The Press.
London, England, 1853-10-01 00:00:00

THE PRESS.

and all are mistaken. Soun•, who bear your character,
give it to the Rockingham, ; 1 a policy I do not under-
stand ) and Mr. Itonite denies it, au. he would a fact.
which be wished to have believed.

It nuty be proper to assure yott that no man tiling
knows or even suspects the author. I have no comiretiOU
with any par”, except at voluntary attachment to yowl
rattle and l'ersini. it &gam with 4111111.i.linlitt gr, if into
habit, wax by a ,loser allentinn h, your Ileineigee
I' I ' IMet, and nut.' healed litho I',, u,,, The Beano
I'ouneil UliM • A' I may say, with truth, alumxt rs• Pry•
thing that for loco year( pad, has ottraeled the (Mention oj
ll lott•lick. I ani conscious these papers have been very
unequal ; hut you will be candid enough to Inake allow-
Mires for a titan, who *rites absolutely llithollt Inuterials
or instruetion. For want of hints id this kind. I fear 1
freipwittly mistake your views, as well as the true point.
whereon von would choose to rest the qui snow., in a hid)
your name is coneerated. lint this is an inconvenienei
a itlasitt al resucily. I moist continue to argue fur yl.n.
US I 1//.11111 My•elf. in the Nino. circumstances as tat
as I meiler-timil mill you are 31iiiister. 1 must
not Inygrir to think of the honour of being known
to you. When that happens. von will not tiud me a
needy Or al I Ito )1111. I ependant. In the mean time,
I must 1un.'515 Myself %%jilt reflecting that, resisting
every temptation of vanity, e‘en the great desire I have
of being ho with yaw notice. I give you some assur-
ance, 111111 yea may depend upon nay firmness null fidelity

As literary rumours have reached us from
various quarters that fresh controversialists
are taking up the examination of this; CilliOUS
historical problem, we will defer our remarks
on " the Lyttelton theory." In the meanwhile,
for the convenience of our readers, and for the
purposes of future reference, we have ex
trotted the three foregoing.l twins letters from
the " Grenville Papers," and we conclude for
the present by observing that the writings of
the masked scribe must still continue to be
published with their appropriate epigraph—
" Sint innsimis 'nohow.-

eitrbstie Johnshme. A Novel. By Charles
Heade, EN. London : Bentley.
DacsnEN china has long had its admirers,
though we cannot say that we have much fiutey
for it (ourselves. Sparingly mingled with other
articles of rids, it giVes passing pleasure to
the eye. There is a lackadaisical mockery of
the natund about its shepherds and shepherd.
CSSes flint. is diverting; and even grave philo-
sophers might allow their muscles to relax into
a smile at peasants petticoats spangled over
with brilliant ornaments. while courtly Cory-
dons pick their steps daintily through such
limbistie verdure as blooms only in a porcelain
climate. The quizzical, grotesque design is a
great part of the merit of this kind of ware, and
the bizarrcrie produced by the prodigal variety
Of golden tints and agnauuu ine blues is another
of its perfections. Last of all conics the se-
dulous care with which these pretty little
pieces of timeiful nutuntacture have lapn—

• Christie Johnstone " belongs t 4) the Dres-
den-china class of fiction. and is one of the
best specimens of the kind we ever suet. It is
sparkling. curious. and showy, but it is also
whimsically fitutastie and unreal. It glitter,
with literary talent, especially in pictorial of
frets condensed in paragraphs. and odd rs.
marks skilfully decked as novelties ; and the
author is certainly au adept in giving trifles as
value by the cunning application of a peculiar
style of nit. When, however, we are
vaned on to say that he has inspiration—that
he is a genius of a new kind. and so forth—we
must demur. Ile has careffilly studied their
trieal rules, and we have not the least doubt
but that lw is calculated to succeed as a writer
for the stage. lie has What actors COI " the
I'ollllllllnd of situation " and the knowledge of
" etreet " neeessary for that department of let-
ters. Ills bustling plot. his unexpected inci-
dews. the clever alternation of his dramatis
iperstintr, and his elaborated •• points;' all tell of
a trained dramatic writer.

