The Press.
London, England, 1856-06-28 00:00:00

THE PRESS.

held a miniature of her lost lord. " Alas,
Madam ! " he said, " while you cherish this
" malady, my art must needs be vain." After
her death, surly Johnson took part in a con
versation in which her fate was deplored. He
thought it a pity she had not been a char-
woman and compelled to work for her bread,
as her care would not then have settled about
her heart. The hand of little occupation,
says Shakespeare, bath the daintier sense.
In a refined and orderly state of society, sub-
jective fictions there always must be ; so let us
hope that, on the whole, their influence will
wisely be exercised, not to vitiate internal life,
but to prevent it from stagnating.
The dedication to " Erlesmere " affords a
key to its construction, and for that reason is
worth quotation :

To my Mother and Godmother.—As those who dwell by
still waters picture to themselves storms, that they may
the better appreciate their own happiness; so I, who lived
in the calm shelter of your affection, have portrayed in
this book such storms of life as were unknown to my
home•atmcsphero : therefore, to you, who made existence
what it was to me, I dedicate this story of a darker life.

Hence, as may be supposed, the " storms " de-
picted are rather conceived by the imagination
than imitated from reality.
The author throws his action back to the
time of the great French Revolution, when ideas
were unsettled, and there was wider range of
individual sentiment than in our own day.
Mr. Ede, a gentleman of the Lord Stanhope
type, very liberal, rather weak, and scarcely
sane, is suddenly left a widower with twin
boys, the elder feeble and shy, the younger
handsome and confident. With them, as his
ward, is left the brother of Mrs. Erle, one
Stephen Harley, a student, impregnated with
the sceptical philosophy, but not satisfied with
it. He is a doubter, uncertain what to believe,
yet not content with unbelief—cynical but
passionate, with ardent aspirations, yet no
heaven. The character of Mr. Erle, though
he lingers but a short time on the scene, is
conveyed by a few skilful touches. Stephen
mourns for his sister's death with that
bitterest of all sorrow which knows no
hope :

His guardian's voice disturbed him.
" Oh, Mary ! oh, my wife ! beet of women, my life will
be one long mourning for thee."
The words, so like a translation from Marmontel, dis-
turbed not merely his attention, but his tone of being.
The numbing cold at his heart was disturbed by a sharp
momentary anguish. He was again the scorner of all pre-
tences, of common men, and of their common pursuits.
The children are objects of care to both Mr.
Erle and Stephen :

" Shall we go and see them in the trirsery ? " asked
Stephen. They had reached the ball-door as he spoke.
You forestal me, my dear boy ; from this hour I devote
myself to them. Oh, Mary, look with pleasure on my love
to your legacy ! "
" Curious how belief in a future life will break in,
when for a moment dogmas are forgotten," thought
Stephen. . . .
" Please, sir," said the nurse, fearing that the gentlemen
were forgetting the twins. " I think it would be well if
Master—l mean the eldest young gentleman—were
christened."

" I'll consider, nurse," sai I Mr. Erle, hastily. "I am
inclined to think it would be useful. A certificate is often
wanted."

" Sir, it might be well to have it soon done. The
doctor thinks him very delicate. Poor child, he's not well
shaped for health."
" How? What! Is anything amiss ?"
" He will come straighter, sir, if he be well minded."
" Good God! is he deformed ?"
Curious how God is appealed to when feeling is ex•
cited," thought Stephen.

Mr. Erie soon disappears from the scene,
and the twins are left in the guardianship of
their uncle Stephen, and of Sir Harry
Effingham, a military disciplinarian. His
wife, Lady Effingham, is very fair and
gracious, one or those amiable persons whose
suavity arises from want of feeling:—

With every tender, every gracious part,
Say what does Chloe want? She wants a heart.
The Effinghams have a daughter, Mildred.
Lady Effingham thinks it would he highly con-
venient, as the estates join, ifahe were matched
to Herbert, the eldest twin ; Sir Harry is in
favour of Herbert's enterprising, high-spirited
brother, Cecil. Mr. De Broke is a clergyman
of the neighbourhood, and, while the whole
party are riding out one day, speculates on
the favour with which Herbert is received by
the Effinghams :

" Lady Effingham is markedly civil to him, certainly.
But it is natural enough; besides, I know his father

SATURDAY,

wished a union of Effingham and Erlesmere. At his
death, Herbert scarcely promised to attain his present
manhood."

