The Press.
London, England, 1857-09-12 00:00:00

THE PRESS, SEPTEMBER 12, 1857.

brown•coloured water. Modern geologists have been too
hasty in assuming that the high temperature of the Sum-
mers on the borders of the tropics is sufficient to prevent
accumulation of vegetable matter, as is the case in higher
latitudes, where in moist situations the natural vegetation
of one year does not rot away during the next. Sir C.
Lyall supposes the shade of trees is essential to the accu-
mulation of vegetable matter in an low a latitude as
34 deg., which is that of the Dismal Swamp, where there
is a deposit of peat from ten to fifteen feet in thickness.
But, according to Dr. Hooker, accumulation takes place
in the Jheels, which are on the borders of, or even within,
the tropics, where there are no trees. In another part of
his "Journal," he writes:—" The soil, which is sandy
along the Burrampooter, is more muddy and clayey in the
centre of the Jheels, with immense spungy accumulations
of vegetable matter in the marshes, through which we
poked the boat-staves without finding bottom; they were
for the most part formed of decomposed grass-roots, with
occasionally leaves, but no quantity of mossy or woody
plants." In fact, it appears that these accumulations of
vegetable matter, imparting a peculiar tinge to the water
in the Jheels, have as close a resemblance to our peat-
mosses as the different climatic conditions will admit of.
The decaying process is arrested in both cases ; and hence
it is probable that this circumstance is the cause of the
Jheels, as well as of the swamps of the Southern States, in
their natural condition being comparatively healthy, like
the peaty districts in Scotland.
In conclusion, we would say that this is
completely a farmer's book. It is essentially
practical, and deals with the districts de-
scribed entirely as places out of which so
much is to be got. Not that the author is
without sentiment or taste—a charge which
his chapters on Cuba would be sufficient to
disprove—but he has gone out for a certain
definite purpose, and that purpose, we make
bold to say, he has very fairly accomplished.
Subjoined as an appendix will be found
some valuable computations relative to the
winds, atmosphere, and general climate of the
regions described, and we cannot say more, in
conclusion, than that the work is an indis-
pensable adjunct to all persona practically
interested in the prospects afforded to our
countrymen by the vast area of land now
thrown open to Anglo-Saxon energy on the
" other side the Atlantic."

Farina. A Legend of Cologne. By George
Meredith, Author of " The Shaving of

Shagpat." London : Smith, Elder, and Co.
"GEORGE MEREDITH " appeals to the public
under a pseudonyme, and asks that. his writings
should be judged of for their own merits His
talents justify his commendable self-reliance.
His mind is still unformed ; he has fancy, and
the germs of creative imagination are plainly
discernible in his conceptions. He has grace-
ful utterance, and he writes with ease. The
humorous at present seems to be his vein ; and
we must caution him against the danger of
too much seeking after the quaint,—it is apt
to tire and sink into affectation, and is more
suitable to older authors. If he should con-
tinue to write fiction, we should wish, also,
that he would deliberately study human na-
ture. He has an artistic mind, and he is, we
think, equal to the construction of a story,
provided that he selected proper types for
description.
The present volume cannot be praised as
an improvement on its predecessor. It is
good of its kind, but it lacks the force and
freshness of " The Shaving of Shagpat." It
is a fable on " Farina," the renowned manu-
facturer of the eau associated with his name.
The story is told in legendary form, and is
rather spun out too much. Still, the compo-
sition has a true Rhenish flavour. The story
thus commences :

In those lusty ages when the Kaisers lifted high the
golden goblet of Aachen, and drank, elbow upwards, the
green-eyed wine of old romance, there lived, a bow-shot
from the bones of the Eleven Thousand Virgins and the
Three Holy Kings, a prosperous Rhinelander, by name
Gottlieb Uroschen, or, as it was sometimes ennobled, Gott-
lieb von Groschen ; than whom no wealthier merchant
bartered for the glory of his ancient mother-city, nor more
honoured burgess swallowed impartially red juice and white
under the shadow of his own lig-tree.
Vine-hills, among the hottest sun-bibbers of the
Rheingau, glistened in the roll of Gottlieb's possessions ;
corn-acres below Cologne; basalt-quarries about Linz;
mineral-springs in Nassau, a legacy of the Romans to the
genius and enterprise of the first of German traders. He
could have bought up every hawking creg, owner and all,
from Hatto's Tuwer to Rheineck. Lore ley, combing her
yellow locks against the night-cloud, beheld old Gottlieb's
rafts endlessly stealing on the moonlight through the iron
pass she peoples above St. Goar. A wailful host were
the wives of his nauseam widowed there by hex watery
intisl9.