Lord Ipsden is die double of Pqr ('harks
Komy in U4Ol Up. and his situation meals to
us the " L'Entitti" of Miss Edgeworth. After
roaming through Ellrlipe. he tries to persuade
lady Barbara Sinclair to marry him. Lady
Barbara is a t'arlylian, delights in " earnest "
people, and seeks for lovers of moral energy.
The authorlivotessing his inability to describe
her, tells Its that " Lady Barbara was exactly
like Mademoiselle Itrohan playing the part of
.IhulemfoiseM. Ise Seylit;re." Inconsolable at being
refused. Lord Ipsden sib hs. wastes, and gets
thin. He does not know that he is ill, but his

SATURDAY,

valet, Saunders, calls in Dr. Aberford, intended
as a portrait (by way of novelty !I of the late
Doctor Abernethy. A pre•eription is given—
•` Make acquaintance with all the people of low
estate who have time to be bothered with you :
learn their ways. their minds, and, above all,
their troubles." Lord Ipsdon sails in his yacht
for Newhaven, and, arrived there, he thus con-
verses with his valet :

" Saunders ! do you know that I Ir. Abetforti means by
the lower classes?"

" Perfectly. wy lord.•'
Are thcic any about here ? '
I am sorry to say they are everywhere, my lord."
tiet nie some"--(cigarelle).
Out went Saunders. with his ustril gracefttl empre+tee•
moil, but an internal shrug of his shoulders.
He was absent an hour and a half; he then returned
with a double exiiression on his face. Pride at his success
in diving to I lie very bottom of society, and contempt of
what he hind bated up thence.
fle approached his lord myyte►ions!y, and said, iota
roe, but impressively, '' This is low enough, my lor.'
Then glided back, and ushered in, with polite disdain.
two lowlier women than he had e‘er opened u door• to in
the whole course of his perfumed existenee.

These two fishwives are then put in the
most graceful eostumes by the author, with a
lavish display of his " properties." and their
natural attractions are thus enlarged upon :

Of these young women, one had an olive complexion,
with the red blood mantling under it, and black hair, and
glorious Muck e.%eltrows.
The other was lair, with a massive but shapely throat,
as white as milk : glossy brown hair, the loose threads of
which glittered like gold, and a blue eye. which, being con.
trasted with dark eyebrows and law-hes, took the luminous
etleet peculiar to that rare beauty.
Their short petticoats Tevealtsl n neat ankle and a leg
with a noble swell ; for Nature, w hen she is in earnest,
builds beauty on the ideas of ancient. sculptors and poets,
not of modern itoettisters, who, with their airylike sylphs
and their smokt,like verses, tight for want of flesh in wo-
man tool want of fact in poetry as parallel beautivs.
Thrm tree, my

These %%nitwit had a grand corporeal trait; they had
never k it a corset ! they were straight as javelins :
they emthl lift their bands above their heads !—aetnally
Their supple persons moved as Natum intended; every
gesture was ease, grace, and freedom.
What with their own radiance, anti the snowy cleanli-
ness and brightness of their costume, they came like
meteors into the apatiment.

Christie Johnstone is the fair beauty of the
foregoing pair of Dresden-china herring.
women, " who came like meteors into the
" apartment," with " their snowy cleanliness
• of costume." (How like a pair of Newhaven
paissailles!) With these porcelain fishwives
my Lord Ipsden is as much pleased as his
grandmother might have been with any of the
favourite "monsters" in her china closet. The
reader probably suspects that the author in-
tends to conclude with making Christie a
peeress ; but he is satisfied by making her a
heroine of the Grace Darling pattern. There
is one Charles (fatty, a young artist of extra-
ordinal"' genius, who is smitten with love of
Christie Johnstone ; but the respectable mother
of Gatty ji/s will not hear of a misalliance for
her son with a fishwife : and Gatty gets
gloomy, and the despairing lovers are to be
parted : but the mother must be made discon-
solate by the sight of seeing her son drowning
in the ocean ; and great excitement is to be
got up by Christie Johnstone, in her fishing-
boat. saving her lover from being food for
the fishes, dating a fearful crisis of twenty
pages long : and thus Gatty tme;re is reconciled
to the marriage; and my bad Ipsden, having
recovered his health and spirits, succeeds in
fascinating Lady Barbara, and all winds up
happily'
Such a plot is of course very extravagant :
but the volume must be read for its style,
with its vivacity and occasional passages of
characters" are so many
conceits on two legs, but the authoroften puts
good smart things in their mouths, similar to
those in the witty dialogues in the first act of
llasks and /area, of which he was one of the
writers. Thus Lord Ipsden is made to cut at
one of the nearly past absurdities of the
day:—

The 111'‘I time tilt `y Met T. 014 111,411'11 LAS', 11111'
hunt occupied u Is gentleman. u hose first sentence pr-
claimed him a pupil Mr. Thomus Carlyle, and he hittl
the mollification to find that she had neither an ear nor
an rye fiqr

Human optuitsii has so many shades, that it is me to
find two people Ilgree.