" Oh, yes ! the boundaries of the estates run together,"
said Stephen, musingly. " True, 1 had half forgotten."
" Cecil is Sir Harry's favorite ; but he has to push his
way in the world before he can marry."
" Did you serve your time to a conveyancer, De
Broke?"
" Eh! no, of course not."
" I think it would be well for young clergymen to do
so; and short forms for passing and settling estates might
be annexed to the service for matrimony; they seem a
necessary part of the ceremony."
" Ah! you have odd notions, Harley."

In due time Mildred Effingham's character
unfolds. She is wilful, and has that strange kind
of self assertion often seen even in children
as they feel rather than are conscious of
innate superiority over those by whom they
are surrounded. She is attracted to Stephen
Harley, the sceptical student, by the same un-
definable sympathy that leads plants to their
proper sources of nourishment and support.
She has then three admirers, each essentially
distinct from the other; and when this posi-
tion is marked out the narrative rises in fasci-
nation and power. It is not necessary to
follow it further. It is clever, sometimes
eccentric, and in parts extremely poetical.
But it is much rather fantastical than natural.
It is a mere show of what persons with assumed
characters might do under assumed coudi•
tions. There are many passages towards the
close of the second volume of extraordinary
force, tragic circumstances being revealed in
those momentary flashes of dramatic fire
which are far more effective than laboured de-
scription. Such, for example, is the passage,
made up of exclamations, in which the form
of the mangled, bleeding Cecil meets Mildred
and Stephen, as, all sense of shame and re-
morse lost in the transport of triumphant sin,
they are about to quit her threshold. In this
and. similar passages there is exaggeration,
but also power. The author has fine faculties
of poetic perception. If he chooses to cult:•
vate his talents, and to graft upon them what
he specially wants, actual experience of life,
he may rise high as a novelist. How it is
that some writers as retired as himself should
have the faculty of conceiving modes of life
totally opposed to the quietude of their own
existence, is a mystery to be sought only in
the unaccountable range of human sympa-

thies. A writer may personally be pure, Yet
depict hideous vice—may be selfish, yet
charmingly exhibit generosity—may be regu-
lar, yet paint all the allurements of passion.
What could be a greater contrast to the
orderly money-getting life of Richardson as a
printer in Salisbury-square than the trials he
depicted of Clarissa Harlowe ? From whence
dirt he draw his pathos ? Where did he get his
knowledge of the heart? Or how did the late
Miss Bronte, in her country retreat, acquire
the mastery of character and motive which
she undoubtedly possessed, though often exer-
cised most fantastically ?
Something of this intuitive faculty, most
wonderfully shown when the temper is serene,
the heart pure, the affections regulated, and
the judgment cool, Mr. Lavenu possesses.
But this faculty is liable to mislead, and the
author of " Erlesmere " seems to us just one
of those writers who have need to curb their
conceptive power by all the restraints of ex-
perience and study.

Gabriel. By Bessie Rayner Parkes. London :
Chapman.
WE are not sure that we comprehend the full scope
of this little poem. It is in some way connected with
the poet Shelley, who appears to be the object of the
young lady's most sincere idolatory ; but beyond
this general truth we are left in darkness. The
poetry itself is a clever imitation of that of the
Laureate. The music of it is perfect, and the language
and images bespeak a truly poetic vein of thought.
The few stanzas following are descriptive of the
scenery of Shelley's early home, and his associa-
tions :

For miles these beeches rise and fall,
And ripple like some inland sea;
From bough to bough the wood-birds call,
And squirrels nest in every tree :
Blue depths of distance melt away
As far as vision may discern,
And all the open slopes are gay
With foxgloves and the tangled fern.

II

JuNt 28, 1856.

