The Press.
London, England, 1853-12-17 00:00:00

i
J

DECEMBER 17, 1853.

littraturt.

The Twin Sisters. A Novel. By Lucy Field.
London : John Chapman.
Ora fair readers, we are afraid, will be pre-
judiced against this novel when we inform
them that the authoress endeavours to extract
pathos from the miseries of a governess and a
drawing-mistress ! Spiritualised uiggers, and
sentimental professors of birch and backboards.
have certainly had a full share of literary sym-
pathy. When Byron published his verses on
matrimonial unhappiness it was wittily said by
Curran, " His lordship weeps for his wife, and
wipes his eyes with the newspapers." In a
similar manner it would appear that the tears
of governesses are to be dried in the circu-
lating libraries.
The Twin Sisters " is a good novel of its
particular class, and the talents of the writer
would appear to much greater advantage on
a less hackneyed theme. But in justice to
the authoress we must record that she has
woven together a strong plot, with contrasts of
character and considerable variety of incident.
Her twin sisters she has baptised with the
romantic names of " Amy and Inez Courtney."
Our readers will not expect to be told which
is the dark sister with the impassioned nature,
and which is the gentle one with the softer
style of beauty. These pretty twins fidl under
the dominion of a stepmother who realises all
the traditional harshness so unjustly ascribed
to that relationship. Pecuniary difficulties
overtake the family, and the sisters have to
separate and encounter the hard struggle for
bread. The authoress does not offend us with
any dreary descriptions of long physical suf-
ferings, nor does she, like some hedonists, seek
to produce pathos by heartrending details of
what we may cull the agonies of impecuniosity.
She has good sense enough to know that these
coarser appeals to feeling are offensive in a class
of works written to amuse and please The
vicissitudes of her heroines fire made to arise
from hearts too full rather than from purses
too empty. Sought after by various suitors,
both of them make mistakes in placing their
affections, one of them (we will not say which)
iu a manner that cannot be remedied. Their
fortunes are related with some skill in the art
of storytelling ; the various personages of the
tale arc well described ; and there is an unex-
aggerated view of life taken throughout.
But these merits are not enough to make a
brilliant novel. " The Twin Sisters " is a story
that should be told with passion ; its scenes
should be tinted with the lienuine tumult of a
poetical titney; its descriptions should be vivi-
fied with more intensity than can come from
a correct rhetoric that never falters and never
fitseinates, never stumbles and never soars.
The strong story should be supported by a
stirring style. "The Twin Sisters" has many
incidents requiring sensibility in the reader.
and the authoress, with all her good sense and
talent, is too calm and rational to be carried
away by her conceptions of character, for as
yet she has not given us creations. But we
will allow our readers to judge for themselves.
Before her pecuniary difficulties begin Inez.
Courtney meets a gentleman at a concert-room,
in the manner thus described :
They conid find. however, but one vacant seat, in which
Aunt Maggie would tain have placed her niece, but Inez
would not hear of it. and, leaving it to the elder lady, she
herself remained standing with her uncle. Her figure was
l'OnSideriallY above the common height, which circum-
stance, together with her remarkable beauty, made her
very conspicuous as she stood thus ; nud her aunt was more
than once i.,,ratitied by overbearing Malay whispered ewe).
hams and inquiries among her neighbours as the name of
her young relative. Some of these remarks. she was con-
vinced, must have also readied the ear of their object, as
indeed they bail, yet without eonveying any of the pleasure
which her simple-minden chaperon conceived they moat

impart.
'l'he►e are. probably. few very liana some people who are not
awa►e of the tact, though an equal share of clear-sightedness
re►iaiul)• does not always belong to the larger class of
those who have no personal charms to boast. Yet, though
Inez knew she was cery lovely, the knowledge of it gave
her little gratification. Tiers was not a character to value
or &aim pnimiscuotts admiration : her deep and passionate
►nature rather thirsted to meet with its like than sought or
valued the adulation of the crowd.
Conseions of and annoyed by the many observing and
tolmirint: looks she now everywhere encountered, her
rhea tln.hesl ever deeper and deeper as she sought in
stint Jo: s•:m►i• place where she might take refuge, and i►►

