The Press.
London, England, 1858-04-10 00:00:00

THE PRESS, APRIL 10, 1858.

saw last week, he warns us to distrust. What-
ever suspicion we may entertain respecting the
poetical justice which is dealt out by Mr. May-
hew, we have nothing but admiration to ex-
press of the scenes and situations he has so graphi-
cally described, and in which probably no writer is
so well versed as hims.:lC. The illustrations are ex
cellent, and enter completely into the spirit of the
work, and the volume altogether is one which will be
read through with curiosity, 'interest, and wonder by
all who may happen to glance at its pages.
2. The purpose of " A Lover's Quarrel " is to pro•
test against the truth of Terence'a famous and ott-
quoted line. The heroine is engaged to a model
clergyman, who brings her presents in a " casket "
(your conventional novelist delights in a " casket "),
but quarrels with him in chap. i., and the lovers
are consequently kept apart till the end of the
third volume. The lady of course runs all
manners of risks in the interim, and very nearly
marries a gentleman who has an unlawful estab-
lishment already, a mother of extremely doubtful
antecedcnts,and is himself capable of interpolating a
parish register. Bigamy, forgery, and the humours
of parvenu families, with a somewhat intricate plot,
compose a mixture uniting the peculiar merits of
penny romances with the rose-pink elegance of novels
of fashionable life. The result is somewhat be-
wildering, and the reader is onfy enabled to persevere
by being kept in a state of mild excitement as to
what odd thing will next happen to the characters,
or be said by the writer. Somo writers of fiction
can describe bores without becoming tiresome, and
vulgarity without being vulgar. The authoress of
" A Lover's Quarrel " has no such talent. The two
subjects on which sl:e is most fluent are dress and
eating, and though professing to laugh at the ex-
pense of those who indulge in them, she describes
both with such evident sympathy as to cast a doubt
upon the genuineness of her sarcasm:—

Three very large French deal boxes were on the floor ;
their contents were spread on the bed and the sofa.
" What is all this, Mamma? Who has sent these costly,
these exquisite things ?"
"My uncle, Lord Rockalpine. It seems Claverhouse
has told him of the ball, and he has ordered of the
Empress's modiste the most elegant toilettes for us, all
that taste could devise or money purchase. Nothing is
forgotten—head-dresses, gloves, shoes, fans, wreaths, even
mouchoira. Mabel has examined the dresses, and declares
they are certain to fit. Did you ever see anything so ex-
quisite? Just look at mine! could anything be more
suitable, more becoming ! This velvet is the richest
Genoa, and of a rose-colour never seen in England ; just
notice the trimmings of the skirt and the jacket, the
superb blonde and graceful feathers of the head-dress, the
sleeves and the chemisette ! It reminds me of old times,
when no girl ever took more delight in dressing her doll,
than my dear, dear uncle in dressing me ; and the doll was
not more thankless," she added, wiping away a tear.
" And now look at your dress and Cecile's, remark the
taste of those bodaices, the delicate brilliancy of the silver
embroidery of those five tunics to each skirt—the milliner
has forgotten nothing, even the Eugenie crinoline is there,
to give the exact amount of tout-woe that is now the
fashion in Paris. A' for the wreaths, they are pet feet ion;
the only difference, that yours is all white, while a delicate
blush in the roses adapts Cecile's better to her hair and
complexion."
The Nemesis attendant on this unholy finery, when
the wearer thinks of her dis3arded clergyman and is
sad, contains a touch of nature which we have ven-
tured to italicise :

All this passed through Cecile's mind, as she, the
acknowledged beauty of the evening, stood surrounded by
the officers of the regiment of Dragoons—admired
by all the men—hated, envied, by all the women, Miss
Cosa especially, Courtney Claverhouse in such close
attendance, and so pointedly devoted, that it was soon
decided he was a favoured aspirant!
Cecile let him hold her bouquet, fan, flacon—accepted the
hand he offered, and drank the iced lemonade he tendeted.
But almost unconsciously did she give this passive en-
couragement, and quite regardless was she of the glances,
sighs, stares, and ogles directed at her. Yes! in her bril-
liant and fairy-like draperies of gauze and silver (the
Queen of Beauty with her court around ber), her woman
heart :vas yet dwelling with ineffable regret on tbat time
so recently past, and yet which seemed so very long ago,
when she was Dudley Ffarcourt's companion in his visits
to the poor and sick. She almost loathed the costly elegance
of her ball dress, ell she thought of the pink or liloc gingham*
he loved so well!

