The Sun.
London, England, 1864-01-12 00:00:00

106 5j f

THE SUN, LONDON, TUESDAY EVENING, JANUARY 12, 1864.

MR, FALCONER'S POEMS.

Memories: the Bequest of nzy Boyhood. Poems.
By Edmund Falconer. One vol., pp. 160. Tinsley

Brothers.

Versatility—whatever Sir Bulwer Lytton may
say towards the tabooing of that word by means
of one of the most ingenious arguments put

forth, to that express end, in his " Castoniana"—
Versatility is, beyond any doubt of it, the distin-
guishing peculiarity of the genius of Mr. Falconer.
If ever the word is to be applied to any display of

intellectual capacity whatever, it is to be applied in
his instance. By whatever phrase you may call it,
it is versatile. It is many-sided, it is ductile, plastic,
elastic, admitting of all kinds of adaptations-. Either
the word ought to be swept out of the dictionary
altogether, or it is quite allowably to be applied i❑
an instance like that of this accomplished artist and
gentleman. Comprehensive, his ability may be, in
its scope, if you will ; but, in its manifestation, its
chief characteristic appears to us to be quite as
readily expressible by our talking of its versatility.
Only a few weeks since, we had occasion to com-
ment upon the exceptional powers of a rarely gifted
artist like Mr. Woolner : an artist so rarely gifted
in his :way, as to handle with equal skill, vigour,
and refinement, the pen of the Poet or the chisel
and mallet of the Sculptor. And, in criticising his
charming love poem of "My beautiful Lady,"
we then spoke of the possibility, nay, if he
would but so direct his pea ers in earnest, of the
exceeding probability, of Mr. Woolner making
for himself a reputation, in the future, if he
cared but to make the attempt, equally well as a
painter or as a musician. As it is, his verses
glow with colour, while they and his sculpture
alike are conspicuous for the harmony of their
proportions—both the rhythm and the rhyme,
moreover, in this sculptor's poem abounding with
melody. But while we are hinting thus at pos-'
sibilities, or even, we might say, probabilities, in
regard to the Poet-Sculptor becoming, as well as
a Poet and a Sculptor, a Painter and a Musician
—here is an artist of a wholly different kind who
has already made good his claims to be viewed, at
one and the same time, as an Actor and as a
Dramatist, as a Poet and as a Theatrical Manager.
During several seasons the playgoing Londoners
have recognised Mr. Falconer's powers as an
Actor and as a Dramatist, and, in addition to that,
during the last season or two, as theatrical manager
also. His capabilities, in each of these characters,
have all along been recognised as beyond the dead
level of mere respectability. One of his pieces had
such a "run," it will be remembered, as has not often
been surpassed. He is now, moreover, joint lessee
with Mr. Chatterton at Old Drury. A new drama
of his fabrication was performed there for the first
time as recently as Saturday evening last—with
what success we shall elsewhere notify. Our object
now is simply to specify no less distinctly the bril-
liant success achieved by Mr. Falconer—quite ex-
ceptionally, as it appears to us, among Actors—as a
Lyrist. Already, we observe, that our author-actor's
tame has been brought into comparison with
those of Barton Booth and John Cunningham—
Actors and Lyrists like himself. But judging
him simply by his " Memories," Edmund Fal-
coner need not for one instant shrink from the
comparison thus suggested, His poems are far
beyond those either of Booth or of Cunningham.
And this, not merely as viewed, here and there, in
brief fragmentary passages. The sentiment of the
whole work is expressed in the terse motto selected
by Mr. Falconer for his title-page, from the master-
lyrist of Germany, perhaps of all Literature.
"Never forget th, dreams of your youth," is the
tender, lovely, pathetic thought of Schiller, the
thought here echoed with many graceful and touch-
ing variations in these " Memories " of Edmund
Falconer. Although the contents of the little
volume will be found comprised within the moderate
compass of considerably less than two hundred
pages, although the poems here collected together
as the Bequest of the writer's Boyhood are scarcely
more than seven in all, they give us ample taste of
their author's quality. They are singularly various.
They are written in all kinds of moods of an evi-
dently variable temperament, They include
poignant Green Room Sketches—graceful Love
Elegies—now a mere "je ne sail quoi"
love tryste—a Byronical phantasma—celebrations
one while of Egeria, another of Helen, another
of Virginia. Here is an exemplar of our author's
skill in weaving a Sonnet apropos to Stella :

