The Press.
London, England, 1858-11-20 00:00:00

THE PRESS, NOVEMBER 20, 1858.

1138

seas " on which her eyelids lighty fall ? or sigh
to her . .

Swift voice, life flight of dove
Through !muster arches floating?

or hang upon the "keen lips" that shape soft
things like crystals of snow—in Russia, so we
have read, words hang like icicles from the beard ?
or rave about that tiny foot that dances " till
finches chirrup " ? We do not criticize these
pretty babblings any more than those of a mother
to her child. It is Nature, and she alone, who
must bear the blame, if blame there be. Nor
would we be so ungallant as to hint to Miss
Trevanion that when " the hyacinth pealed from
its bells," no music smote upon our car ; or to
suggest that Mabel s terror may have caused her
teeth to chatter when she whispered to her
mother,—

I trembled so, I scarce could stand, e'en when in the
fresh air;

• to ask if it be lawful to transpose the v and
the w in the line,
'Mid wet vine•leaves which glistened.
This would, indeed, be unkind ; as much so as if
on reading

Sing MP again the song von sang

In that lonely place so still and sweet,
we were to exclaim, Surely a sibilant syren she
who should sing that 'Jong. But, in truth, there
are many pagsages in Mis Trevanion's poems full
of grace and tenderness, and as sweet as music on
the water. Even Mr. Henry Cecil is not unplea-
sant when he condescends to be intelligible, and
leaves his " llouris, dropping off to sleep," to
" warble lovelorn in the lotus-land." As a
specimen of his gloomy and grand style, we shall
close this tribute to a triad of British Bards by
the introductory lines to

liquor. "No more prate," said Jack Ginger, " here's
" twopence for you to buy some beer—but no," he
continued, drav,ing his empty hand from that
breeches pocket into which he had most needlessly
put it—" no," said hz, "Jerry—get it on credit
" wherever you can, and bid them score it to me."
"If they will;' said Jerry.—And so on. These
glimpses of a state of things prevalent among
the " wits and Tcmplars " of the last genera-
tion, constitute, to us, the greatest charm of
these stories. For Magiun's set attempts at wit
are, in our opinion, rather lame, or seem so, now.
For easy, refined, and almost Addisonian humour
commend us to Colonel Hamley. Had Major
Flinders been introduced to the world in a three-
volume novel, and his peculiarities developed, he
would have taken his place among the most cherished
worthies of English fiction. He is a quiet old
bachelor, fond of Shakespeare, fond ol• his pipe, very
fond of his dinner, and still fonder of a haruni scarum
nephew—an ensign in his own regiment quartered
at Gibraltar. The latter contrives to get him married
to a Spanish lady, who makes him an excellent wife,
but of whose close relation to him the major for a
long time was liable to be oblivious. And when,
" about a year after his marriage, a new•born female
" Flinders (now my venerable aunt) was brought one
" morning by the nurse for his inspection and ap-
" proval, he gazed at it with a puzzled air, and could
" not be convinced that he was actually in the
" presence of his own flesh and blood, till be had
" touched the cheek of his first-born with the point of
" his tobacco-pipe, removed from his mouth for that
" purpose, making on the infant's countenance a small
" indentation." Afterwards, during the siege of Gib-
raltar, he and his nephew are placing stores in a
cavern, and stumble on some deserters engaged in
the delightful operation of roasting a pig, which it
appears is just done, on a fire of cinnamon wood. They
are taken into custody, and then—
" Come along, Major," said Owan; " perhaps we may find
more of these scoundrels ui the course of our researches."

The Alsjor did not move ; he was earnestly regarding
the carcass of the pid, that steamed hissing above the
embers.

'`Queer idea that of the cinnamon fire," sail he. " I
wonder how the meat tastes."

Owen did not hear him, having walked forward.
" Have you got a knife about you, Frank?" said the
Major. " Do you know I have a curious desire to ascer-
tain the flavour. it may be a feature in cookery worth
knowing." . . .

Owen had not a knife, nor had any of the men, but one
of them suggested that the Major's sword would answer
the purpose.
"To be sure," said the Major. " A good ideal I don't
see why swords shouldn't be turned into carving-knives u
well as into pruning-hooks." So saying lie drew it from
the sheath, and, straddling across the tire, detached a
crisp brown mouthful from the pig's ribs, and putting a
little salt on it, he conveyed it to his mouth.
" Excellent !" cried the Major. " I give you my word
of honour, Owen, 'tis excellent. The cinnamon gives it
a sort of a —"

Here a second and larger mouthful interrupted the
criticism.