There is a passage descriptive of what the authoress,
who likes to parade her French, calls a " petit
souper," which is positively succulent in its tone, and if
read in Lent, would probably excite " growling" in any
well-organized frame : but we spare our readers the
trial. However, the book is not without some gleams
of common sense ; witness the following bit, on gover-
nesses, correcting a view now almost too prevalent .
It is quite tree that governes3es are generally Unrested,
over-worked, blighted, miserably remunerated, and cruelly
humbled ; the majority are much to be admired, pitied and
respected
Still, there is another side to the picture—there is even
the tyrant governess, whom every one dreads and bows to;
there is the coquettish governess, who tries to captivate
and subdue all husbands, brothers, sons, ite. dze.; and
there is the scheming governess, whose great object is, in

spite of the disadvantages of her position, to get herself
marri.d, and who neglects her solemn deities, and high
office, to advance her own interest and oariy out her own
schemes.

Governesses are not all young, guileless, will born,
beautiful, mil oppressed. To some it is a great rise in
life to be governesses, and even some, who are by birth
ladies, do not act as such in their " situations."

Invetarate novel-readers may possibly like "A.
Lover's Quarrel," but those who look for careful
study of character or probability of narrative cannot
be advised to send for it.

:3. In "'"he Old Palace "—to which is subjoined a
second story called " A Passage from Real Life "
Miss Tilt has considerably improved upon " May
Hamilton." Her former effort was open to the objec-
tion we have made to the subject of the preceding
notice—that of falling into vulgarity and tediousness
in the attempt to represent vulgar or tedious
people. The present work is less ambitious and
more stucessful, the characters are more quietly
described, and there is a certain degree of originality
about the motive of the story. Unfortunately, Miss
Tilt, having seized on an idea not quite worn thread-
bare, immediately proceeds to make it so, and uses
it as the foundation of both her stories ! This shows
a poverty of invention which we should not have
expected from so lively a writer. We have also to
complain of a certain want of taste shown in the
authoress's manner of expressing herself on religious
subjects, and of a certain hardness of mind which
fails to see that the heroine she has drawn is not an
attractive, but a remarkably selfish character. How •
ever, as we have said, she has made an advance, and
we will hope that these faults, too, may be got rid of
in a next attempt.
4. " The Netherwoods of Otterpool " is a long
history of family estrangement. Squire Philip
Netherwood of Otterpool in Derbyshire, with
50,0001. a year, is thwarted by his only son, Frank,
whom he wishes to marry an earl's daughter, but
who has made his own choice in the daughter of a
neighbouring baronet at feud with his father. Frank
persists in his intention, and is disinherited in favour
of his sister, who however, with her husband's con-
currence, magnanimously resolves not to take advan-
tage of this good fortune. Frank will be heir to
10.0001. a year on the death of his uncle, bat in
consequence of his father-in-law dying without having
provided for his daughter, has to go through
a good deal of genteel poverty, and is perse-
cuted by the revenge of the lady he has re-
fused to marry. Providential misfortunes come
on the relentless old squire in the deaths of his
daughter, her husband, and their infant son ; a
daughter, Annie, is left, whom he brings up. In
consequence of Frank's absence from the village,
matters go wrong, and poachers wax turbulent. In
a subsequent affray with some of these, the squire is
dreadfully mauled, and is obliged to be sent to Nice,
where the warm climate has the effect of softening
his heart. His son and daughter-in-law are sent for
and receive his blessing. Here may be said to com-
mence a second portion of the story. Frank has a
son, Philip, with whom Annie falls in love, and an
engagement results, but in consequence of a rival,
the lady's attachment is returned with so little ardour
that she at length resolves to break it off and make
over the property to her cousin, for whiali a semi-
testamentary document given by her grandfather to
her uncle affords facilities. When Philip finds him-
self on the point of losing the lady, he begins to alter
his mind, but Annie to avoid his importunities flies
to London, and induces a further complication of
events of a totally unexpected character, and in
themselves almost sufficient to furnish material
for another novel. There is plenty of incident
here, as will be seen, and indeed our enumeration of
it only extends to the end of the second volume ;
but in spite of this, and of tolerably large print, the
work is a little tedious. There is nothing like
humour or piquancy of description, and the tone
throughout is rather matter-of fact. There is also a
great variety of subordinate characters who talk in
the Derbyshire language, which from the specimens
given appears to be a difficult one, and a black nurse
who speaks broad Scotch; and none of these people
say anything worth the trouble of decyphering. As
to the characters and coaduct of the story—the
squire's wrath goes beyond all probable limits, and
he influence of Lady Elizabeth in driving Frank
about and annoying him, and in getting his brother-
in-law's regiment kept in England in order that he
may continue to stand in his way, is grossly exag-
gerated even for the Circumlocution-office. The
servants are of that wonderfully benevolent and
devoted type of which we have not in these degene-
rate times much experience, and there is not much
evidence of observation of life in general. How-
ever, as circulating-library novels go, this is not
a bad one, and will, we daresay, be found readable
enough by those who are not disposed to be critical.
5. The " self-devotion " described in this story is
that of a sister for a brother. The latter, having been
heir to a large fortune, and aeoepted on the strength
Of it by a lady of noble birth, loses his wealth and is