Itut two et‘oph:'tudy ngrce womleifttll, if they will
let a thini think for them both.
Thal it was that these two ran so smoothly in couples.
Antiquity, they agtvell, was the time whets the worhl

OCTOBER 1, 1853.

WAS old, its hair grey, its head wise. Every one that said,
" Lord, Lord :" two hundred yeouso ago, ass a Chtistian.
Them were no earliest men now ; Williams, the missionarv,
who lived mad died for the tiospel, was not earnest itt reli•
ghat ; but Cromwell, who packed a jury. and sea munlered
his prisoner.--Croutwell, iu whose mouth was heaven, anti
in his heart tempund sovereignty, was the pattern of ear-
nest religion, or. at all events. second ill siueetity to Ma-
hornet alone, in the abst•nee of details respecting
0: whom wt. kll • only that his mouth is a seripttur eon-
rordatiee, and his hands the hands of Mr. Carlyle's saints.
Then they went hack n century or two. and were eloquent
about the great antique heart, and the beauty of an age
whose samples were Abbot Sampson total Joan of Are.
Lord Ipsden hatted argument, but jealousy is a brass
spur: it mule even this Mall fluent fiat met..
Ile suggested " That tire hundred years added to a
world's life made it just live hundred yeti's; older. not
younger. and if older, greyer,--and if greyer, wiser.•'
of Abbot Sampson," said he. " whom 1 confess both
a great and a good man, his author, who with all his talent
belongs to the class muddle-head, tells us, that when he
had been two years in authotity his red hour had turned
grey, fighting against the spirit of his age : how the dents.,
tarn, could he be a sample of the spirit of his 'lgo.?

" Joan of A►e W 11.4 burnt by aoelann►tion of her use, a►ul
is admired by our age; which fact identities an age most
with a heroine, no gibe her• your heart, or to gi% 4! her u
blazing faggot and death
" Abbot Sampson and .luau of Are," concluded he,
" prove no more, in favour of their age, and nu Ices against
it, than Lot does for or against Sodom. Lot wan in Sodom,
but not of it ; and No were Sampson and .loan in, hot nut
the vilbmous times they lived in.

" It' the phrase ' earnest man' means man ' 'toning
the beasts that an. 'leaf to reason, it is to be hoped that
civilisation and Christianity will really extinguish the
whole race for the benefit of the earth."
Lord Ipsden succeeded in aumoying the fair theorist, but
not iu convincing her.
The mediaeval enthusiasts looked On him as some rough
animal that had burst into sacred grounds unconscious!),
and gradually edged away from hint.
Agreeable acting eau make dramatic trifles
successful, and confer a playbill immortality
On two-act pieces made up of point, badinage,
absurd situations, and good scenery. But the
novelist and theatrical manager must eater by
different means of success, though this witty
and sparkling writer seems to think that, be-
cause novels have been dramatised. therefore
vandevillen may be printed in volumes. But
the mannerism of " Peg Woffington" and
"Christie Johnstone " is sure to pall upon the
reader, when we have not finished comedians
like Mrs. Stirling and Mr. Leigh Murray to
realise to our bodily sight those "characters "
which the author has failed to portray to " the
mind's eye." If there he exhibited truth of
nature in a work of fiction, we can allow for
extravagant incidents ; but how can our pas-
sions be moved by the contemplation of a
" Christie Johnstone "—a fascinating fishwife,
shining, " like a meteor," with her " snowy
" cleanliness of costume," with the courage
and presence of mind of at Nelson in petti-
coats, and with every womanly virtue ? All
heroines arc entitled by prescription to a full
measure of stereotyped perfections ; but our
great English novelists or dramatists have not
taught us to look fin• Belvidere at Billing,;gate.
or Diana. Vernon at Hungerford Market crying
"Yarmouth bloaters." This Newhaven herring-
dealer is (as already intimated) a crockery
" monster," brilliant at a superficial glance,
but a most brittle china toy, falling to pieces
at the first touches of criticism.