So, girt with beauty round about,
By poet built for poet's praise ;
Each gable end and sculptured spout
Hsif hidden up in ivy sprays,
Which glist.m in the westering sun,
And inward through the oriels stream
(While busy Time aloof (loth rnn),
This house doth stand, an artist's dream.
Fair portraits smile from golden frames,
The lovely lady silent sings,
And warriors of heroic names
Dwelt here of yore, the hosts of kings.
The odour of the storied past
Still lingers over hall and room,
Whose light, from blazon'd.window cast,
Blends strangely with the quaint perfume.
Oh ! musing on these stately homes,
And lunging that those paths were mine
Where all of nobleness becomes

A heritage and right divine,
I seem to see him stand once more
immortal in his radiant, youth,
Bright with the smile that once he wore,
And pray to find the vision—truth.
A dainty nobleness shone plain
In all he thought, or did, or said,
A fineness of the inner grain,
From sires of courtly nurture bred;
And though he were a freeman made
Of wider realms than birth bestows,
He yet unconszious witness paid
To that fair stock from whence he rose.
Should any marvel 1, who boast
On both descents a glorious name,
Count much ot' that which is at must
A spur to win an equal fame,
Yet this curl'd darling of the earth
Seem'd fitly by his lineage known,
And ever deem'd it added worth
That Sidney's blood enrich'd his own.

On Foot through Tyrol in the Summer of 1855.
By Walter White. London : Chapman and Hall.

Mn. WHITE, who last year wrote so pleasant an
account of his pedestrian journey to the Land's End,
has, in this volume, detailed a tour on foot through
the Tyrol. By steamboat and rail through Ger-
many he reached the upper part of Lake Constance,
and thence commenced his walk, stretching through
the Tyrol to Innspruck and Trent. He viewed all
places of note on his route, was charmed with some
magnificent mountain scenery, conversed freely with
the people be met during his walks or at the houses
where he rested, met with nothing but honesty and
kindness in the Tyrol, "dined right royally" in the
upper gallery of the inn where Hofer was born, re-
turned via Carlsrube and Strasburg through France,
got home within the month assigned for his
holiday, and seems to have been able to combine a
novel and exhilarating trip with great economy.
Sometimes he gives fares and charges, but not regu-
lady. Had he distinctly marked each stage of his
journey, and accurately set down his expenses,
his book would have usefully served as a
guide to other persons meditating the like or a simi-
lar month's journey. He met with some politicians,
and found the belief general (his tour was made in
July last year) that the allies would never take
Sebastopol. He laughed at the predictions he heard
of our approaching downfall, at the abuse of our
" rabble parliament," and at the reproaches cast on
us "for harbouring such fellows as Mazzini and
Kossuth." A worthy Rittmeister of the gendarmerie
at Kaltern was very anxious to assure him that
Austria was a much happier country than the English
are disposed to believe :
"I wonder," continued the Rittmeister, "that so much
misconception concerning Austria should prevail in Eng-
land when so many Englishmen travel here every year.
Are they unable to report truly, or do they misunderstand
everything? Is ours such a callous despotism? Have we
not schools in number for the education of the people ?
The people know that their pleasures and welfare are cared
for by the State, and hence they are loyal. . . . Look
at Tyrol ! Have you seen any discontent there? Why,
when your Minister, Palmerston, made himself obnoxious
by his foreign policy in 1848, the Tyrolese were so exaspe-
rated at the slights offered, as they thought, to Austria,
that they had his lordship's effigy everywhere all through
the land for a shooting-target, and on his breast a label
fastened, with the words—

' If the devil has a son,
lie surely as Lord Palmerston:"
Mr. White is always cheerful, and manages to con-
vey to his readers some portion of the enjoyment he
evidently experienced himself.

Israel in the Past, Present, and Future. By
Thomas Hutton, F.G.S., Captain Bengal Army.
London : Hamilton and Adams.

TFIE object of this little work is to dissipate the pre-
vailing delusion that the Jews are at some future
day to be restored bodily to the Land of Palestine.
It evinces a wide range of biblical reading, and
great earnestness of purpose. It is a remarkable
production from the pen of a military man, and is
entitled to claim a fair position among works on
scriptural chronology and prophecy in general.

THE ;PR.ESB.

Shoepac Recollections. A Wayside Glimpse of
American Life. By Walter March. London :
Trubner and Co.