THE PRESS.

her search she met the eye of a gentleman seated at a
little distance before them. His intellectual bniw and fine
expressive features caught and fixed her wandering anvil
tion, and something in his whole tare wonderfully im-
pressed her imagination, even in that fleeting glance. As
she was quickly withdrawing her gaze, however, her notice
was reedited by his rising from his seat and tittering it.
a polite gesture. to her acceptanec.
The obliging gentleman now stand,. Mark
what follows, described ns taking place in a
public concert-room :
When I trial came forward. struck l' her air and appear.
ance, she turned to inquire of her uncle if this was
the great singer ; but he could give her no informal lOU
Her neighbour, however, seemed to divine the drift of het
question : and, git Mg her his concert bill, hr pMinted h.
the celebrated name. 'hinting to thaiik him, Inez felt
again the indescribable charm of the countenance on which
she looked. Nor With the charm lessened by the expression
of earnest and respectful attention mid admiration it won
as he addressed her.

Orisi sang, and for the time there WRS p 5.111 for in. ot
01101 it )11 1111111 delight. The NOW was pill het ie. 1.4 M
to touch many listeners even whose hearts were used to no
melting mood. and over whose feelings years had 111 M
their sober hues ; lint, to the musical taste, and sensitiic.
impassioned, hid till. of Inez, this delight ted to
ecstasy so intense that it strangely resembled
The strain ceased, 10111t1 plaudits shook the room ;
AS they died away, Inez drew her breath with It quivering
sigh, which was almost a S4lll. lier emotion did nut pass
tuudiserVed by her attentive neighbour; but he did not
obtrude upon her at the moment : and as 4110111cl' Wail
uluthrr singer came forward the young listemr.s hits
again grew calm.
111 all interval of silence the stranger iilwe noire oil
dressed her.

" Did you ever hear liri.i before. " ti
ht., in a %Viet' Mil manner which curit-spoioled w.ll o ith
his high-bred air.
" Never," replied she. again looking lip.
" 1 do nut lirik you how yost like her singing," he 4.4 u•
tin liedsmilingly: " 1 saw how much you were pleased."
" I was, indeed' It is ! ' answered
Inez ; mid the enthusiasm (oilier own %vim. called a deep
blush to her cheek.

The unknown made no immediate mph •; and Klee prt,
sently ventured to expresa her teur that he would lie tired
of standing.
Not in the least ; pray do not give it a thought," re.
plied he, with eager politenems.
" It is exquisite—divine !" rather strong
language for a young English gentlewoman to
have uttered to a stranger of the mule sex in
a concert-room. We could cite other mistakes
of a similar kind which show that this au-
thoress, like other female writers, knows inure
of the world than of " life." But these and
similar passages do not very often occur, and
on the whole a tone of reality is maintained.
Wewill allow the authoress, through the lips
of the harsh stepmother—Mrs. Courtney—to
describe " what governesses have to expect "

Governesses very seldom do marry ; and, at all events,
they have no business to be thinking of it. 101 l Will tout
it WCelliiiitly to very OriginOillVet, I ran tell you. and no
to launch out in the strain you adopted just now. Talk
of finding a husband awl you are turned out of the lams*
at once : no mother would bear it, of course not, nor ought
she ; she pays you to teach her children, and if you do not
give yourself up to thut it is just the same as cheating her
of her money—just the seine.
Then remember that governesses should 1 very realest
and careful in their dress : as a general rule, I should soy
straw bonnets, high dresses, and washing gloves, form the
fitting style tier their Is smart, of (*UMW.
AD to manners, 1 always required my girls' governesses to
rise and place chairs when any of the family came into the
room. You will 110 Well to minember these hints. Neva
begin a subject yourselves. As a general rule, it is best
to answer when you are spoken to, and to keep quiet mostly
at other times. Governesses are always in the may, except
in the schoolroom ; but yet holies like to show they hurt
a governess; so you will, of course, have to appear web.
»lousily in the drawing-room. liut as a general ntle pat
will do well to bear in mind that goverricsiasi are always ill
the was', and shape you behaviour accordingly.
After Inez goes out as a governess slits meets
Mr. Willoughby, her acquaintance of the con-
cert-room. After some more raptures about
music Inez retires to her schoolroom, awl the
state of her feelings arc thus described in one
of the best passages in the novel :

