The Press.
London, England, 1857-09-05 00:00:00

THE PRESS, SEPTEMBER 6, 1857.

Iu conclusion, our author adds :

Such were the men by whom Lord Canning was sur-
rounded on the outbreak of the mutiny. if they were as
a body vain, ignorant, and incompetent, truth compels me
to record that they could not have found a softer soil on
which to exercise their talents than that imbedded in the
nature of the Governor-General. He was a man of excel-
lent disposition, but weak and vacillating to a degree
scarcely to be imagined. It was his great misfortune to
be the son of an illustrious man. Qualities were there-
fore expected front him which he certainly did not inherit
from his sire. His abilities were essentially mediocre,
and, like many weak men, he almost invariably submitte I
his intellect to the influence of the last counsellor who
had his ear. He possessed, however, many agreeable qua•
lilies calculated to adorn a private station. His personal
courage was undeniable, but lie lacked firmness and self-
reliance to a degree which quite incapacitated him fur his
high position. Had lie been surrounded by men possess-
ing honesty and ability, he would doubtless have taken his
tone from them, and under their advice and tuition would
have shown himself equal to the occasion ; but, the slave
of intriguing and incompetent advisers, the shuttlecock of
Messrs. Grant, Beadon, and Birch, he gave an impetus to
a mutiny which might have been crushed in the bud.

Quits. A Novel. By the Baroness Taut-
phceus, Authoress of " The Initials." Lon-
don : Bentley.
LEONORA NIXON, the heroine of this story, is
the daughter of a Mr. Nixon, of City extrac-
tion, and a certain Lady Darwin, of aristocratic
connections. Her father, having run through
all his fortune, has lived principally on the
Continent, and brought up his daughter in
continental habits. She is left an orphan at
fifteen, and, returning to England, is adopted
by one of her city uncles, whose heiress she
ultimately becomes. She then joins the
family of another city uncle, in whose com-
pany she sets out on an excursion to the
Tyrol. Mr. Gilbert Nixon and her cousins
are persons bent upon rising in the English
world of fashion, and their half-successful
efforts, together with the ludicrous middle-
class prejudice and ignorance of the Pater-
familias, are made highly entertaining. While
abroad they fall in with a couple of wanderers,
a Count Waldemar and a Mr. Torp, the latter
of whom turns out to be the very person
whom Leonora conceived to have injured her
deeply on her first arrival in England. The
game played out between these two is, we
presume, the origin of the title of the story,
" Quits."
Such is the meagre outline of a very clever
and very fascinating story. The plot is excel-
lent. The accidental meeting of these two
people, each of whom had conceived a strong
prejudice against the other—their demeanour
while ignorant of each other's identity—the
gradual approaches to intimacy—the revela-
tion of the truth, first to the young lady, and
later to the gentleman—the growth of a
warmer feeling, &c. &c., are all depicted with
rare skill, and striking, because unexaggerated,
power. Of this department of the work we
can only say it is at once both natural and in-
teresting. The incidents, though uncommon,
are so managed as not to seem to violate
probability; and we ate kept in suspense
about the heroine's intentions up to the last
moment. The plot, then, is decidedly very
much above the average, but in the con-
duct of the story the author has unquestion•
ably lingered too long on particular portions.
The amours and quarrels of the Bavarian
peasants become wearisome at last.
The characters are remarkably well drawn,
but there are too many dummies. Arthur
Nixon and Sir Harry Darwin do not help on
the story at all, but Leonora, " Torp," and Mr.
Gilbert Nixon are capital portraitures. There
is one scene, in which the British merchant,
in a foreign inn, mistakes a doctor juris for a
doctor of medicine, which is highly comic, and
of which we subjoin a portion. The horror of
the fashionable Georgina, Nora's cousin, is
exquisite :
Nora did not wait to hear his answer; and no sooner
was he joined by his daughter than he approached Dr.
X—, and, having bowed in a pleasant, condescending
manner, drew a chair to the table arid sat down beside
him. imagining he wished to see" The Strangers' Book,"
the Doctor politely moved it towards him. Mr. Nixon
shook his head mournfully.
" Can I in any way be of use to you ?" asked the
Doctor, in French, vainly endeavouring to suppress a
Again Mr. Nixon shook his head, sighing out the words,
" English, English:"

876

" My father can only speak Engliali," explained Geor•
gins.