AN agreeably written little book, containing what, to
judge from internal evidence, we should say are
genuine pictures of sniddle•class American life of the
better sort. The family of the Marches is a well-
drawn group; and their friend, Mr. Jumps, the
squatter, and his son Joram, truly humorous por-
traits. Many pleasant reminiscences of the old
French Canadians are interspersed through the
book, and the two first chapters in particular, being
a description of the town of Detroit some forty years
ago, have a quiet poetry about them thoroughly in
keeping with the subject. The term Shoepac,
which, we fancy, might puzzle some of our readers,
is derived from the old Canadian shoe—a sort of
compromise between the modern shoe and the
Indian mocassin, which was worn by the primitive
inhabitants of Acady in the days of our author's
youth.

A Vacation in Brittany. By Charles R. Weld.
London : Chapman and Hall.
FURNISHED with sketching-stool and fishing-rod, Mr.
Weld left England last July to pass a couple of
months in quietly rambling through Brittany. He
marked out his route on a good map, and as, fortu-
nately for the tourist, there are no railways in Brit
tany, he was enabled to thoroughly acquaint himself
with the beauties of the country through which ho
passed. At I)inan he hired a cabriolet at ten francs
a day, the driver keeping himself and his horse, and
in this way journeyed conveniently at a not extrava-
gant rate. Lingering in some spots that pleased him,
tilling his portfolio with sketches on his way, hooking
delicious trout from the streams in the neighbour-
hood of the inns where he stopped, mixing in the
village fetes common in Brittany through the
summer, and picking up here and there antiquarian
knowledge, Mr. Weld seems to have passed his vaca-
tion as agreeably as any gentleman could desire.
His volume is plainly descriptive ; the historical
notes neither too long nor too frequent ; and the
notices of towns, scenery, edifices, and costumes,
aided by many exquisite vignettes from the author's
sketches. Mental accomplishment is combined with
bonhommie, and the reader readily subscribes to the
closing sentence of the volume, that Mr. Weld must
bear delightful remembrance of his tour in one
of the most interesting and picturesque parts of
France.

THE TEXT OF SHAKESPEARE.
TO THE EDITOR OF "THE PRESS."

Sir,—Agreeing with you that "the text of Shake-
speare cannot be too diligently examined," I beg
to offer one or two suggestions upon the two in-
stances cited by you from Timon of Athens.
The first instance, "take his haste," from act v.
sc. 2, has given rise to much controversy, but we
don't require to go so far in search of the correct read-
ing as Mr. Collier's anonymous annotation has gone.
" Take" is evidently a misprint for " make." Change
the t into m, and the passage stands as I have no
doubt Shakespeare wrote it. This is evident from
the context. The tree was shortly to be felled, and
if the Athenians did not "make their haste" to
come ere it had "felt the axe," they would not have
an opportunity of hanging themselves "to prevent
wild Alcibiades' wrath." _ _

With regard to the second instance cited by you
from act iii. sc. 2, the great difficulty is to account
for the word " hundred " having got into the text. If
we can do this the rest is easily settled. Now this
is done in the following way. Flaminius and Ser-
vilius were each sent to borrow fifty talents. Flatni-
nius had performed his message first, and the re-
port of it had got abroad before Servilius met with
Lticius. If, therefore, we substitue the word " fifty"
for the words "so many "in the sentence in which
the second stranger makes the fact known to Lucius,
what more natural than that Lucius should ask Ser-
vilius what his lord wanted with a hundred talents ?
That is, what does he want with fifty talents from
Lucullus and fifty from me, making a hundred
talents in all. Keeping this in view, I propose that
the passage should read as follows:

Servilius. He has only sent his present occasion now,
my lord, requesting your lordship to supply his instant
use with fifty talents.
Lucius. I know his lordship is but merry with me ; he
cannot want a hundred talents.
Serrilies. But in the meantime he wants less, &c.
Of course this requires that the sentence put into
the mouth of the second stranger be altered to the
extent I have already stated; but if it be allowed to
change the words "so many" in the mouth of Ser-
vilius into " fifty," it cannot be objected to the same
change being made i❑ the other case also. There
may be caligraphic reasons with which we are unac-
quainted for the same word being mistaken in both
instances. At all events the alterations I suggest
would make the text consistent with itself, and are
by no means so outrageous as some of those made

619

upon the authority of Mr. Collier's " newly-disco-
vered" folio.—l am, &c., JAQUES.

