The Press.
London, England, 1855-10-06 00:00:00

the Beatrice that Guido met, for this is the Beatrice of the
Barberini.

The critique upon Murillo does justice, and no more,
to his sublime and earnest genius. "The Hanove-
rian Coup d'Etat" is a slight sketch of the history
and political progress of Hanover since the peace of
'l5, and of the defeat of the Liberal party in 1849 by
the Russian clique who, under the Queen (a royal
lady closely connected with the Russian court), rule
the country in Russian interests. The present aspect
of the war inclines the writer to believe in the possi•
bility of the return of the Liberal party once more to
power. The other political paper, upon "The War
and its Opponents," after singing a "Te Deum "
over the fall of Sebastopol—which it declares is
" an achievement hardly to be overrated," for calling
it a "victory is much too limited a phrase "—comes
to the question which every reasonable man asked
himself a year ago—" What next ?" The " integrity "
of Constantinople is no longer the single object of
contention. As we " drifted" into the war, so we
seem likely to drift on, throughout every phase of it,
without a definite object or a fixed policy.

Colburn's New Monthly presents us, as usual,
with a miscellaneous collection of light literature.
We have a closely-written precis of the "Crimea and
its Inhabitants," from the works of Koch and other
travellers, and a similar summary of "Russia and
the Russians," from those of Harrison and Wraxall.
" Crime in the Eighteenth Century " gives us some
curious sketches of the street rows then so common,
and, in particular, one of a society of "rabid young
men about town ":

The Mohawks, who taking their name from a nation of Red
Indians, almost rivalled them in the barbarities they prac-
tised. The president of the club was named " Emperor
of the Mohawks," and the club itself divided into several
classes. each of which took its particular department. One
party would sally forth for the purpose of " Tipping the
Lion," or violently flattening the noses of passengers who
fell in their way, and gouging out their eyes ; another
tribe would give pursuit to some trembling passer-by with
frantic shouts of " A sweal ! a sweal ! " and on overtaking
him, they would form round their prey, and, with the dance
of a set of imps, prick him with their swords till they had
exhausted him. Then there were the " Tumblers," who
devoted themselves especially to the diversion of turning
females upon their heads; and the " Dancing Masters,"
who took their name from their skill in keening their
victim in constant motion by running their swords into his
legs. One tribe delighted in thrusting females into
barrels, and then setting them rolling down hill; another
derived its chief sport from beating and ill-using the watch-
men. In fact, they were the scourge and terror of the
city, and that they might not be inclined to stop at any
atrocity, they made a point of drinking till they were in a
state of perfect frenzy, before they sallied forth.

They fairly frightened Swift out of his evening walks,
and appear to have been a perfect nightmare in his
thoughts. He sends all sorts of stories about them to
Stella.

This reads pretty well for a civilised city but a
century ago. Yet in the brutal assaults upon
women which now daily crowd the police reports
there is not much for us to boast of over our
ancestors. In the " l'auvre petite Chasse" of M.
Louis Viardot will be found a most laughable
review of M. Viardot's single day's shooting in Eng-
land, a full account of which he has thought it
necessary to publish for the benefit of his country-
men. His reflections upon the unhappy servitude
of the English to custom, because he was not
allowed on the Ist of September to kill a pheasant
he sprung, are very amusing. He had been re-
strained ti om firing by a gamekeeper, and his host
explains the reason :
" On the let of September," ho said to me, " we kill
partridges; on the Ist of October, pheasants; and the let
of November% hares: that is the custom,"

.