OMMENI

346

and Co.

obliged to break off his engagement. His misfor-
tunes are increased by a quarrel with his rival, whom
he kills in a duel. Great part of the novel is taken
up with his endeavours to elude the consequences of
this act, which, though in a duel, was entirely acci-
dental, and with the exertions made by Katherine
to procure the evidence proper for his exculpation.
The matter is, however, brought to a trial, and, after
the usual period of agonizing suspense, the required
witness is produced, a verdict of " Not Guilty " is
returned, and the day ends with a sunset of the
brightest rose colour. Ine book is fairly well
written, and purports to have claims on rublic in-
terest as being the posthumous work of a lady whom
the editor assures us it would be superfluous to
praise. The general tone is romantic rather than
realistic, and occasionally betrays ignorance of real
life—as where a judge is described as "rising" to
address a jury; but good taste and good feeling are
evident throughout, and the reflections, which are
somewhat numerous, do not so much interrupt the
progress of the story as is common in ladies' novels.
We have seen many worse railway-books than
" Katherine Randolph."

A Personal Journal of the Siege of Luelinow. By
Captain IL P. Anderson. London : Thacker

EVERY original fact concerning the defence of Luck-
now is of value and interest. Captain Anderson
commanded an important outpost during the whole
siege, and for those five months, with eighteen men
and another officer—twenty men in all—that post was
never once wrested from them by the enemy, not-
withstanding that there were (9 pound) guns playing
on the spot day and night ; and several desperate and
well-sustained assaults were beaten back with suc-
cess. Captain Anderson writes like a soldier of all
the hardships he endured, but the loss of his com-
rades, one by one, day after day, was the greatest
trial of all. Writing on the spot, his notes have a
reality about them which lends a peculiar interest to
his vivid descriptions. The nights of the siege were
oppressively dreary :
We would sit for hours, expecting every moment to be
attacked. Officers would come round, and say, in a
solemn manner, " The brigadier requests you will be par-
ticularly on the alert." Here and there, by the glimmer
of a miserable lamp, you observed the pale, careworn faces
of half a dozen volunteers. One man loading his musket,
another looking at his pistol, and a third filling his cart-
ridge-box. One of the party would presently shoulder his
musket, and go off to stand on sentry, whilst another dived
down into our mine, to see that the enemy were not getting
under our house. Presently you would hear the sudden
cry of a sentry calling out, " that the enemy were ad-
vancing." Then came the rattle of musketry, followed by
the cry of " Turn out " on all sides. Now you hear the
grape strike against our batteries and earthworks; the
musket bullets fly over in showers; round shot come
throngh our walls ; and loud above all you distinguish the
sound of the enemy's clarions, and numberless bugles
blowing the "advance." Now and then, midst the roar of
artillery, you could hear elephants trumpeting as they
were made to drag heavy guns from position to position,
and the change of direction of a shot immediately after
told plainly that the enemy had moved a gun. We re-
mimed perfectly quiet too, generally, so that they might
not know how many we mustered. We let them fire
away, and waited patiently to listen if they were creeping
through the long grass that grew all around our intrench-
xnents, and strained our eyes to see in the darkness.
Every now and then we fancied we saw the figure of a
man, and then it seemed as suddenly to disappear. Some•
times the moon, shining cu the leaves of the castor-oil
tree, used to look like men's turbans, and more then once
we were induced to fire at them. Every now and then you
heard orders given to load the guns with " grape" over the
" round shot," and our men would be seen running for
hand grenades, &c., to be all ready in case of a rush at our
position. In the meantime you would see little streaks of
fire passing rapidly over your head, and some seemed as if
they were coming right down upon you. Then you sod-
denly heard a loud report, and the cry that followed told
you our shells were bursting amongst the enemy.
Sometimes single men would creep up to our in-
trenohments, and either try to spike our guns or to
seduce our Sikhs and sepoys

Before our first reinforcement arrived, our sepoys in the
inside had constant conversations with the mutineers.
Our men would say," What have you got now for being so
unfaithful? You had much better disperse." The muti,
nears woull reply, " What can we do? If we go to our
homes, the Feringees (Europeans) will hunt as to death;
it is better to remain here and die." Then they would say
to our men, "Leave the infidels, and come out, we'll give
you good food and plenty of it." Our sepoys would say,
We have eaten the Company's salt,—we cannot break
faith with our masters, like you hare." This answer ex-
asperated the mutineers, who would say, " You are as bad
as they are ; you have become vile Christians ; but, never
mind, we are off to kill all the men of your reinforcement ;
and when we return we will pay you off; we will not spare
a single man."

The Sikhs would take advantage of the opportunity
for conversation to " draw out " their friends:—

Once, at an outpost, a fellow came up and tried to make
our aepoys go over to the enemy; there was a sharp young
sentry on duty, and he quietly kept the man in talk whilst