The Press.
London, England, 1856-11-08 00:00:00

THE PRESS.

In Solomon's temple the beams of the roof, as also the
boards and the ornamental work, were of the cedar of
Lebanon; and it was likewise used in the later temple of
Zerubbabel. David's palace was built with cedar; and so
lavishly was this costly wood employed in one of Solo-
mon's palaces, that it is called " the house of the forest
of Lebanon." As a matter of luxury also the cedar was
sometimes used for idols, and for the masts of ships. In
like manner, the cedar was highly prized among heathen
nations. It was employed in the construction of their
temples, as at Tyre and Ephesus ; and also in their
palaces, as at Persepolis. In the two latter instances,
however, Ephesus and Persepolis, it does not follow that
the cedar came from Lebanon ; though that of Syria was
among the most celebrated. It is also very possible that
the name cedar was sometimes loosely applied to trees
of another species.
The frequent mention in Scripture of the cedar of
Lebanon, and the uses to which it was applied, make it
apparent that in ancient times large tracts of the mountain
were covered with forests of this tree. Diodorus Siculus
also relates that Lebanon was full of cedars and firs and
cypresses of wonderful size and beauty. But the destruc-
tion of them for architectural uses was far more rapid than
their growth; so that when Justinian in the sixth century
erected the church of the Virgin (now el-Aksa) at Jeru-
salem, there was great difficulty in obtaining timber for
the roof ; though after much search a spot was found full of
cedar trees of great height. The destruction still went on,
and it would appear that as late as the middle ages private
houses in Sidon, and probably also in Tyre and other Pile-
nician cities, were celled and ornamented with the cedar
of Lebanon.

All these circumstances sufficiently account for the fact
that in our day the " goodly mountain " appears almost de•
nailed of those graceful forests which of old were its chief
glory. The impression, however, has far outstripped the
reality ; and the present grove has come to be regarded as the
only representative of the ancient cedars. This impression
has doubtless arisen from the circumstance thnt this grove
only is adjacent to any of the great roads by which tra-
vellers have crossed over Lebanon. Other cedar groves
there might be, in the northern and more inaccessible
parts of the mountain, which have remained unvisited,
and therefore unknown. Such, indeed, is truly the case,
according to the testimony of Ehrenberg and others.
That eminent naturalist spent a considerable time on
Lebanon, and found, as he informed me, the cedar growing
abundantly on those parts of the mountain lying north of
the road between lia'albek and Tripoly. The trees are of
all sizes, old and young ; but none so ancient and venera-
ble as those usually visited. Seetzen likewise, in 1805,
speaks of having discovered two other groves of greater
extent, but without specifying their location. It appears,
however, that one of these was near el•Hadith, southwest
of Ehden ; and the other in the district ed-I)ttnniyeh, south
of 'Akkiir ; but neither of them was personally visited by
Seetzen. He afterwards, however, was at Etnilb, north of
Ehden, where the region is wooded ; and there he found
cedars to the number of several thousands. In respect to
the grove near el•Hadith, which the natives and others
speak of as Ars (cedar), T was informed by Dr. Paulding
of Damascus, that although the trees bear a genetal re-
semblance to the cedar, yet their leaves are altogether
different, and mark them as a different kind of tree. This,
however, does not conflict with the testimony of Ehren-
berg, since el-liadith is south of the chasm of the
Kadisha.
The careful spelling and accentuation of the
names of all the places mentioned is not the
least of the literary merits of this most able
work, and those versed in Oriental orthcepy
know that accuracy in such matters is as diffi-
cult as the scansion of some of the Greek
choruses. As we have intimated, the general
reader may be rather disappointed in not find-
ing the style plastic and animated, but arts of
rhetoric are not to be sought for in a pro-
foundly didactic work. The volume records
what we may call a transitional state of mind.
It confirms the former biblical researches of
Dr. Robinson and his friends, and it must
also be read as preliminary to his future and
more extensive work. It is an invaluable addi-
tion to the library of our English divinity, and
the American Church has a just right to be
proud of its author and his associates.

Deverell. A Novel. Three Vols. London:

Chapman and Hall.
Kathie Brande. A Fireside History of a
Quiet Life. By Holme Lee. Tw•o Vols.

London : Smith and Elder.
THESE fictions present some points of resem-
blance. Both are narratives of female expo•
rience, a young lady in each case detailing
the trials to which her early life was exposed.
These trials, in both cases, result in family
happiness,—in a loving husband, in a young
fUmily, and in pious contentment. The story
of "Deverell" concludes :

In mutual confidence we steered quietly through the
path of life, chastened and elevated by the sorrows we had
endured and witnessed. Little children assembled round
us ; all demanding our attention and love, and whom we
endeavoured to train up as much as possible to subdue
their wayward impulses into perfect harmony. After all
I bad endured, it was a sweet consolation that I was

SATURDAY,

enabled to look back and acknowledge that God had wisely
ordained all things for good.