[A number of other communications have
reached us on the same passages in Timon of Athens.
Perhaps in the first passage, " take his leave "
may be read. The change would be slight, and
would give, we think, force to the whole passage :
Tell Athens, in the sequence of degree
From high to low throughout, that whoso please
To stop affliction, let him take his leave, y..
Come hither ere my tree bath felt the axe '"" 14-11`.
-•-

And hang himself.
In the second passage, that a stranger should
tell Lucius that one of Timon's servants had
been endeavouring to borrow "so many talents "
is just what we might expect from the loose-
ness of report, and probably the phrase in this
place may have misled the transcriber or printer
lower down. The exaggeration of Lucius when
satisfied that Timon has really sent for fifty talents
would be natural. Suppose a messenger came from
Lionel Rothschild to one of his City friend, with a
request for a loan of five hundred pounds, might not
the answer be, " he cannot want five hnndred thou-
sand pounds"? This is evidently the sense of the
passage ; and the only plausible reading, as opposed
to " fifty hundred talents," that of " fifty five-hun-
dred talents," seems to want the force of round
numbers, usually employed in such cases, and to
extend exaggeration too far. It is, no doubt, ex-
tremely difficult to suggest any emendation of cor-
rupt passages which shall be unexceptionable, as
language is apt to lose its meaning when too in-
tently pondered ; but what is to be done with pas-
sages which, as in this case, are indisputably cor-
rupt? They ought not to be left as positive blots on
the text. A judicious editor will give the reading
which seems to him most strongly supported, and,
noting his alteration from the original text, will leave
it to be decided by that enlarged opinion of genera-
tions of readers which seldom errs, whether his
judgment be correct, or whether a better reading can
be suggested.]

TO THE EDITOR OF "THE PREBB."

The writer begs to suggest to the author of " The
Text of Shakespeare," in THE PRESS of May 3,
whether, in " the line for elucidation," in the pas-
sages there given, the word "leagues" might not be
read "lengths "

For, ere the ships could meet by twice five lengths,
We were encountered, etc.
This would bring the ships within the distance re-
quired to make sense of the passage, and would be
quite consistent with the usual phraseology in such
cases. 'We often read of a ship "striking on a rock
when not more than twice her own length from the
shore ;" and in a boatrace of one winning by a length,
and so on. " Valeat quantum valere dehet."

[The suggestion is ingenious. Twice five leagues
j. 3 evidently wrong. " Lengths" should stand if no
more probable meaning can be suggested. The
doubt is, whether the ships would not in that case
be brought too closely together, and there is antece-
dent improbability against iEgeon attempting to
mark any precise distance in a moment of so much
peril.]

TO THE EDITOR OF " THE PRESS."

Sir,—According to your invitation, I venture to
offer some suggestions on the text of Shakespeare,
chiefly with a view to oppose the alterations which
the MS. corrector, under the sanction of Mr. Collier,
would introduce, and which may be refuted by the
high authority of Shakespeare himself. Iu The
Comedy of Errors, Luciana, addressing the twin-
brother whom she takes for her sister's husband,
says, as Mr. Collier admits, from the early folios :
And may it be, that you have quite forgot
A husband's office ? Shall Antipholus,
Even in the spring of love thy love springs rot ?
Shall love in buildings grow so ruinate?—Act iii. sc. 2.
Malone altered the last word to " ruinous," in order
to preserve the rhyme with Antipholus, and this
mode of reading the passage is adhered to by Mr.
Collier in his own excellent edition. The " old cor-
rector "retains " ruinate," and, to preserve the rhyme,
alters the second line in a most unwarrantable
manner. He gives the passage thus :
And may it be that you have quite forgot
A husband's office? Shall unkind debate,

Even in the spring of love thy love-spring rot?
Shall love in building grow so ruinate ?
But, whatever other changes may be allowed, the
name of Antipholus must remain, as sanctioned by
the subsequent text; for, when Luciana has finished
her reproaches, Antipholus replies :--
Sweet mistress, what your name is else, I know not,
Nor by what wonder you do hit on mine.
As the whole of Luciana's speech is in rhyme, we
must, therefore, either accept Malone's version, in
which "ruinous" agrees with "Antipholus," or a