Inez meanwhile bad sought refuge in the schoolroom.
ritually it wore a dull enough aspect in her eyes, and, like
most of such apartment devoted in pnvate houses to the
studies of the gar members of the family, it was fur.
Dished in the plainest and must unattractive mt)le. Now,
however, a flisid of glory seemed before her eyes whichever
say she turned ; and she located herself mechanically in
her accustomed place, unconscious of the holm of her
pupil's absence, of everything besides the indefinable but
exquisite sensations of her own heart.
Thus she sat, heedless of how li•tag, till Pont flew breath•
less in.

Dear Miss Courtney !" said she, pleadingly, when she
saw her governess apparently awaiting her anital, " I alit
very late, but, nuked, I quite forgot."
to this confession the governess herself tuieht 1..
have responded; but she only gathered n .iini
nes% from the little girl's words. which ittuinded
open the books, and lemons began.

Dora was seldom inattentive, and for some time Ilho now
worlic.l away diligently, to make up for the lost time ; but,
perhaps influenced iniconseionsly by the ileteeptien that
%Its, t sourtneys mind was not in their emplo)itiet.t, her
aat tent ion relaxed, end, sudden!) %tallying in the. initial.
of a sentence, she fixed her eye% on the feet, of %WI eons.
paui u, and remarked abruptly,
I do so love Mr. Willoughby !
" Well, !to On with your lesson now," said Iner, unable
to repress it smile, Wilidt Clleaturaged little pupil to
disobey her injunctions.
" Ile likes me to call him' Charles; pursued the child ;
•• ,Inlia chooses 1044111 him • Mr. Willoughby ; but he likes
to he called • i hark... best—lie told we so.-

Inez listened Milt' nu engetilesti unite tlimproportiortatte
to the ttitlitn.: nature ..t the co nautinietttion : •Ito ‘‘lt%
teaming by that nothing t% it n hleh eon
venom the vise 1)11'8111011111 111101'1.ra of the 10111. SllO MO*
A 1101101" i'lioll 10 Et`,olllll` 111t.11'14.011,111 but et %atllt•
out ~trees I hnd slot milotitoleitell her mind or
,iimething 1.111111 ..he t.:.. 11111( alma of tni,llllf. et
4,0041 not keep In ltt•rtielf.
AVltot pnt think 311.. \Villotighby %mil of tiott,

•• t•%er timid, replied liter, It, no: to foot it owl to look
iitiliticreut. Hut the 1..”'ofkt, oi.tl I 'orift tow
she Might proct•cit.
kit' says you 111.1. til4l putty t4l I. agm 4.111c,•s "
Thigtiuu ihrfrii%%ll kits guitiiiio• enough. atoll the eon•
tumid riti• Ilthrlitiiill Very seriiiii* 1.4,5%,11. •halo
0111) Whiled uuarcl.isi.l% to lire, and went till.
1 141141 I 11441- , eery chuff 1 11111 tun it..• my ginel•
u.... 1 that ore pllll'
~1* the tuigul iii the thou tug room ; owl 1 full him ham
ham 1 MU uutt 'Mt or,. licit, MO ho t% kind butt use ; and
;ts, kisstol sue, anti Kohl I kit. a hteky 111114 girl. tot mu
Ilut atigTy with 1111', 11111 414111 \111.04 I soktitilry
" I 11111 %.ery gliml I Intike itiippier, lily hi‘s.," 411,411Verrill
!WV, with a 1•111111• 111141 n sigh ; thrn, in
tillIt• for eVelVillili.:. 'till lillist inure
tom."

glooved to pre •-• Il kI tot the little. tiler %Ml+
lI~IL el :fit‘itttisly IT 111 Iwo. nun : owl Ihirm,tlititrivant.itieti
timrk 44111141.1 t on •Itt• teal ittti ttilt rreesir Mont
Itt.t. pain„ goicrocss, .it ICU% to the task Isolisre

In her next novel we hope that thin deer
%%Titer will introduce us to newer ammeter%
ihan are to he found in " The Twi n Sisters."

