The Press.
London, England, 1858-07-03 00:00:00

THE PRESS, JULY 3, 1858.

that every one who reads this book will admit
that, by the evidences of his character and tone
of mind which it affords, Mr. Wikoff has sup-
plied the strongest possible justification of his
rejection, both as a lover by the lady and as an
agent by the Minister. It is extremely amusing
to know a great many things for the narrators
of which, however, we do not entertain any very
profound respect. Our Transatlantic cousins are
famous for their descriptions of English house-
holds, and we have heard of a celebrated
American authoress who, while on a visit to one
of the leading writers of the present day, occupied
herself with taking notes of his conversation
while he talked, and when he was silent, in
sketching his cat, his arm-chair, and the general
aspect of what a Frenchman would style his
"interior '• " and, finally, wept tears of real
sorrow at being warned on her departure to sup-
press these revelations. Mr. Wikoff has a good deal
of this spirit, which will no doubt make his book ex-
tremely popular in his own country, but the fol-
lowing sketch, however entertaining, is not such
as would induce any other English statesman
to " put him up" again in a hurry. Ile has
been invited to Broadlands, and thus describes
his experiences :
On my return to the house I found its noble owner
waiting for me in the library, and he welcomed me with
all the easy familiarity of a finished man of the world.
My preconceived notions of his appearance and manners
were ludicrously disappointed. Instead of the venerable
man of imposing mien and solemn gravity—the conjoint
result of high distinction, English formality, and advanced
age—l encountered a very pleasant gentleman of some
fifty years, apparently, perfectly offhand and unaffected in
his demeanour, and singularly vivacious and playful in his
remarks, which were accompanied with a sort of running
chuckle. After a few moments conversation, bis lordship,
suggesting we had but a few minutes to dress Sur dinner,
rang for a servant to conduct me to my room, whilst be
hurried off, saying he would see me directly in the drawing.
room.

On repairing thither, I was presented by his lordship to
the celebrated Lady Palmerston, formerly Countess
Cowper, and once the belle of her epoch. She was a tall,
finely formed woman, with a handsome countenance, very
elegant manners, and, apparently, still in the prime of life.
There was the same polished ease and freedom from
restraint of tiny kind that distinguished her noble husband,
and which indicated in both that to high breeding was
added the long habit of wide and conataiit intercourse with
society. There was only one other lady present, the Hon.
Mrs. NV. C—, a member of the family. When dinner
was announced Lady P— rase, and with a charming
mixture of affability and hauteur offered me her arm,
saying, she '' would take the stranger into dinner," an
honour I certainly would not have ventured to aspire to.
The dinner passed off delightfully; my Lord Palmerston
talking, joking, and laughing, as though he passed his time
doing nothing else. He related several anecdotes, full of
point and admirably toil
On returning to the drawing room, the Minister left me
with the ladies, sating he would join us at tea; and I learnt
afterwards that he was in the habit of retiring to his
cabinet for an hour or snore altar dinner to glance over
his despatches, flowing in upon him every day front all
quarters of the world. He came in again about eleven
o'clock, drank a cup of tea, chatted awhile in his pleasant
way, anti disappeared once more. Ile had returned, I
found, to his study, where I was surprised to hear he
frequently passed part of the night at work. I have since
discovered that Lord Palinerston's capacity for labour is
prodigious, anti his energies, mental and bodily, never
flag under any pressure of business. His intelligence,
experience, and activity enable him to accomplish every-
thing without appearance of haste or loss of time.
Whether tt be that his task is congenial, or that his nature
demands constant occupa'ion, certain it is that Lord I'al•
merston labours as incessantly as any operative or firmer's
man in England. Ha requires no recreation, is never
seen at places of amusement, and is free from all those
fashionable vices so common arnougat statesmen and
diplomatists of all countries
At tcn next morning the family were punctually
assembled at breakfast, but I found his lordship more
reserved in manner end less inclined for conversation, as
though his mind was already intent on the business of the
day. After breakfast every one, accordinl to the mist sm
in English country house., betook themselves to their own
mode of amusement, but in bidding me good morning his
lordship aske•l me to accompany him in his usual ride at
four in the a:ternoon.
I accompanied the ladies in a short ramble over the
grounds, laid out with exquisite taate, in both the French
and English style; gay parterres of flowers, massed together
in the greatest variety and profusion, relieved by sloping
lawns and graceful groups of trees. I had Sue views of
the house from various peitita, which is au ols'ong in
shape, with winga, and constructed with a nice peNeptinn
of architectural effect. It is of great dimensions, con•
tanning on the lower floor alone three spacious drawing-
rooms, library, biltiatd•ruom, and a dining-room worthy or
a palace.