Farina, the hero of the volume, is thus intro-
duced :

The chief members of the White Rose Club were
Berthold Schmidt, the rich goldsmith's son ; Dietrich
Schill, son of the imperial saddler; Heinrich Abt, Franz
Endermann, and Ernst Geller, sons of chief burghers, each
of whom carried a yard-long scroll in his cap, and was
much too disfigured in person for men to require any in.
spection of the document. They were dangerous youths
to meet, for the oaths, ceternonies, and recantations they
demanded from every wayfarer under the rank of baron
were what few might satisfactorily perform, if lovers of
woman other than the fair Margarita, or loyal husbands;
and what none save trained heads and stomachs could
withstand, however naturally manful. The captain of the
club was he who could drink most beer without inter-
mediate sighing, and whose face reckoned the proudest
number of slices and mixture of colours. The captaincy
was most in dispute between Dietrich Schill and Berthold
Schmidt, who in the heat and constancy of contention
were gradually losing likeness to man. " Good coin,'
they gloried to reflect, " needs no stamp."
One youth in Cologne held out against the standing
tyranny, and chose to do beauty homage in his own fashion,
and at his leisure. It was Farina, and deadly oaths were
registered against him over empty beer-barrels. An axiom
of the White Rose Clublaid it down that everybody must
be enamoured of Margarita, and the conscience of the club
made them trebly suspicious of those who were not.
members. They bad the consolation of knowing that
Farina was poor, but then he was affirmed a student of
Black Arts, and from such a one the worst might reasonably
be feared. He might bewitch Margarita !
There are various kinds of wine served at
the hostelries along the banks of the Rhine,
and, unlike the vintage of more southern lands,
the flavour of the first glass is almost enough
to decide the peculiar quality of the wine. So
with " Farina.' These extracts show its un-
reality and its playful irony. The origin of
the dreadful smells that infest Cologne is
thus archly accounted for:-
- It was noon when Farina came clattering down from
the camp.
" Father," said he, " I have sought thee."
"My son," exclaimed Monk Gregory with silencing
hand, " thou didst not well to leave me contending against
the tongues of doubt. Answer me not. The maiden!
and what weighed she in such a scale ?—No more ! lam
punished. Well speaks the ancient proverb :

Beware the back•blows of Sathanas !
I that thought to have vanquished him! Vanity has
wrecked me in this world and the next. lam the victim
of self-incense. I hear the demons shouting their chorus
—' here comes Monk Gregory, who called himself Cull-
querer of Darkness !' In the camp lam discredited mod
a scoff; in the city lam spat upon, abhorred. Satlianas,
my son., fights nut with his foreclaws. 'Tis with his tail
he fights, 0 Farina !—Listen, my son ! he entered to his
kingdom below through Cologne, even under the stones of
the Cathedral Square, and the stench of him abominably
remained), challenging the nostrils of holy and unholy
alike. The Kaiser cannot approach for him ; the citizens
are outraged.

And the moral, if such it can be called, is thus
seen in the conclusion :

The shadow of Monk Gregory was seen no more in
Cologne. He entered the calendar, and ranks next St.
Anthony. For three successive centuries the town of
Rhineland boasted his visits in the flesh, and the conqueror
of Sathanas caused dire Rhenish feuds.

Sathanas repeated his famous Ilack•blow on Farina.
TL•e youth awoke one morning and beheld warehouses the
exact pattern of his own, displaying Husks shaped even as
his own, and twelve Farinas to right and left of him. In
a week they were doubled. A month quadrupled them.
They increased.
" Fame and Fortune," mused Farina, " come from man
and the world. Love is from heaven. We may be worthy,
and lose the first. We lose not love unless unworthy.
Would ye know the true Farina? Look for him who
walks under the seal of bliss : whose darling is for ever
his young sweet bride, leading him from snares, priming
his soul with celestial freshness. There is no hypocrisy
can ape that aspect. Least of all the creatures of Seam-
nes ! By this I may be known."
Seven years after, when the Goshawk came into Cologne
to see old friends, and drink some of Gottlieb's oldest
Rddesheimer, he was waylaid fifty tim4s by false Farinas,
and only discovered the true one at last by chance in the
music gardens near the Rhine, where Farina sat, having
on one hand Margarita, and at his feet three boys and one
girl, over whom both bent lovingly, like the parent vine
fondling its grape•bunches in summer light.

It would not answer to publish too much of
this kind of writing, and when next we meet
with " George Meredith," we hope that it will
be on a more real subject, worthy of his most
promising talents and his graceful pen.

Sinai, the lledjaz, and Soudan. Wanderings
Around the Birthplace of the Prophet, and
Across the 'Ethiopian Desert, from Sawaki
to Chartum. By James Hamilton. Lon-
don : Bentley.
Boat Life in Egypt and Nubia. By W. C. Prime.
London : Sampson Low and Co.
A GOOD book of travel is a much rarer thing
than, perlisps, is commonly supposed. How