The Press.
London, England, 1857-10-10 00:00:00

of -a theatre. But it led to a result, the value of which
my old readers know, and my young ones will learn—it
led to a very tender and life-lung friendship. Arid, oh 1
how few out of the great aggregate of love affairs lead to so
high, or so good, ur ao affectionate a permanency as is a
tender friendship.
"Clouds and Sunshine" is certainly the
best thing in this volume; indeed, we are not
sure that it is not the best thing Mr. Bowie
has ever written. It is an idyl of rustic life
framed in the Berkshire scenery which Mr.
Iteado knows so well how to describe, and
concerned with the passions. projects. loves',
fears, and hatreds against which the most
pastoral and secluded farmhouse—

Grey twil:glit potted
On dewy landscapes, dewy trees,
Sutler than sleep; all things in order stor'd,

A. haunt of ancient peace—
i3 no security whatever. The plot is so
cleverly worked out, and is so full of delicate
turns and ingenious surprises, that we prefer
to recommend rather than analyse it: those
to whom it is not already familiar will be
thankful for being directed to so charming a
story.
Mr. Reade understands country people as
well as country scenery :

Here, if any reader of mine imagines that count 7 people
are simple and devoid of art, for heaven's sake resign that
notion, which is entirely founded on pastorals written in
metropolitan garrets.
Country people look simple; but that is a part of their
profound art. They are the square nosed sharks of terra
firma. Their craft is smooth, plausiole, and unfathomable.
You don't believe me, perhaps. Well, then, my sharp
cockney, go live and do business in the country, and tell
me at the year's end whether you have not found humble
unknown Practitioners of Humbug, Flattery, Over reaching,
and Manoeuvre, to whom Thieves' Inn Louion might go to
school.
We hear much, from such as write with the butt•end of
their grandfather's flageolet, about simple swains and
downy meads ; but when you get there the natives are at
least as downy as any part of the concern.

All the three stories have a brilliancy and
dramatic vigour about them which, with littlo
alteration, would fit them for the stage, though
the plot of " Clouds and Sunshine," owing to
peculiar circumstances, would hardly (iu its
present state) give the same complete satis-
faction to an audience that it does to a reader.

Life of John Kitto, D.D., F.S.A. fly John
D.D., LL.D. London : Hamilton,
Adams, and Co.
THE public has already learned much about
Dr. Kitto, as Mr. Ryland's memoirs were ex-
tremely full. His extraordinary story is here
again brought before us in this work ; and,
although its details are sombre, and though
there are many depressing passages in this
volume, its contents are most interesting and
affecting Kitto's case was one of the most
remarkable ever recorded in the " curiosities
of literature," and the history of his life and
his pursuit of knowledge under difficulties
deserves to be popularly known. What the
measure of those difficulties was is seen in the
accident that bcfel him
On the 13th of February, 1817, the elder Kitto was en•
gaged in repairing the roof of a house in Batter-street,
Plymouth. His slim and ragged son was, about half past
fonr in the afternoon. engaged in carrying up a load of
slates, and, when in the act of stepping from the top of the
ladder to the roof, he lost his footing and fell. a distance
of thirtv•five feet, into the court beneath. There he lay
insensible, bleeding profusely at mouth and nose. On
being lifted, about five minutes after, consciousness re-
turned for an instant, and he could not divine why lie came
there, or why so many peotle were staring at him. For
more than a week he con tinned in prostrate insensibility •,
for four mouths he was obliged to keep his bed, and he did
not entirely recover his strength till other four months
had also elapsed. But the accident had deprived him
wholly of the faculty of hearing. What injury was done to
the organ was never ascertained, and no possible lona of
treatment could remove it. lie was subjected to every
variety of surgical torment and experiment, but all in vain.
The action of the auditory nerve was completely paralysed,
perhaps, as has been surmised, from the entire internal
apparatus being gorged with blood. The sense was not
simply dulled, it was extinguished. He became deaf, not
comparatively, as if he could hear only a little, and that
even with extreme pain and difficulty, but absolutely, for
he could not hear at ail. The base of the skull had also
sustained some fracture beyond the reach of detection
or reparation—a sad supplement to his constitutional
headache.
He thus describes the horrible sensations of
utter deafness :
Next in pre-eminence in the list of misfortunes, after
I blindness, comes deafness. To me the whole world is
dumb, since lam deaf to it. No more the music of the
human voice 0141 charm. All around, below, and above