-a

Trifles in idle hours give grave debate,
And so we argued wisely yesterday
What colour'd eye made most for Love or Hate,
The tender blue, the more impassioned gray ?
The back one's luminous unchanging ray,
The hazel's varied loveliness elate ;
Of conquest sure, and yet deep thoughted too,
And beaming brown of every shade and hue.
Each had an advocate, and each maintain'd
His choice with learn'd and clerk-like argument :
Lisrning to one you must have been content,
But heark'ning all, you ev'ry one disdained ;
To end the strife, I turned to Stella's eyes,
And there all memory of a purpose dies.
It was Bulwer who sang—years ago—in one of his
loveliest ditties :

" Those eyes, those eyes, how full of Heaven they are 1 "
A refrain—how tenderly expressive of the tender-
ness 3f the tender passions !—from which, from the
meaning of which at least, for the life of him, Mr.
Falconer can seldom—if we may venture to say so
—refrain ! Not only does he sing thus of Stella's
eyes in his Sonnet above given, but another while
he cries out in a sort of rapture, thus, about the
eyes of Virginia—

But oh I her deep and tranquil eyes,
With lids that ever slowly rise,
What words can image ? you should see,
And then you'd learn to pity me
Who, loving her, despair to win,
Against myself my love a sin
Their beauty ne'er by passion blurr'd,
A tender theme—a touching word
Unlocks the fountains of her heart,
But there delaying—loth to part,
Gathering in light along their lines,
The trembling tear-drop lovelier shines
Than Earth's most rare and priceless gem
Sparkling upon a sparry stein
In stalactite or crystal cell,
By Genii watch'd and guarded well,
Making the light wherein they dwell.
The gem of the book, however, as in truth such a
theme should make it, when once selected thus ap-
propriately by a Poet-Actor, is the Ballad commemo-
rative of the Poet-Actor's beloved, his " espousid
-wife"—Anne Hatho way ! As affording the most
readily a completer notion of the lyrical powers of
Mr. Falconer than anything else might do selected
Front his pages—we gladly transfer to our columns
entire the closing stanzas of this charming English
love poem, aptly commemorative just now of the
loves and lives of his

WILL SHAESPERB AND ANNE HATHAWAY.
One evening in Autumn deep sadness eame o'er
As her pitcher she fill'd in the well near the door,
For an over-ripe apple she found by the brim,
And she thought what a gift it had once been for him ;
A drop speck'd its bloom, and it came spite of "Nay,"
From thy heart, not the cold well, proud Anne Hathaway.

It was warm, and spread over the fruit the rich dye
Of a heart-mist exhaled by Love's roseate sky,
Like gems on the pitcher the cold drops shone clear
But the gem of all gems was that quick-wasting tear :
She put up the apple to kiss it next day,
" I must call in the children," said Anne Hathaway.
She sot down the pitcher and lean'd o'er the gate
To toll thc, young truants their supper did wait;
Susannah was spelling for Judith a book,
And Hamot was paddling about in the brook;
And she saw near the bridge, just a stone's throw away,
One who soem'd a great lord unto Anne Hathaway.

His doublet and trunks were of velvet, that shone
Like the mellow-green moss on an old coping-stone,
A plume of white feathers his felt hat did grace,
And his collar and ruffles were broad Flanders lace,
With his buff boots and spurs he look'd gallant and gay,
Yet were tears in his eyes then, cold Anne Hathaway.
Susannah stopp'd reading aid bade Judith look,
For Hamet stood fast in the mud of the brook ;
With his eyes wonder-fix d, and his mouth open wide.
Then the stranger advanced, and when close by Anne's

side,
Though his bearded lip quiver'd, did smilingly say,
"W
give me an apple, dear Anne Hathaway
Anneillyou
started, and trembled, and look'd in his face
Oh I could it bo Willie's with majesty's grace
Though it bottled youthful still, there the boy was no
more,
For the full front of power and command it now wore;
And she shrank back afraid when sho heard Shakespeare
s
" Don'tay,
you know your own husband, dear Anne
.Hathaway