We fear Mr. Wikoff is what the Scotch would
call a "soft." lie had not Mr. Earey at his
elbow, and the following extract will prove that
the noble Viscount was his superior in other
things beside diplomacy :

At four I proceeded to join his lordship for our ride
and I found him ready at the hour named. As we were
about to mount he

" I will give ym a turn in the New Forest." Having re-
marked nothing of the kind in the neighbourhood I asked,
with WTIle distrust, what the distance might ?

"Only ten miles, " returned his lordship, pulling on
his gloves.
Ten miles there, ditto back, thought I, in a sober spirit
of computation, besides the turn proposed. I felt I had
better come out with a plain statement, whilst there was
time.
" If your iordship is serious," I said, " I shall beg the
favour of carrying a pillow along with me, for I am sure to
spen I the night in the Forest. "
" What !" exclaimed the noble lord, " will a gallop like
that fatigue you ? "
`• I have not strode a horse for these several years past,"
I expostulated.
" In that case," returned his lordship, " let us take a
walk over the farms," to which I readily assented, and the
more so, that the playfulness of the " thorough-bred " in-
ten•ted fur me inspired me with secret mit,g►vinga that we
should soon part company in mutual disgust. To say no-
thing of fatigue and insecurity, I greatly preferred a pro-
menade a pied, since it would elf ,rd me better oppor-
tunity for conversation with his lordship, which I ardently
desired. Off we started at a rattling pace, which soon
made me suspect I had gained little by the exchange. I was
really astonished at the extraordinary bodily vigour of my
noble host, which fur exceeded mine, though some thirty
years his junior, and in sound health.
Mr. Wikoff has devoted two or three chapters
to the career of the present Emperor of the French
whose rise to power he professes all along to
have foreseen, but on whose acts subsequent to
the coup-d'etat he has discreetly forborne to
enlarge. He tells how he tried to worm out the
views of that inscrutable potentate, and how com-
pletely he was baffled in the attempt. And as
he has more or less shown up in a similar manner
every person with whom he describes himself to
have associated, we imagine that ills diplomatic
exertions will for the future be confined to a rather
restricted circle. It would be lost labour to endea-
vour to make the author of this book compre-
hend how he has sinned against the laws of reti-
cence, to the observance of which a man is bound
by accepting .confidential employment. Evell
supposing his grounds of complaint to have been
well founded, ft does not appear to have struck
him that there are certain kinds of retaliation
which at once lower a man to the level of his
adversary, and stamp him as socially dangerous.
Admitting that his imprisonment was a somewhat
heavy retribution, we cannot but think that both
the lady of Portland-place and the gentleman of
Downing-street have had a fortunate escape from
further commerce with such a character as the
pages of the " New Yorker" reveal to our notice.

The People in Church: their Rights and Duties
in Connection with the Poetry and Music of the
Book of Common Prayer. By Josiah Pittman,
Organist of Lincoln's-inn. London : Bell and
Daldy.

Church Reading : the Services of the Church
Accented. By the Rev. J. J. Holcombe, 8.A.,
Assistant Curate of Hanover Chapel. London :
Bell and Daldy.