.1 Norratire of Trarehe •iH the .lesia:em find Rio
Negro. By A. 1:. IValbleo. London: Item..

and co.
THY. public hits been (overdone with travels,
but not with travels of this class. Mr. SVal.
lace is it natuntlist, and, after four years spent
in collecting specimens and infiormation on
the banks of the Amazon, he hots a fair right
to report his experience of a country in which
he has invested so much time and labour.
His wanderings extended from Pa-it to Mu-
cirri, On the ltio Negro, in long. I west, it
dist(tnee of more than two thousand miles,
when the windings of the river are taken into
account, some part of the voyage being through
territory wholly unvisited by Europeans. The
narrative is simple, and generally concise,
though imperfect from loss of materials in a
shipwreck which the author underwent on his
homeward route.

Mr. Wallace stands, We think, alone among
travellers in depreciating the beauty of a trol►i-
eal climate. The forests were lefts green, the
vegetation less luxuriant, than glowing de-
seription►l hail taught him to expect. He
argues that under all equatorial !Mil the
change of seasons is unfelt, Whence a mono-
tonous aspect prevail, ; that " green meadows
and rich pastures " are %yawing, which in the
Amazonian forests is d►'►llltless true enough ;
and that the modeiate warmth and frequent
showers of temperate regions are more favour
able to vegetalde developments than excess
of heat and moisture :

Humboldt, in Irls " Aspects of Nature," repeatedly
rPIIIIIIIIII on the contrast between the steppes of Tartary
auti the Ilanov of the orinooko. The former, in the
temperate :cone, are gay with the moat brilliant Mitten ;
while the hitter, in the tropics, raluee little but grassiest
and sedges, Hll4l bill few 111141 1114-44114.1,i4•114411.4 floweri rig
plants. Mr. I tonsils mein' the lirillimney of the
flowers adornin^ the plains of Monte Video, winch, with
the luxuriant thistles of the Pampas, helms hardly
equalled in the rampos of tropical Brazil, where, with
some exeeptiine4, the earth iv blown rind sterile. 'floe
countless beautiful gerisliii3lis 14 is4l livntles of the ('ale
relthe on entering the 114.1.ie,. and we lune no account lor
any plants equally willow. runt I rilliatrt •iippl)ing their

Anil once again Mr. ‘Vafleiet! eutititittes the
rt.ntilist more elaborat► ly. doing justice, never-
theleNs. to the countries in which he was so
long a wanderer :

It is on ruatisidu and i u the river~' banks that n•
'an the. le•Hoity ..1 oupical tegvistion. There se
lied a on WIN of im.lies and elinilet and trees 11f evel7

height, rising over olio another, all exposed to the bright
light and the fr sh air; and putting With, within reach,
their Dowers and fruit, which, in the forest, only grow far
up on the topmost branches. Bright flowers and green
foliage cond./v.O their charms, and climbers with their
flowery festoon. cover over the hare and decaying stems.
Yet, p.eit out the loveliest spots where the must
gorgeons flowers of the tropics expand their glowing petals,
awl fur every ~cone of this kind we may flint another at
horns of equal beauty, and with a►► equal amount of brilliant
colour.
Look at a Geld of bottercups and duisies,—a hilhide
covered with gorse and hroom,—a mountain rich with
purple heather,rur a furost•glade, &Aunt with a carpet of
will hyacinths. and they will bear• a comparison any
some the tropics call produce. 1 have nevor sc-en any.
thing Inure glorious thou au old crah•trae in full b!ossoni ;
and the horse•uhesnut, Blue, and laburnum will vin with
the shoiee4t trupit•sl titre and slu•ubs. 111 the tropical
waters aro no wort, beautiful plants titan our white and
yellow water•lilies, our irises, and flowering rush; for I
cannot consider die flower of the regiu more
bountiful tiiftn that of the Nymplifra rella, though it may be
Pirger ; nor is it so abundant all or►►anient of the tropical
Yelktani as the latter is of ours.