A Sanamer's-Day Dream, and other Poems. By

H F. Robinson. London : Pickering.
The Crook and the Sword. awl other Poems. By
F. Fitzhugh. London : Johnstone and

Hunter.
POETRY may be smooth, and even agreeable,
yet very bad. No skill in numbers will ever
render insipidity and conventionalism tolera-
ble. Its worth may be not unfairly judged by
determining what 'tuition of it is peculiar to
the mind of the author. If his ideas lime
frequently found expression before, and he
gear his inspiration from without, not from
within, the Muse assuredly has not chosen
him, however ardently he may have wooed the
M um e

There su•e passages in these two volumes so
much alike that it might be thought one
author had borrowed from the other, were it not
evident that both had borrowed freely from that
largo stock of thought and imagery which,
through changed circumstances, has partly lost
its original truth and signification, end has
fallen into commonplace by frequent and un-

THE PRESS.

meaning repetition. Crahhe. with .loluition's
strong approval. laughed at the dreamy bards
who &titled they were describing Nature by

Meehanie echoes of the Mantuan soul;."
Strange to say, the race of these dreamy
bards I►► not vet extinet. Some of them still
limey that every dock must have its shepherd.
with crook anti pipe, and that Phylisses must
ch►u•ut the feathered ehmisters of the µ►rove to
silence with their superior warblings. Mr.
Fitzhugh sings :
Where trembling wild dowers, wou'd by &amnia bee,
'Mid uturs•beds cluster oer the tinning rill ;
Where the soft plaint of tingdove front the tree
Mingles witit bleatings on the dist:mt hill,
I wander oft when noontitle'r burning sou
I:idm putting labour Poll the grateful shade :
To list the *tun:, to gentle ears unknown:

The ploughboy carols to his bright.e)oil
tih ! tew• and simple our the jobs of mut
Where rural labour rh►ims Ito. daily earn ;

Ile %%flit!. %AT siii., ha 111•11%.1* flAtt the ban
let., burn 'will the fetid city's
This is followed by a description of the rural
churchyard :
upside tio.m, too, the siugde 111:lidt`11 1111:
Wilf tr.f. Idlsltningehrokthe lem4 .1114
Wholl t. 11%. I% WI brightness in her etes,
And Whit'll the 11111ekilini utl the thorn.
hliort wa,Ficr life, but itriglit, t pan., awl gay ;

ller charmsuvlukc the rustic Jl li.%C'.
Shepherds from distant hills c here W posy,
.111.1 luu their reeds her bvutoti to kvilearm..

flaying given this taste of Mr. Fitzhugh's
quality, we may lie excused further extract ;
not should we have quoted these lines except
Warning to young bards that, if the nature
they see affords no materials for poetry, they
should not look for images in the descriptions
of poets who wrote centuries ago, when
possibly rural life presented itself under a
different aspect. " The Sword " of Mr. Fit:.
hugh does not pleaso us better than his
t'rook." lie 111111 better observe the promise
of one of his heroes and " sheathe it.'
Mr. Itobinsou's rural pictures are of a
higher class. They ale less plainly imitative
but, with some happy exceptions, scarcely
more natural. His intoning walk is a crowd
of images thrown together at random, quite
wanting in the pencilled di.,tiuctuess of
original observation :
As I descend, all round the hills become
Alive with docks of sheep, whose bleating sounds
Soft to the ear, like infancy's tirst notes ;
Now down the valley rings the huntsman's horn,
Sharp, clear, sad beautiful, quick answer -11 hack
Ily some stray hark, or the deep hay of hounds.
Now distant steeples joyous carols ring.
Flinging their sounds to heaven with such gl.
As if tin.y would announce them that lists
Bad into-nionied with the day, and all
Was jubilee below. Now taint i. !want
The city's rising murmur, like the throb
Subdued of some vast engine, or the sound
Of waters breaking on a distant shore ;
Now through the air uptloats the farmer's 44111
The clad: of whips, the ploughman's hoarei (s sly,
A.,
with
the
buy
tram
they move mong
To early toasturage : now front the field
Is heard the measure of the labourer's song.
With whistling tune, or loud laugh intersiwrs'4l.
As if wish every stroke hip. hew beat timv,
And, as he wiwkA, rude piettires of sweet home,
Of childhood's welcome, or ..f smiling wife
Throng .t 1 011.0%10 his healthy brain : and over all,
(o'er the lamb's bleating. ur the sheep dog's bark,
The winding horn, the carolling of bells,
The murmur of the city and the plain,
S.mg.4 of the skies—mitsie of the earth,

The cock'm shrill vry is hf ml aloud mid liar.
He seems to share Mr. Fitzhugh's delusion
that. in the country all youths and maidens
are happy. virtuous, and healthy, passing their
time in the innocent love-making represented
by the music of reeds and carols; while in
cities "the youthlesachildren of our factories,"
with "hapless morals," " pallid checks," and
" tearful eyes sunken with toil," are condemned
through life to
"Om long dArk
The tints of the one picture are all bright,
of the other all sombre ; there is more of
fancy than of truth in either. We agree with
an observation of "Jean Paul," that nothing
can be more false than to estimate eonditions
of humanity by our own standard, and to
represent those persons as utterly miserable
whose state appears so to us. The sub-
stance of his idea only occurs to us, but
we are strongly impressed with its general
good sense.
In Mr. Robinson's volume, however, there
are many touches of genuino poetic feeling.

