The Press.
London, England, 1853-11-05 00:00:00

THE PRESS.

" I don't know, but I should, " said the boy. " I'm
always thinking of the dark night, and the silence, and the
lantern gleaming, and the soldiers bending over him.
• No uselern eutlin .•oufiue'l his bream,
Nor in sheet nor iu shroud w I hum ;
lint he lay like a warrior takiise his rest,
With his martial cloak around hiw.•
Wasn't that grand ? "
I thought there was a grandeur about the child himself
as he stood with flashing eyes, his cheek paling and his lip
quivering with emotion.

Our readers will agree with us that a writer
who can paint with such spirit has talents fur
beyond the average. We must now give some
specimens of the partial way in which the
authoress looks at life in England :
Everything I heard corroborated the fact that the rich
and the middle classes, while they make use of the poor
for their own convenience and of necessity, hold them
aloof, as something loathsome to the sight and touch ; and,
much stronger in their prejudices than any she/ambler ever
was ( for he does not shrink with horror and disgust front
the human chattel that lie buys and sells), produce in
Englund such a wide line of demarcat• —not between
vice told virtue, ignorance and knowledge, talent and Unite-
eility, but between poverty and wealth, us is met with
nowhere else on the broad earth amongst creatures of the
Milne spirit and clay. I cannot lie solitary in my belief
that this system is highly favourable to the growth of infi-
delity. The 'tamper who cannot leant front parish chap-
lulus that he may one day sit down in the kingdom with a
lord or duke, or, to strain a point, even with a prince or
king, may by chance seize the idea that Christ will be less
fastidious ; but the degradation of his state has eaten
into his anal and made it abject, so that he entertains more
reverence for, and more fear of, a wealthy and influential
Min in the world, than he possibly can entertain towards
(ital. It is the same with the slaves of both sexes, who
fancy that they are independent because that they are free to
drudge, as no slave ever did, for a pittance too meagre to
sustain half a life, or to lie down in their garrets and cellars
and the at once.

The book abounds in similar passages of
invective against the whole spirit of English
life. We could never suppose it to be written
by a genuine Englishwoman. We fancied it,
at first, to be the production of an Irishwo-
man and a Roman Catholic, but the manner
in which Romanism and the priests figure in
the second volume removes the latter part of
the impression. We can imagine the daughter
of one of the fallen Protestant fiunilies in Ire-
land, compelled to eat the bitter bread of ad-
versity, and galled by humble employment,
thus venting her scorn in such a work as
Margaret; or, Prejudice at home." The en-
thusiasm excited by Mrs. Stowe's " Uncle
Toni" has evidently roused the gall of this
writer. One of the best things in the work
is the description of an " anti-shivery" meet-
ing, in writing of which the authoress gives
fall rein to her sarcastic talent :
But outward show 'mob. little impression upon me. In
tl gist, I tore down the gay trapping% and stripped that
gorgeonsly.attired assembly to heart's cure, ajid
W
bition VII, swirl Wild sudden desalt. Mere to "saw and
annihilate all that was mot genuine around me. That much
was spur' s was evident a gh in the 1111 l el' fit all.
Taking my ideas of Christian courtesy from books rather
than men, the excessive politeness of polite people
gat themselves struck Ms. as being at once vulgar
and haollow. I thought so on that day. when I witnessed
nmeh cringing I bowing, accompanied by uu idiotic
o.4aart of . •1 MI the ColltaelifilleeS of the mot: so
affctation, anal fluttering about, and ready smiling. and
majestic sweeping of pi d heads amongst the woollen.
A tery important•looking, middle-aged gentleman, laurry
ing past me lotion. I had yet tumid a scat, gave me a
ridden push that sent the two or three paces forward, 111111
a card which I had in any hand fell to the floor. Ile
Wined round with an impatient Wanec that lighted upon
me and the card too, and then hurried on. Ile had evi-
dently comprehended in an instant of t. • that I did not
belong to that grade of ~ociety to which Ins attentions were
exclusively. due ; therefore he offered no apoloi.,,y, and left
me to pick up the card. 1 ',et my foot upon it : and from
that pedestal, with the thoughts that were then upon use,
I could have uttered more startling truth% than met my
ear through the day : for then- was nothing so monstrous
in the fact of bail men boldly remevering in an evil count'`,
as appeared in the) •ly contradictions practised by those
pretending to abound in Christian' love, Mid humility, and
charity; practised too. in. broad daylight, as a matter of
course. and COWlllelltCll 111,1,11 by mane, unless by some
sorb illsigiiilirawt Obat.llcl' Rs myself, whose private
opinion went for nothing. and whose aggrieved feeling
stood no chance of notice from the world.
The merits of " Margaret" are the great
varieties of life sketched by the authoress. It
is too full of dreary thoughts and dismal pic-
tures to charm as a fiction. Its horrors are
unrelieved by bright scenes. There is no
sweetness in the writer's attempts at pathos ;
she rouses, but does not fascinate; she argues.
but does not convince. We admit her talents,
without admiring them. and, though we have
read her adventures with attention, we would
almost willingly forget them. Yet its ability

SATURDAY,

places it so far above the Minerva Press rub-
bish that litters our circulating libraries, that,
with the drawbacks we have intimated, we
may direct our reader's attention to " Margaret;
or, Prejudice at Home."

