarryatt. Two vols. Loudon: Chapsohm rod Hall. 449 The Life of the Rev. Joseph Beaumont, D.D. By his Son, Joseph Beaumont, Esq. London : Hamilton, Adams, and Co. To the friends of the late Dr. B 1 seems to have had many—and ,to the Wesleyan con nection to which lie belonged, the announcement that this biography is published will be sufficient to direct their attention to it ; while to those who knew him not, it is not likely that any newspaper notice would be likely to recommend it. He appears to have been an eloquent preacher, a most amiable man, and to have fulfilled all the duties of his station i❑ a most zealous and exemplary manner. We are inclined to think, from tho specimens of his oratory published here, and from his letters, that his gifts were those of earnest piety and fluent utterance, with a certain degree of dialectic gracefulness, rather than of original thought, of which we discern few traces. His gifts seem by this memoir to have descended to his son, who has done full justice to the scanty events of his father's life, to his devotion to his sacred calling, and to his excellent character. Dr. Beaumont 'lied in his pulpit, after labouring for forty years in his ministry. His son says his death was " heroic ; " and the phrase is hardly too strong, considering that he persevered in his duties in spite of severe bodily suffering. Apart from this book being the record of the life of a truly good and pious man, it is chiefly noticeable as distinctly exhibiting the decline of Wesleyanism, and as narrating Dr. Beaumont's judi cious conduct during the schism (caused by the arbitrary proceedings of the Conference a few years back) winch seems likely to much further weaken, or altogether break up, the Wesleyan connection. The Island of Cuba. By Alexander Humboldt. Translated from the Spanish by J. S. Thrasher. London: Sampson Low and Co. Mn. THRASHER is an American, and his main object in the publication of this volume seems to be to show how well Cuba thrives under the system of slave labour. Unhappily the contrast he draws be tween the flourishing state of that island and the deplorable decay of Jamaica and our other West India possessions is too true and too forcible to be otherwise met than by an expression of regret. In 1825, when Humboldt wrote, the export of sugar from Cuba was 200,000 boxes; in 1852 it exceeded 1,400,000 boxes. The revenue of the island, which Humboldt estimated at 5,000,000 dollars in 1825, was 16,000,000 dollars in 1852. The clear revenue sent to Madrid, in spite of the enormously expensive establishments in Cuba, amounts to nearly 3,000,000 dollars yearly. The population of Cuba is on .the increase, the black inhabitants multiplying faster than can be accounted for by the importation of slaves. Contrasted with the fast-increasing pro sperity of this noble island, how wretched are the accounts received from Jamaica. The towns are falling into decay ; the rural districts are a desert; the white population is declining, and the blacks relapsing into barbarism; religion is losing ground; schools are tumbling to ruin ; the rite of marriage is falling into disuse. Mr. Thrasher, in his introduc tion and notes, writes with strong American and pro slavery bias ; but the facts of this volume are such as to excite most uneasy feelings in the minds of those persons who anticipated favorable results from the great experiment of slave emancipation. To this time the effect has been to ruin our own West India possessions, and to immensely increase slave cultivations, and its profits, in Cuba and the slave States of South America. Tasso and Leonora. The Commentaries of Ser Pantaleone. By the Author of " Mary Powell." London : Arthur Hall and Co. THE author is famous for constructing pretty histo rical fictions, and this is one of the best of them. The love story of the unfortunate Tasso is brought before the reader with much dramatic effect and archaic propriety. The deception is never offensive, because it does not pass the rules of art, or attempt more than ft picturesque likeness of reality. The chastness of the author's sentiment, and his skill in giving to his chronicles an air of conventional an tiquity, renders his tales pleasing, and may tend to pi omote deeper reading. As a story, the Commen taries of Ser Pantaleone will delight yeting people. To analyse such books would be like picking the plaster from a model to show its superficiality. It is sufficient they answer their purpose, and accom plish pleasing ends by trifling means. ills Introduction to Entomology. By Kirby and Spence. Seventh Edition. London : Longman. WE need only describe the form of this edition, as the work itself has long since been stamped with public approval, and the authors deservedly rank among the most eminent professors of the science to which they