The ending of " Kathie Brand° " is not dis-
similar :

And now my fate being rounded to the full accomplish-
ment of all my dearest hopes, what does there remain to
chronicle besides ? Fireside happiness calm, pure,
equable—cannot much be dilated on. Our united loves
have flowed smoothly and pleasantly, and 1 thfnk not that
our long separation has been without its good for both. It
is half a dream to look back upon now, and the shadows
that haunt it wear the guise of Faith, and Patience, and
Love, and have no frown of reproach to darken the time
present. Our hearth is joyous with young faces—" trouble-
some tykes," says Hannah; but "there's many a care
comes saddled with a blessing," say I, quoting my old
servant Ann, a homely truth which every mother's heart
must echo.

This beau ideal of womanly happiness is for.
tuuately a standard not very difficult of
attainment. A comfortable home, an attached
husband, a group of children ! Imagination, it
seems, can invent no better rewards to crown
virtue than those homely joys which are almost
universally diffused.
In other respects these novels are sufficiently
different. In " Deverell " the romantic element
predominates,—the title of the tale being
taken from a young lady, Miss St. George
Deverell, whose strong passions lead her into
error, without, however, wholly perverting her
heart. The mystery which surrounds her
career is one principal source of interest ; but
her story is not the most attractive part of the
book. The purely domestic scenes show the
talent of the author—a lady, we presume—to
most advantage. The character of lola is
winning, and in connection with her fate are
passages of pathos which must appeal to every
heart. The pen of the author is a fresh one,
and eloquent description flows from it natu-
rally We are inclined to regard " Deverell "
as a first production ; and if so, some faults of
exaggeration may be the move readily par-
doned.

" Kathie Brande," by Mr. Lee, is written in
the subdued style appropriate to the resigna-
tion of a tender, dutiful nature, which makes
sacrifices, scarcely taking account of their
number and magnitude It is one aim of the
book to contrast the disinterested labours of
a home-loving sister with the selfish exigencies
of a wild, thoughtless brother. " Kathie "is a
" Patient Grisell " of domestic life—a charac-
ter which modern writers seem fond of por-
traying, though the patience to our thinking
is something overdone. There is a point at
which self.sacrifice ceases to be virtue ; hu-
manity is then lost in caricature ; and most
readers will think the point is reached
when Kathie throws off her devoted lover that
she may still endeavour to repair her brother's
extravagance. There is some obscurity in
this part of the narrative, and especially in
Felix Mayne's sudden departure, as he could
have had no reason to doubt Kathie's fidelity.
The tale is written with even more than the
author's usual prettiness of style. Every page
bears evidence of careful finish, and the lead-
ing sentiment of the heroine's nature—devoted
affection, combined with duteous resignation to
adverse circumstances—is admirably sustained
throughout. She is represented as a sweet
flower crushed, yielding finer odour for the
blow that prostrates it. The extract we sub-
join gives a fair idea of both the spirit of the
narrative and the poetic grace of the author's
style. Felix Mayne, a curate, who had long
been regarded with reverential love by Kathie,
has just asked her to become his bride:--

He drew me gently to the window, and for a little apace
we were silent; but soon the spell was broken up, and we
began to talk : not in a sage or edifying way at all, but as
egotistically as people in such circumstances always do.
Felix told me of some new dawning worldly hopes—ambi-
tious msnhood's wild, high hopes ! What a discursive,
subtle, wiling theme ! and I entered into it, every nerve of
my heart thrilling as l felt that I was privileged to share
those hopes; to give him the help of a loving faith ; to
watch, to tremble, to exult with him. Oh, indeed Kathie
Brande was a happy girl on that blessed day when Felix
Mayne gathered her in his arms and said he loved her!
He told me that in his eyes I had the best beauty,—youth,
health, cheerfulness; and the best dower,—spirit, energy,
and fortitude. Then he spoke of the time when I should
be his wife • when we should live together in one home,
and have but one interest ; of long summer rambles ; of
winter nights by the fireside ; of all that gathered together
under one roof, and bound by one tie, is carried in our
memory as home.
It all H.:l4m up before me so distinctly while I write : the
darkening schoolroom, the yellow sunset, the rising moon,
and the trees all black and elation, outside. 1 know nor,

NOVEMBER 8, 1856.

whether such temperaments as mine feel joy and pain
more exquisitely than others do, but to hear Felix say those
magical words, and to feel his eyes resting on me with love,
was almost too much happiness. I had begun to know
already that ho was more than all the world to me; and
that a glamour was rising up between my !wart and my
reason, that it wus hard to see through clearly.
. .