" It must be very near lunch-time," said the Major,
pausing, sword in hand, when he had swallowed it; then,
pretending to look at his watch—" Bless me, it only wants
half-an-hour of it. Do you think this business will take
you long, Owen?"
" About a couple of boars," said Owen.
" Ay, why, there you see," ret.trned the Major, " we
shan't get home till long past lunch-time. I really don't
see why we shouldn't take a snack now. Nothing can be
better than that pig. I only wish the woman had dressed
my dinner half as well. Corporal Hudson, would you
oblige me with a piece of that biscuit near you ?" And,
detaching a large fragment of pork, lie placed it on the
biscuit, and sprinkling it with pepper and salt, which
condiments had not been forgotten in the gastronomic
arrangements of Mr. Bags, he proceeded to follow Owen
into the interior of the cave, taking huge bite, as he went.
In bold contrast with this ripe and very fruity humour
are the striking stories of " The Floating Beacon "
and " The Iron Shroud," which to all lovers of the
horrible and the marvellous will prove a rare treat,
while none on whom Nature has bestowed a keen
sense of the ridiculous and a taste for exquisite irony
can fail to be delighted with the twu contributions of
Professor Aytoun. When another volume or two
have made their appearance, we shall perhaps return
to the subject.

Belgium, and Up and Down the Rhine. Metrical

Memorials. London : Nisbet and Ca.
THE author of these '° Metrical Memorials" tells us,
in his preface, that he was one of a party of four who
made a delightful excursion in the year of grace
1836 from London to Frankfort through Belgium,
and up the Rhine. So heartily did he enjoy the trip
that, like the birds, he instinctively broke out into
song. These tuneful strains, which he confesses
are not true sonnets, he now offers as an example to
others who may travel over the same ground. Some
of these l►ttle pieces are by no means devoid of merit,
as, for instance, the following lines on the Rhine :

110LANDSECK—A DULL DAY.
Misty with cloud-drift, and the passing shower,
This is no sunny Rhine ! yet mark how well
Each hill and valley gains a solemn power,
While mystic shadows weave their wildering spell,
Now through the gloom a shapeless mass appears ;
The cloud whirls by, and, In, the castle walls,
Half hidden, half ruvesl'd, like bygone years:
Hark, how toe echo to the echo calls !
While hither, thither, all in shifting light,
Winds the proud river, dull, and swift, anj sheer:
Now through a cloud rift comes a sunbeam bright,
All is clad green ! then, downward hurrying near,
The cloudy veil enwraps, like sturdy night;
And all again is stern, strange, wild, and drone.

The Law of Wills, Executors, and Administrators.
By W. A. Holdsworth, Esq. London : Routledge.
EVERY man, it seems, is determined upon becoming
his own lawyer, the result of which rash resolution
will doubtless be a bounteous harvest of litigation.
Every day some new handy beuk of law is announced,
and the public fondly imagine that they will soon be
able to dispense with the aid of wig and gown. To
administer to this infatuation Mr. Holdsworth has
published a concise guide book for the benefit of
will.makers, their executors and administraturs. Ills
instructions are precise and clear, and are accom.
panied by a large collection of useful forms. Still,
they who love sound sleep, good digestion, and
length of days, will do well to consult a respectable
solicitor, in preference to acting upon their ownjudg-
ment, even when aided by handy books.

Curiosities of Science, Past and Present. By John
Timbs, F.S.A. London : Kent and Co.
I . Mr. Timbs continues yet a few years to prosecute
his useful labours, there will remain little or nothing
that is not generally known and familiarly explained.
The present little volume of extracts embraces a
wide range of study, and contains much interesting
information on all kinds of natural phenomena, en-
livened with curious anecdotes relating to scientific
inquirers and their discoveries. Like the previous
cotispilatiuns of this conscientious and painstaking
writer, the " Curiosities of Science" bears witness
to an indefatigable industry combined with a nice
appreciation of the sort of knowledge everybody
wishes to possess without the trouble of personal
investigation.

The War Tiger; a Tale of the Conquest of China.
By William Dalton. London : Grafitti and Farrell.
Mn. DALTON is truly a bold man. He has taken time
by the forelock. Instead of waiting for the results
of Lord Elgin's treaty, he scours the Celestial
Empire from end to end, details the every-day life of
the original Chinese, and passes within the pruhi•
biteci wall of the unapproachable palace. Love and
war, piracy and piety, fraud and fidelity, ignorance
and wisdom, are all blended together in a tangled
skein, the unravelling of which is effected iu a
vigorous and Alexandrian style. The illustrations
also, are appropriate and eminently calculated to
stimulate the curiosity of juvenile readers, for whose
particular amusement and edification this tale host
apparently been written.