A MOVEMENT is visibly going on—a movement
which we rejoice to see—for the enlargement and
improvement of the Church of England. It is a
movement in which the laity themselves are
taking a forward part. The gentry throughout
England are busily engaged in restoring or re-
building their parish churches. In many places
new churches are reared up, parsonages built, and
endowments provided, at the cost of single
individuals. The ecclesiological societies are
chiefly formed and supported by laymen ; and
laymen are now frequently found among the
writers on Church enlargement and improvement.
One of these, the first writer now before us, is in
deed an organist, and may therefore be said to have
a professional interest in the question. But we
notice in him a praiseworthy exception to the too
common rule, by which men make, and sink into,
a deep rut of routine duties, from which they
have neither the power nor the wish to escape.
This hindrance to improvement—the sinking
into a deep professional rut—is, we believe, the
chief cause of the long endurance of many evil
habits and systems amongst us. We have often
felt astonishment at the power of habit, and long-
accustomed routine, in forming men's opinions,
and bringing them gradually to tolerate what
formerly they would have condemned. One par-
ticular instance of this will never be effaced from
our memory.

Most men whose judgment is not biassed by
circumstances, have long since come to the con-
clusion that a sufficient charge for a single
clergyman is, a parish of 2,000 or 3,000 souls ;
or that, if a curate be added, a population of
4,000 or 5,000 will fully tax all their energies.
Now, about ten years ago a Royal Commission
was appointed, to inquire into this matter, and to
take evidence upon it. That evidence all con-
firmed the above view, with the exception of one
class of witnesses. Several very excellent and
eminent persons were examined, who had been
for some years in charge of some large parishes—
such as Bloomsbury, St. James's, Piccadilly, and
Marylebone. These men had inured themselves
to the burden of 20,000 or 30,000 souls; they
had made the best arrangements they could ;
and they had grown accustomed to the work, and
sensible of the importance of their position, as
heads of great parishes. They shrank from the
idea of being " cut down ;" and they had really
persuaded themselves, and tried to persuade the
Commission, that 20,000 or 30,000 people was
not too large a number for one rector to have to
answer for ! We were much struck with this
singular proof of how the human mind can adapt
itself to circumstances, and how those circum-
stances can lead even honest men to embrace
sincerely views and notions which, a dozen years
before, they would have regarded as monstrous.
Out of this old and deep rut, however, of Church
customs and habits, men are now everywhere
endeavouring to lift themselves. And we rejoice
to see, in Mr. Pittman's little work, an instance
of a professional man who does not think that
" whatever is, is right."
Mr. Pittman has been studying the Prayer-
book, till he discovers, what is apparent on the
face of it—but what we have all agreed, long ago,
not to see—that the People have a large share in
the duty of Public Worship. In truth, during
the dark period which intervened between the
Restoration and the French Revolution, the
parish clerk was universally admitted to be
the proxy for the people ; and, until lately, our
congregations have been too much in the posi-
tion of the Romish ones, who meet together
" to hear mass."

What a suprising, and what a delightful change
would it be, if one of our congregations were,
some day, to awake up, and to determine to take
its own proper share in the service ! What a
new and glorious thing would that service he !
We know that we shall be told that some few
congregations have already made the attempt,
and have made it with success. But we cannot
forget that in most instances of this kind the
attempt has been marred by the mingling with it
of certain questionable practices, from which
controversies or enmities have sprung up; and
that in scarcely any instance has the participation
of the people in the service been the main feature
in the change.
Mr. Pittman, as far as we can see, is simple
and honest in his purpose. We detect no Ro-
manizing tendencies in his work, and we cordially
recommend it.

The second book is more distinctlyprofessiond;
but it is a well-meant and sensible volume, and
will be of use in its own department.

Memoirs and Letters of the late Thomas
Seddon. By his Brother. London : Nisbet

and Co.
IT is but a fortnight since we noticed the Memoir
of David Gibson, and here is the twin volume,
and from the same publishing house. This is a
circumstance which could hardly occur again in
half a century.
Both Gibson and Seddon were promising
students; both died just when success and
celebrity were opening before them, and both
deserved just such a brief and simple memorial
as they have received.
Thomas Seddon was a member of a family
once of considerable note in the City of London.
Latterly, we believe, it migrated westward ; but
in our youth " Seddon's in Aldersgate-street "
was the name of a house universally known and
honoured in the City.
Thomas Seddon did not like cabinet-making ;
and in his thirtieth year, after many struggles to
get free, he became, once for all, an artist. That
year, 1851, saw his first picture, " Penelope,"
suspended, like many other early efforts, in the
very top row of the exhibition of the Royal