"'Tis my father," cried Susan, and sprung to his breast,
From that moment ever beloved there the best,—
But the others he call'd, and with hand and lip graced,
And tenderly then their coy mother embraced ;
" Whets I ask'd for an apple you never said ' Nay,"
But a kiss was a great gift from Anne Hathaway,"
He went o'er to Stratford the very next morn,
And bought the great house where the Clopton was born;
And rich lands round Welcomb he purchased right out,
And a propertied gentleman was, past all doubt;
And though the poor title his fame flouts to•day,
Still, she married anlEsquire, did Anne Hathaway I
Very cordially we may congratulate Mr. Falconer
upon the publication of poetical effusions such a 3
these—effusions that few need disdain to have had
bequeathed from Boyhood to Manhood (the Child
being Father of the Man, as Wordsworth has it,
and therefore capable of making, thus, a distinct
bequest), bequeathed, here, in the golden numbers
rung out of the coinage of the author's brain in
the shape of these same pure and virginal
" memories."

THE IMPARTIAL LEADER. No. I. Denis Love.
—A new sixpenny monthly organ has been com-
menced. Its general character appears to be vez y
ambitious. Its aim is to be of No Party. Truth
is its idol. Its aspirations are at once political and
literary. It is desirous of pleasing everybody, but
we are very much afraid in this wish it is doomed
to very considerable disappointment.

EVENTS OF THE MONTH. Part I. J. and C.
Mozley.—Another sixpenny monthly periodical, of
a less ambitious kind. Also political, also literary.
A carefully compiled, and so far useful, but, we
grieve to add, somewhat dull epitome of facts in
regard to the events of the month—events political,
literary, scientific, and connected with matters of
general information.

THE WEATHER AND THE PARKS,

The comparatively mild temperature which on
Saturday succeeded to the frosty atmosphere and
cutting winds that had prevailed during the earlier
portion of the week was so far maintained on Sunday
night that the mercury had fallen but four degrees
in the thermometer at midnight. The highest
point reached on Sunday was 40 degrees, or 8 above
freezing point; the minimum temperature during
the night was 36 degrees, while the lowest point
touched was 30 degrees. At nine o'clock yesterday
morning Messrs. Negretti and Zimbra's standard
thermometer at the Royal Humane Society's re-
ceiving-house, Hyde-park, registered 36 degrees;
and at noon the mercury had risen to 45 degrees, or
5 above the highest point of yesterday. The wind
blew in the moaning from E.S.E. ; at noon it was
almost due south; but it after wardE chopped round
to south-east by east. At four o'clock the mercury
fell to 40 degrees, and later in the evening the tem-
perature indicated was a shade lowez than 39 deg.:
Notwithstanding the dangerous condition of the
ice on the Serpentine, and the unwearied exertions
of the icemen of the Royal Humane Society, whose
orders were to prevent all persons f7om venturing
upon it, over 200 skaters pursued the sport yester-
day, and apparently with all the greeter zest that it
was an enjoyment which, under the circumstances,
prudeuce would have forbidden. Tiey, however,
disregarded all warning, and, being literally swift
of foot, eluded the efforts made to remove them, A
large number of boys, encouraged by the example
of their seniors, crowded on the ice at various
places. They were in one respect more easily dealt
with, but they contrived to return to the frozen sur-
face at one point or another almost as soon as they
ware removed from it. Happily no serious casualty
occurred during the day, and this tle more to be
wondered at from the "ragged" and aoneycombed
state of the ice. It is now little over two and a half
inches in thickness, and, owing to the lines and
cracks which intersect each other in every direct'.on,
resembles a monster skeleton map leosely put to-
gether, or a Chinese puzzle on a large scale.
The ice on the Round Pond, near Kensington
Palace, is of an average thickness of inches, and
the water being shallow except at one point, which
is marked, and where the depth is about ten feet,
the number of skaters and sliders was comparatively
large, amounting during the entire day to over 300.
A few skaters also ventured on the ice which covers
the Long Water. Although not considered safe for
a crowd, it is in a better condition than that on the
Serpentine, being still 31- inches in thickness; that
being, however, 2 inche© less than its average thick-
ness on Friday last.