" When shall this sweet romance of ours become an
everyday reality, Kathie? When will you be my wife in-
deed ?" he asked, gently.
. _

For a few seconds I was silent: then I made answer,—
"We must wait."

" W ait !" he echoed impatiently.
The tears sprang to my eyes, but a touch from his lips
arrested their fall. Old home affections were not for
gotten; but they stood back, yielding the first place to the
great master•passion. Before me the brightest page in all
life's book lay open : I conned its lines lingeringly, without
any looking buck at past chapters, or any foreshadowings
of what might be to happen before death should turn over
to the finis, and shut up the book. . . . What could I
do ? What could I say ? Still nothing but "We must
wait."

" Kathie, I have found what I love ; I want to take it to
myself, and shelter it from every trouble but such as I can
share !" was his impetuous reply. "And you answer me
with Wait ! Are we to go on separate ways, and some
day no duties coming between, to be happy ?"
He half withdrew his arm, as if rejecting such a com-
promise; but when I shrank away, he caught me back
again, and asked almost fiercely if his love were so indif•
ferent to me that I could leave him thus. The glistening,
happy tears in my eyes were answer enough. He returned
to his that idea of the folly of waiting. I reminded him of
the duties I owed at home.

" Who can require the sacrifice of you ?" he passionately
exclaimed; " what mother can ask her child to give up
her best years to such work as yours will be?"
" Oh Felix ! she would nut ask it," I replied, grieved
and yet touched by his tone ; " she would toil on to her
thing day rather than stand in the way of our happiness.
►o not urge me, Felix : I have a duty which I must
do."

"My love then is nothing to you, Kathie I You are
proud : you will not let me work for you," he added.
I was silent ; but the hot tears swelled into my eyes at
his injustice. I eaw my future before me—quiet and tran-
quilly happy, even through those half bitter tear:. There
would be a round of small duties to do—duties that would
prevent idle anxieties and foolish fears. My life looked
like a stream flowing peacefully through meadow lands;
no swift currents, no shallows or dangerous quicksands
showed in its course ; now and then there were int:timings
from another river—gushing, sparkling, making sunny
eddies where the waters met—then on they glided again
with gentle ripple. Perhaps there might come a shallow
across that stream ; but shadows would not stop its tide:
it might wind deviously through long, long miles : it might
be skirted by dusty roads where Hope would lag and
Patience grow footsore ; but I saw a point where the two
rivers mingled where ruse a fair city looking seawards ;
thence the deep, still waves flowed on into strange lands
beyond my ken—beautiful lauds where the sunshine was
never dimmed, or the flowers stricken with frost or
blight. 1 glanced up from my vision to find his reproach-
ful eyes waiting the flickering changes on my face.
The sweetness of this style of writing is apt
to cloy. The whole passage is very pretty.
But when long reflections interfere with the
direct action of the story the reader is tempted
to " skip " them, however nicely written they
may be in themselves. The author should check
his tendency to this discursive manner. His
present work would be improved by compres-
sion, as the sentiment often impedes the
progress of the narrative; and there is some-
thing unpleasant in killing off characters
!lively to secure the happiness of a chosen
couple. Still, the impression left on the mind
as we close the book is eminently pleasing ;
and we may fairly congratulate the author
on having produced a tender and gracefull)-
told love story.

Essays : Critical and imaginative. By Pro-
fessor Wilson. Vol. 11. London : Black-

woods.

THE essays contained in this volume do not,
with one or two exceptions, invite criticism.
The first three are the Flights of Christopher
at the Lakes, and the last four are upon
" Anglimania " Everyone, however superfi-
cially acquainted with Wilson's writings, will
at once comprehend what is in store for him
under the above titles, hearty, buoyant,
jovial appreciation of field sports and fine
scenery, interspersed with wondrous anec-
dotes at the expense of Cockneys and bagmen,
and equally prodigious narratives of his own
prowess in the consumption of " howtowdies "
and Glenlivat. Wilson is probably a unique
instance of the extent to which keen sporting
faculties may be united with a high intellec-
tual and poetical development. Plenty of
great intellects have delighted in the recrea-
tions of gun, fishing-rod, or hunter ; and
plenty of good shots, riders, and anglers have
IDeen men of talents and cultivation. But the