devoted themselves. This edition i • adapted for general use. It is a compact, closely printed volume of 600 pages, with an appendix de- A THE PRESS. book abounds with clever passages and descriptions. But against these merits has to be set a story not pleasing, and a somewhat rambling narrative. In parts of the book we recognise a capacity for pictu resque portraiture and dramatic pathos, which, if cul tivated, might lead to excellent results. Take, for example, the chapter oonimencing at page 56, vol. iii., in which the generous innocence of Dolly is so finely contrasted with the high pride of her uncle Jervcdse Widdrington. It is that vein which we strongly advise the writer to follow, both as indicating her strength and pointing to success. Elsie Seymour (2) is a social tale of the present time, partly occupied with scenes of travel (quite natural in our day) and depicting in a quiet manner such scenes and personages as are ordinarily met with in the gatherings of well-to-do social life. The romance of the story is the least effective part of it. The heroine Elsie has probably bten drawn from life. When first introduced to us " her religion was " a philanthropical eclecticism, and she fancied she " saw God in all that was beautiful and good." Her character grows in the course of the story, and her creed advances from a negative to a positive point. We doubt whether the motive of her character is well sustained ; a girt with such high impulses would scarcely have sunk from an attachment like that to which she falls a victim. Montague seems scarcely to have deserved the flutter be caused in female hearts, and his Italian villa in the Surrey hills strikes us as defective in keeping. The lively, wilful Em meline will probably please most readers best. Her character is naturally drawn, and agreeably sustained by her lively sallies. Beyminstre (3) is a really admirable novel, abounding in character, and with plot enough to carry forward the narrative with effect. The earlier portions of the tale, however, descriptive of village life, are the best. The High-Church rector, the in quisitive old maid, the dull county family, and the gossip of the market town, are slt forth with the fidelity of Crabbe's sketches. Regina is a charming heroine, with sentiment, wit, love, high spirits, inno cence, and generosity so mingled in her composition, that she appears less a creation of fiction than one of Nature's own children. The gentleman who is so happy as to win her affections is not deserv ing of his good-fortune. Bertram is not more un worthy of Helena, than this stiff, proud gentleman of the constant, inventive, self-denying Regina. The book may be novel-readArs. with - confidence to all The Adventures of a Gentleman out of Suits with Fortune (4) tailed to arrest our attention. There is power in parts of the book, but it is very deficient in constructive art. It seems to have no other purpose than to relate a series of mishaps, no other way con nected in natural sequence than that they happened to the same individual. A most touching, tender, human story is that of Henry Lyle. (5) The incidents are very simple. A boy of line impulsive nature is left by his father on his deathbed to the care of an only sister. The lady is harsh, surrounded with servile dependants, and treats the boy badly. He escapes from her domina tion, becomes an artist, and marries for love. What more natural than his subsequent troubles, what more in the course of events than that his aunt should leave her money to a stranger ? We will not follow the narrative further ; and indeed an outline would give no adequate idea of the book, as its merit con sists in its pathos, its graceful style, and its highly intelligent reflections. How just is this : Miss Lyle had no knowledge of human nature ; not particle. It is strange how many there are living, with the great book hourly open before their eyes, and every experience of life calling to the study, who never to their lest day learn the universally necessary lesson ; who seem to close their eyes wilfully, and atop their ears, lest obser• vation should make them wise, as if fearing to be made more human, and fitter to live in a natural world. To he really human is to advance far on the road to wisdom and piety; and it is the warm, sympathising, feeling spirit of this book which chiefly distinguishes it. The observant mind is visible throughout. " The " poor always express their sympathy and interest by " making presents." Has this been noticed before ? We think it is rightly said, that an impulsive nature contains within it " the materials of a noble charac ter." The only fault we find with this tale is, that it is too short, and that its texture is scarcely compact enough for fiction. A novel by Mrs. Maberly, in hand, must stand over till next week.