The Forest of Dean; an Historical and Descriptive
Account. By H. G. Nicholls, M.A. London
Murray.
Tetouan more erpecially of local interest, this curious
and instructive work will be valued by all who care
to know something of the nooks and corners of their
own country, and of the old-fashioned folk by whom
they are inhabited. The Forest of Dean is a sort of
Mesopotamia, lying between the Severn and the Wye,
and remarkable for its rich mines of coal
ha!! and
iron. The latter mineral, indeed, appears to
been worked in the time of the Kimmins, as coins of
that empire have been found deeply buried beneath
heaps of iron cinders, which have existed front ages
whereof the memory of man runneth nzt to the con-
trary. The forest was likewise a great bunting
ground in the reign of the Conqueror, who set out
from thence in 1001) to expel the Danes from York.
shire. The Castle of St. Briavel's is assigned by
Giraldus to the time of Henry 1., when it wa.l built
by Milo Fitx.Walter to repress the inroads of the
Welsh. But although a venerable antiquity attaches
to the district and its semi-auliterraneau inhabitants,
Christianity may be said to hive been established
there within a very recent period. Christian names,
of course, were of an earlier origin, but even these
were derived chiefly from the Old TeStarnallt.Arng
the most prevalent were Benedict*, Abia, Winifred/
Kesia, Barziilai, Sibylla, Eve, Saba, Sabina, &a e+
Trypheua, Bilinda, Myra, Terzah, Nimrod,
Miles, Milson, Sc. River Jordan is also a favourite
presnomen, as likewise Providence. An anecdote is
told of a Providence Potter, "one of whose rep
" sentatives, a sad drunken fellow, once went to his
" iramane squire in pest distress. The tforthl
Rive!,

" gentleman, after suggesting various expedients but
"w no purpose, at last said, Well, he could see
othirag for it but to trust in Providence.' Lord
bless you, sir, why, Providence has been dead these
ten years !'" This is a fair pendant to a story told
the writer of this notice by a young clergyman who
had obtained a curacy in an out-of-the-way district
under a very old and enfeebled rector. He had not
long leached the scene of his labours before he dis-
covered that a large portion of his parishioners were
utterly ignorant of the simplest truths of the Chris-
tian religion. He therefore inaugurated his proceed-
ings by a brief, succinct outline of the life, sufferings,
and death of the Redeemer. After service was over,
be joined a respectable yeoman who was going in
the same direction with himself, and asked his
opinion of what he had just beard. " Well, sit,"
said he, raising his hat and scratching his head, " it
be a bad business altogether, and I be main sorry
they killed him. But it's so fair off, and so long ago,
let's hope it baint all true." In the Forest of Dean
"no sustained effort to impart religious instruction "
was made until the year 1803, when the Rev. P. M.
Proctor first turned light upon the thick darkness.
The rude miners eagerly gathered around him to
hear the Gospel creached, and from that time
churches and chapels followed one another in quick
succession. But nor these and many other highly
interesting particulars we must refer the reader to
the well digested labours of the Rev. Mr. Nicholls.

rusitat gtv nit

Juanita. A Song of Spain. Words and Music
by the Honourable Mrs. Norton. London :
Chappell and Co.
EVERYBODY knows Byron's rhapsodical ebullition
in " Childe Harold,"
Match me ye climes which poets love to laud, ttc.,
and how he rapturously declares, in the same
canto, that Spain's maids are
Formed for all the witching arts of love.
Is he right ? Witness the country's popular
songs, whose eternal burden is the one great
passion. The truly Spanish poet may wish to
sing of chivalry, of patriotism—of what you will,
but love is still his national theme.
We need scarcely say, then, that " Juanita," a
" Song of Spain," treats of love ; but it is our
bounden duty to state that the Hon. Mrs. Norton
has thrown into both words and music much
impassioned tenderness and quaint coquettish-
ness; that her melody, quite characteristic from
first to last, is at the same time eminently vocal,
and capable of being rendered highly effective
by those who possess a contralto voice, for which
"Juanita" is evidently designed.
"Maraquita," a Portuguese love-song, is an-
other effusion from the same authoress, and pub-
lished likewise by Messrs. Chappell. It is even
more interesting than its Spanish companion,
and, like " .Juanita," is well adapted for the dis-
play of a contralto voice.
The following extract will give our readers
some idea of Mrs. Norton's verses :
Oh, then, when passion and love are over,
Though youth and beauty may fade away,
On dove-like pinions shall memory hover
And fondly hallow this bygone day.
Words long since spoken shall deliver
The echoed sweetness of Love's clear tone,
Ani float like music o'er Life's wide river,
hro' sunsets bright as the sunrise gone.

Hamilton', Modern Instructions for Singing and
. _

the Pianoforte. London : Cocks and Co.
THESE useful and very cheap works have been
so long known to the musical public that we need
do no more than call attention to the fact of their
republication by Messrs. Cocks, with certain addi-
tions and corrections which materially enhance
their value, whilst the prices still remain within
the means of almost every class of amateurs.

One Hundred Voluntaries, Preludes, Interludes,
Hymns, and Fugues, by Rink, Mozart, Beethoven,
for the Organ or Harmonium. London :
Davidson.

'fats publication truly deserves to be ranked
amongst Mr. Davidson's " Musical Miracles ; '
and who would not purchase a miracle of any
kind when it may be had for one shilling ? Her•
are one hundred short pieces by the best masters,
well-arranged for the organ or harmonium, clearly
engraved, on good paper, and in a very conve-