Wo should he heartily glad to acquiesce in a
conclusion tints favourable to England ; but,
writing by the dim light of a December after-
noon. we cannot in conscience sacrifice our
testhetic perception's to our patriotism. It is
true that there are days on which the varieties
of English landscape, fully illuminated, equal
in pictorial effect those which any climate can
show ; but these days are rare; even during
sumtner months they form the exception, not
the rule ; while nothing except the brief in-
terval of the rainy season intervenes to disturb
the unclouded horizon of Brazil. It is a more
just complaint that superfluity of sun and
rain deprives fruits of their savour and tloWerB
of scent.

The basin of the Amazon is not only the
most extensive f,,rest but one of the largest
plains iu the world. Unbroken by mountains,
it stretches over three-fourths of South America
in its broadest parts. For one thousand miles
westward front the Atlantic its average lvidth
front north to south may be reckoned at four
hundred miles. Towards the Cordillera its
boundaries enlarge, and, from a point near
Tabatinga, on the Solinmes or Upper Amazon,
a circle may be drawn of eleven hundred
miles diameter, which shall pass through no-
thing except uncultivated and, for the most
part, untratversed woodland. No other quarter
of the globe resembles it in this respect India
and China are densely peopled, and bare of
trees for the most part ; the prairies of the
Mississippi and the Tortarian steppes can
scareely supply a passing traveller with fuel ;
the interior of Afriea, so far as we know it, is
rugged, and interspersed rather than covered
with forest. A century more, and these un-
trodden solitudes may have become what Now
York and Pennsylvania ore now. Yet one
physical problem must first be solved—that
of ieuonciling the Anglo-Saxon eonstitution to
residence and labour under the line.

Of the dominant race of Brazil, the Portu-
guese, Arr. Wallace speaks favourably in many
respect's. Slavery among them, so fir as he
saw it, was result due in part to the
temperament of the nai ters. in part also to
their dispersion over the country, separated
from one another by wilb• intervals. which
',lasses them physically in the power of their
dependent's. Violent crime is rare. ;as witness
the following description of Para:—

Nothing impressed me more than the (inlet and
orderly state of the city nud neighbourhood. No class
of people earry knives or other weapons, and there is
less noise, fighting, or drunkenness W the streets. hoth
flay and night, than in nn•v town in England of equal
population. When it is retnembert d that the population
is mostly uneduoated, that it consists of slaves, Indians.
Portuguese, and fltreigners, and that rum is
hold At every corner at about twopence per pint, It says
touch for the good nature and pacific disposition of the
t,onple.

. _
But in►lolence prevails a►nong all classes :
much time is wasted in feast when a cessation
nt all work takes place, and ►lrunkenness and
Profligacy abound. Of the habitual supersti-
tion, credulity, and ignorance of the people,
3ir. Wallace gives numerous details. Truth,
likewise, is a virtue not much in request

On November 13th 1 reached the sitio of Senhor
Chips, where I stopped for the night : hr gave me tome
lethrs to take up to Sao Gabriel, and just at I was going
requested nie, as a &your, to tell evertbotly that 1 '•'.l
not found him at his aitin, but that lie was g.m
" mato "to pot salsa. As I was on familiar terms Ii
him, 1 told him that really I was very sorry 1 emil.l not
oblige him. hut that, is 1 was not accustomed to lying,

THE PRESS.

I should he round out immediately if I attempted it : he,
however, insisted that 1 might surely try, and I should
soon learn to lie as well as the best of them. do I told
him at once that in my country a liar was considered as
bad as a thief; at which he seemed rather astonished.
gave him a short account of the pillory AS a proof
of how much our ancestors &nested king and perjury,
which much edified him, and he called his sun (a nice
boy of twelve or fourteen, just retunied from school), to
hear and profit by the example ; showing, I think, that
the people here are perfectly aware of the moral enormity
of the practice, but that constant habit and universal
custom, and, above all, that false politeness which
readers them unable verbally to deny anything, has ren-
dered it almost a necelsary evil. Any native of the
country would have instantly agreed to tlenhur Chigaa's
request, and would then have told every one of it up
the river, always begging them not to say he told them,
thus telling a lie for themael•es instead of for Seuhor
Chagas.