523

Ile does not yet understand the seertst of self-
reliance. Finding an echo in his breast to
the 11111sleal utteruurr. Of tiIIICM past, he too
often adopts them for his min, and giveh forth
hentinient for troth. Ills own few modest.
rhino% are worth all the gninly tines he 11144
'IIIIM hit like this is tat mono
precious than the strung atilt' pant of tho
glowing eourbers of the •1111.- anti flit' slliOkt.
frOill tt hick tire-
cede and follow it. The dew. In' says, has
vanished front the earth,
sloe lint in slimly nooks tit tonsil
Pared by doted leite ea. Anil ruufitl by tangled laimtlni,
%Vliere the 'meet Kit ape.
And some lone bird Mina s man.) hough,
Dreaming pv111110,44. the Still** lilt, erlit.4ld,

Num to 'Xo submit.. hia midnight imam.

Here we recognise the poet's eye, and it k
passages like IMF& which lead us to augur•
favourably of the author's sensibility. lint he
tuuKt I►auish from his mind all bookish im•
invasions, and see or think tin• himself alone,
if lw would really present us with any pictures
of the rural life of our day worth attention.
Tho ground has rot been much trodden of
late, and would repay the culture of an
original observer wl►u dared to draw from
truth, not tiru•y.
Mr. ltobinson has jester pretension to
poctie thought than to description. But «here,
also, imitation, as it seems to us, has can ht
110141 of 111111, 111141 made hint a mannerist. Hi.,
misery is beyond the misery of all unfledged
poets who lune gone before him :

I Inns. drunk,
( Ily onn•ing CM the ilairk%ollo.
The theme of 1114' of
And all the Hokum changcm of I he earth,—)

I'p go the very dregn, the• ems 44 Itte.
Si•aret• 44161.'41 to my lips. I feel 144)Nr11,
Amid the mighty toryht 44 ili 41,4141
1,44.1 filo' a N111111•1'.11 141111 11 1.41101 g II ISE.

The jile.l ut thy bridwit down,

;$1: ink I.mli.koNl

M t% hollow %% ith 91v

Awl all tla• syovio vivo. ()toile ausrl.l---

glory, pleasion,, p.m cr. 14)ve,
1411• Ih.• isrvor ►

ity 1 un• 1140%, or if penthiiiiec,
"Cih 1.111114. 1101141 W Sllo'll,
111.1'01114:41111. lOW 11141/10111g 0111 411%111111.

lie has a partiality,—whieli w uhl ~vent
strange, if it were not so conuuou with per
sonm of him teniperainent,--for the
death and eorruption. We have the poet..
farewell :

" Farewell! a long awl ..al fai,ut II
To all Fee 14,41 win% ;
Fur clearly imw I hear iii. 1,18,11,"
and the musician's " dying invocation,"
" di, my beloved, turn illy midnight eyta
Limn nte ere l die,' ifte.
"Midnight eyes," by the way. i., a novelty a e
do not admire. Then there are the " Heart's
Requiem," begirmite; " Oh, fevered heart," and
ending,

•• Sleeping upon !hulks suit ',dime:

and lines writen in dejeetion. .

oh, Life, tio‘sit art 411 • '

and n unr,t dismal " Lamesatatioli,"
"Oh, mucking world. mid bollovphootithm!
" First Love" yield►t nothing more eheerild
than a moan over a tombstone: and n " Change
of Home" entraps us into following a young
lady into her Kel►ulehro

Her clo4.ed eyes arr sinking,
Anil hollows urr therr ;
114. r lips sre tut du-taking
The dark, 44411'4'4 air.
• • • • •

or uwnunl hest will
The mild eager
And thi% final king
She'll Hot rum in %vim

Anal forms that now moulder,
Whom• emnos an. roht,
11111 No bll igrll to tidal her
In Adopt' glom.
If such themes were the result of 01..ive, we
cannot at the author's taste ; but, if the
'sentiment which dietated them be natural, he
should endeavour, for him Own mwhe no less
than for that of his readers, to get rid of them
as quickly us possible. fie Wouldmore wisely
blow his melancholy into a flute than wears.
it into rls)use. In a far nubler style are some
lines sultgestaal doubtless by the text
Death, whore ii thy tidily? "