The Romance of Military Life. By Lieutenant-
Colonel Cameron, Author of "Adventures
in Georgia," &e., &c. London :G. Cox.
Twomunns of this volume are occupied with
a very extraordinary story called " Harcourt,"
which in the hands of a practised novelist
would have made " a romantic tale of thrilling
interest." It is apparently founded on fact,
but it is presented hero with the colour of
fiction, and, as Colonel Cameron is not a skilful
wtiter, we should have preferred the sketch of
" Harcourt's" actual life to this inartistic por-
traiture. The author introduces this tale with
the t*ollowing preface :
I have mentioned that I am indebted for the details it
contains to a brother officer with whom I was formerly
associated on a particular service. A period of twelve
years has elapsed since he imparted to me the incidents it
embodies, but in the early part of 114.50 I saw in an
English newspaper an extract from a French official
journal, published by order of the Judicial Tribunal in
one of the northern departments (in all probability for
the purpose of affiording general information upou the sub-
ject, to enable any other claimants that might be in
existence to come forward ), stating, that demands had
been made, and inquiries instituted by distant relative*
(or foreigners who declared themselves to be such), re-
garding several large stuns of money, and other funds,
derived from the property of an officer who had served in
the armies of France with considerable distinction up to
the period of the Consulate, when, owing to a domestic
calamity of a frightful and must painful nature, which
entailed the tieceasity of his being confined in a 'liaison de
tante, from which he subsequently succeeded in escaping,
the amount in question, no out coming forward to estab-
lish any right to its succession, had been appropriated by
the Liovernment.
The story opens with a description of that
fatuous siege of Toulon at which young Napo-
leon Bonaparte so much distinguished himself.
Harcourt," an English exile, under romantic
circumstances, meets with Bonaparte and be-
comes attached to his fortunes. Ile rises in
the army, and covers himself with honour at
the loattle of Marengo. These introductory
incidents of " an Englishman" fighting against
his native laud appear so startling as to out •
rage reality ; but it appears subsequently that
" Harcourt " was an hishann, and a Roman
Catholic, who fled from Ireland to avoid the
consequences of a penal crime. His early
vicissitudes are thus told :
la early life, a being,—almost the last of an ancient
name and lineage, but of impoverished fortunes,—had his
prospects of the future blighted by an involuntary homi-
cide, committed under eircinnstances of absolute self-
defence. His adversary, however, was as rich and power-
ful as he was poor and friendless; and he was compelled
lo endure a life of exile, poverty, and misery, or incur the
risk of an unjust and ignominious end. He sought for
refuge in a land which had risen against its blood-stained
a ao's, and there chanice directed him to the notice of the
ivonderful icing whose name and renown now fills tho
whole of Europe. and who was destined to restore order
to his distracted country by crushing anarchy and misrule
'beneath his iron sway. With generous kindness he
bympathised with the unfortunate exile, and attached hint
to his futilities. Under his auspicious friendship he soon
rose to rank and distinction; and, though serving in the
ranks arrayed in more than common hostility against the
government and country to which he owed allegiance, it
was ever understood that he should never be rolled upon
to serve against those possessing the ties of blood and
Winked with himself.
After rising to command in the French ser-
vice, Harcourt, while serving in the army of
Italy, rescues the beautiful Virginia de Melzi
and her father from a party of French
marauders. He manies the lady, who becomes
one of the ornaments at the Imperial court of
Napoleon. At a military review at Paris her
horse takes fright, and Virginia Harcourt is
killed on the spot, and her husband goes mad.
We are then introduced to " a low, rakish
schooner' (an article that, since the time of
Mr. Cooper, seems to have been patented for
the use of novelists in distress for incident),
and on board this suspicious craft is " Mad
Ned," tdias Harcourt, of whom the pirates
;stand in superstitious awe. He subsequently
escapes to the Dutch settlements at the Cape
then proceeds to India, where he takes service
under Holkar, rises to high command, storms
a hill fortress, releases more ladies in peril,
and falls under the displeasure of a native
ruler who seeks to exterminate him. He next
flies for life, awl passes through various pails,