Our author stmngly disputes the accuracy
of prevailing theories respecting the difficulty
of cultivating tropical soil. Land once tho-
roughly cleared, and the weeds upon it de-
stroyed, may be kept in order with little trou-
ble. Cattle alone will suffice to prevent the
growth of bush. The grasses, he says, grow
well (this we incline to doubt). Fruit abounds,
coffee and cacao may both be raised with little
labour, Indian corn and rice require no care
beyond that of planting. Manure is unneces-
sary : oxen, sheep, and pigs are turned loose
into the woods, and get their living without
trouble. What more can a farmer desire?
Nevertheless, Brazilian apathy abuses, or
rather does not use at all, these gifts of nature.
So in the world's history it has ever been—
barren lands and vigorous climates have pro-
duced the fighting and working races ; for
thus the spirit of nations is renovated, and
(hod's gifts fall to those who can employ
them best.

The Turk and the Hebrew ; or, the Rule of the
Crescent. London: Hope and Co.

Tills is a cleverly-mittan tale, designed for
the purpose of exhibiting the fanaticism of the
Turks. The author has considerable command
of language, and excels in description of
scenery ; and he is not without talent in the
delineation of character. The plot of the
story turns upon the destruction of a wealthy
Jew and his family. Personages are from
time to time introduced into the fiction that
make us believe the statement on the title-
page, that the sty ry (lt least partly) is "one of
real events and living persons." But in the
views of the writer we by no means concur.
What those sentiments are may be inferred
from the eonvlnding passage of the volume:—

Of Rome, t•igisir, I will say nothing ; but I confess I
have so much of the spirit of the old Crusader, that
would not unwillingly see the now waning Crescent set
fin• ever, though not as it rose—in blood. lint I speak not
Po lunch of the faith as of the race. The Turk. the
Mnhometlan Tartar, is the true descendant of the Turco-
man horde that swept away the splendid civilisation of the
Arabian Empire of the Caliphs like a gorgeous dream.
Ilk hideous rivilisatlon eat► never be reconcilable with
the Eumpean mind ; and never, I ant convinced, with the
religion of the Cross. It seems to be God's will that these
ferocious races Rhottl4l waste and disappear from the fact
of the earth like the ferocious animals. nut I forget that
I speak even at this moment under the rule of the Moslem.

As a specimen of the descriptive powers of
the author we may ticket the opening pas-
sage :

it was a lonely road. winding among the environs of
Damascus. In all the East, perhaps not in all the world,
is there a country more rich, and beautiful, mid flowery, than
suirounds this city. It is au earthly Paradise, so far as
outward loveliness can make earth Paradise.

The road lm• between boundless orchards of fruit-trees;
pomegranates, dates. figs. mingled pith rose-trees in their
Most humriant bloom of Leann•. These wehards were
Nis° corn fields and vines arils ; the frniutrees were 'planted
in mays among the standing clam luxuriant vines crept
over the date-trees and ripple-trees, and hung from Ilium.
mingling festoons and bunches of purple grapes with their
fruits and blossoms. Boughs laden with ripe tipples and
pomegranates. and rich purple plums. weighed down with
their own weight, lay tiailiug among golden masses of
eons ; tall. splendid lilies. Arrayed in more gorgeous
colouring than ever Solomon wore, towered up among
them, reflecting rest ruby lights on theirtranspnrent leases
from the sinking eastern sun. Here and there. glimpses
of sunny. flowery pathways• overhung by matted orchard
houghs and gourds and sines, and walled up on either side
by tall ripe corn and embankments of rses, leading far
away into the loan of that rich labytinth of °what*.
Sweet. unutterably sweet and fragrant, the first faint
breathings of the pertlimed breeze, that now began to rise
as the sllll got loner; the breeze that had passed for miles
and miles over those solitudes of Eden. The sun was
going down : a vast. burning, transparent, rubreoloured
`lobe--,just balanced, as it were. on the extreme verge of
that measureless extent of ripe and glowing gardens.