At Regent's and St. James's parks the ornamental
waters are still frozen over; but the ice has thawed
to such an extent that it is not in a fit state to resist
the pressure of the numbers of persons who hastened
to the parks yesterday with a view to ergage in the
sport of skating and sliding. The icemen were
busily employed in keeping the ice clear, end full
notice was given to the public that it was unsafe to
venture upon it ; but in the case of many urchins,
who insisted on running
sive argument of the rope'send had to be resorted
to. into danger, the conclu-
sive

The skating season, so far, has been short and
sharp. The sun set yesterday with what is under-
stood by the weatherwise as a " frosty
appearance,"
and there are some who profess to be learned in
such matters who predict that a return to extremely
cold weather is at hand. Should such not be the
case, however (and the weatherwise are sometimes
otherwise), those who have locked forward to a long
run of sport on the ice will, at least, have the con-
solation of knowing that the genial influence which
prevents their anticipations being realised gives
work to the labourer, and mitigates
one of the many
hardships which the poor have to endure.

(From the Scotsman.)
The weather on Saturday was more genial than
it had been for some days previous, the leenness of
the frost being somewhat neutralised by the rays of
the sun, which occasionally shone oat brightly
elkocniheist atmosphere. As was to be
proved the great centre of
et hxrpoeucgt
ehd h eththie
attraction for the pleasure-seekers. All day long
crowds of people of all ranks of the community
thronged the Drive between Edinburgh and Dud-
dingston, going to and returning from the ice; and
the road towards midday presented an appearance
circum-
stances is seldomleand activity such as in ordinary
the greatest thoroughfares
of the city. Carriages, coaches, cabs, gigs, and
seen
other conveyances swelled the living tide that rolled
eastwards by Arthur Seat, bearing thousands of
skaters and spectators to the ice, and at parts of the
route the crowd of people and vehicles was so great
as somewhat to impede the pi ogress of pedestrians.
The scene at Duddingstou Loch during the day was
strikingly imposing and picturesque. From the hill
End rising ground overlooking the ice ttousands of
ladies and gentlemen watched with keen interest
tae shifting and manifold phases of des wintry
pastimes in progress upon the loch belay. These
worded eareed as nanidlesussemasentthteoythweeornelookers. Here
exciting, and
infinitee
and there, within privileged enclosures swept clear
of 8/10W, skilled and veteran skaters performed
mystic evolutions with an ease and grace tha made
tiem conspicuous among the motley thousands who
might recreation upon every Part of the '&6 and
cmpact expanse of ice. Higher up, towards the
eastern end of the loch, eager, high-spirited curlers
carried on their invigorating game in presenc) of
amused spectators, jest and laugh mingling with
the rumbling music of the stones as they slid swiely
from goal to goal. Occasionally dense crowds of
toys pursuing the flying ball Swept, whirlwifel
fashion, over different parts of the ice, now, as seer
from a distance, settling into a confused cad indis.
tinguishablo mass, and then, breaking up, scatter-
ing into long, straggling files, and carrying
humorous terror into the hearts of nervous and
undisciplined skaters, who, without warning, hap-
pened to be enveloped in and carried away with the
rushing tide. Prominent in the changing scene
crowds of gaily-dressed ladies and gentlemen en.
joyed with unflagging energies ihe healthy and
exciting exercise of the slide, receiving with hearty
good humour the little accidents and laughable
contretemps to which the pastime not unfrequently
gave rise. These constituted the chief features of
the sports ; the minor episodes of the scene were
almost innumerable, and afforded endless gratifica-
lien to the beholder. The ice swarmed with skaters
.and unskilled, graceful and ungraceful,