" Ah!" said the Doctor, leaning on his elbow, and
pausing for a moment before he added, " Well, I can
speak English. Du you wish me to interpret for you ?"
" Sir !" cried Mr. Nixon, with that feeling of relief
which only those who have heard unknown tongues spoken
around them fur some weeks can experience on again un•
expectedly hearing their own; " Str, I am delighted to
make your acquaintance!" and with a good-humoured
laugh be continued, " When I saw you reading these books
full of names to the company I desired my son to find out
who you were, and he has just now informed me that you
are the celebrated Dr. X—. I know, sir, that men of
your profession do not like to be asked for advice when
they are travelling for their amusement ; but, as they say,
' Necessity has no laws,' and ' Needs must when the devil
drives,' "

The Doctor turned to an acquaintance at the other side
of him, and muttered between his teeth " Mad, or not
mad?—that is the question."
"Now the fact is, Doctor," continued Mr. Nixon, "
have always been a remarkably healthy man, and though,
when our travelling-carriage was being built, I consented
to the portable medicine-chest, it was with the firm
belief that none of the patent medicines would ever find
their way down my throat. Now, my daughter, Miss
Nixon, is quite different—she likes medicine, and takes
her pill every night regular."
" Is it possible ?" asked the Doctor, slowly, and looking
with unfeigned astonishment at Georgina, whose face
became crimsonl; " is it possible you like eating pills ?"
"Papa is only jesting," she answered, in a voice tremu-
lous from vexation.

" Not a bit of it, Georgy. I assure you, Doetor, no
apothecary could manage the little scales. or weigh and
measure with greater nicety than my daughter; she can
make up pills, and—"
" Good night, papa," said Georgina, in that distinct,
quick manner, which is so very demonstrative of female
displeasure.

" Stay, Georgy, stay; I have only a few words to say
to the Doctor, and then we can go together."
She sat down at a little distance, slightly contracting
her brows, and biting her under lip, while her father
continued, in a low, confidential tone—" You must know,
Doctor, that late hours never did and never will agree
with me. I like living at the West•end, and being in
good society, amazingly; but only those who have been
brought up to it, like my son and daughter, can find
riding in the park, and dining at eight o'clock, and going
to evening swarries, quite easy and natural. I moved
too late in life, and can't get used to it, especially the
late hours ; so that I often wish myself back again in—
in—the street we used to live in, as my daughter says.
We knew many pleasant, sociable, people there, who dined
at rational hours, and better and more plentifully than
at more fashionable places. My father used to dine at
five o'clock ; by degrees, to please Mrs. Nixon, we got to
six o'clock ; my daughter has brought us on to seven or
eight ; and I suppose my grandchildren will dine at nine
or ten, as I have done to-day ! But it has disagreed with
me, Doctor—disagreed in the most uncomfortable manner.
Perhaps the walk up the Alp may have increased me
appetite—l may have eaten more than usual ; the fish
and the omelettes were good, the beer excellent, but the
wine was sourish; all Rhine wine is sourish. Give me
the curious old sherry, ever so many years in bottle, or
ev,-n Cape, good and clear, such as we used to drink
when alone in—in the street we used to live in. Now,
Doctor, you see, the late—the second dinner and the
wine having disagreed with me, I should be very much
obliged to you if you would tell me what I ought to take 0,
before I go to bed.
" Punch," said the Doctor, who had listened to him 4-
with undeviating attention. t ,
" Punch," repeated the Doctor, nodding his head. •c• 40,0/ 1
" Hush !" cried Mr. Nixon, with a wink and a geskir,
of his thumb towards his daughter, to whom he th•n
turned, and affectionately observed, " I say, Geor
am keeping yon up a great deal too long; y~u had
better not wait for me any longer;" adding in a, hisper,
" Uncommon clever man, this doctor ; he thildstaa I ought
to take something before Igo to bed, and just going
to prescribe fur me."
•
The character of " Torp" is Asarvellously
truthful. The good and bad po#l6' in the dis-
position of the genuine Enol4l aristocrat
have seldom been more dextrpuslv contrasted
or brought out in bolder relEof. His hard ex-
terior and internal inflammability are admi-
rably illustrated by his eveoy word and action ;
and his apotheosis of common sense, coupled
with his own desertion of her shrine, speaks
strongly for the author's knowledge of human
nature, and English human nature in partictt-
lar. Leonora is Akthatming anomaly—mascu-
line and feminine at the same time. In the
hands of a less accomplished artist she would
doubtless have become strongminded. She
just misses that odious virtue, and is a most
graceful and delightful personage.
The author's style is smooth and pleasant.
Her dialogue is natural, and the sentiments
appropriate to the speakers.
The moral of the tale is good, as showing
the utter impotence of the human will in con•
trolling the current of circumstance, and how

876

idle it is to form resolutions relating to a
lifetime while we have yet any time to live.