SATURDAY,

Lights—such lights as are seen in splendid dreams--
thrown upon masses of dowers, roses, ripe transparent
fruits, me i grapes, and gulden towering corn, and (Austria
of gleaming lilies.

We surmise that the writer wields a prac-
tised pen ; and it is not impossible that he
belonged to the stall' of " foreign correspon-
dents of one of our journals. It was first
announced as "a tale for the Aberdeen Cabi-
net ," and it may be commended as a cleve►
pamphlet on the Oriental question, taking the
form of a novel.

Records of a Run through Continental CountrieN.
By James Grant. London : Ruutledge and
Co.
IT would be too late for us to inquire into the
literary rank of Mr. Grant, and it is not needed
by this performance before us, which retains
all the characteristics of his well-known man-
lier. Whether he " runs " through Europe or
round the " House of Commons," his " Random
Recollections" alike partake of the qualities
which his " thirty volumes " teach us to ex-
pect from all that issues from his only too
facile pen. Far more readable than authors of
much more pretensions, he often succeeds in
amusing where others have made us yawn. We
do not open his volumes expecting brilliant
rhetoric or profound research. We only ex-
pect to meet our well-known " Mr. James
Grant," and we are never disappointed in
finding him consistently pursuing his own
method of " how to observe." Whether it be
great men or mighty mountains—lovely women
or delicious landscapes—art or nature—poetry
or pancakes—German sausages or French ge-
nius—he is always himself. Unlike some legal
celebrities, he never flinches from pronouncing
his "opinion "—he never falters out a poor
timid sentbk ; unlike famous practitioners of
the healing art, he never shakes his head ; and,
unlike certain doctors of divinity, he has only
one object, to make himself intelligible. His
self-reliance is never to be daunted. Other
" artists in words " feel nervous qualms and
wretched doubts about their not being "equal
to such great subjects," but Mr. Grant smiles
at difficulties, and never stops his pen. He
would "cut up " Mont Blanc as coolly as ho
would walk it up, and take down the preten-
lions of the Jura, even if its nodding summits
threatened to burr him under the pile of his
thirty volumes. but these and other pecu-
liarities of the author need not be recorded by
us in detail.
Amongst the light books of " travels " on
the Continent, the present work is particularly
distinguished by one excellence. It is entirely
free from mangled French and tortured Italian
phrases. We might suppose that Mr. Grant,
skilled in the tongues, had as much horror as
ourselves at seeing words turned every way
but the right one, and that his profundity as a
linguist shrank from the indelicate liberties
taken by printers in introducing irregular
foreign words to the notice of a generous pub-
lic. Mr. Grant, however, tells us in one of his
" revelation " pages that he knows nothing of
French, and records at the same time that a
distinguished French journalist is in the same
predicament with respect to English :
When formerly at Frankfort I met with several persons
of eminence. But the most distinguished man to whom I
was introduced was the celebrated Emile Oinirdin, editor
of the Press(' 4 Fans, and. without doubt, the most biih
Haut journalist in the civilised world. Ile woe me a kind
invitation to cull upon hini on my way through Paris, and
promised that, if time permitted. I should ; but unfortu•
timely he knows less of English than 1 do of French. so
that conversation between us could not he carried on pith
much gratification to either party. It is true that I could
have taken with me some literary Parisian friend who is
master of both languages ; but my experience in this way
hi Paris. some curs ago. has sails-MAI me how inisatisfae•
.ry set kin isonider sinch circninatances, to both M-
lle/4. Emile de tiirardin has much more of the appearance
of an Englishman than of a Frenchman. His beard is as
closely shaved as that of any er my readers. I was exceed-
ingly struck with the resemblance which he bears to the
piirtraits of Napoleon Bonaparte. Instead of his appearing
the bold, lively, vivo-ions person which from his writtuga
we would suppose hint to be. he looks pensive, grave, and
staid ; and though his whole life has proved him to be a
man of unbounded courage, moral and physical, his bear-
ing is quiet and unassuming in the extreme.
Gm' readers would like to hear how Mr.
James Grout encountered a live princess, and
how he moralised thereon :
During the day and night I spent in Heidelberg I put
ep at the Hotel de Baden, decidedly the best and molt