The Sun.
London, England, 1864-10-03 00:00:00

LITERATURE.

Charles Dickens's New Serial Story.
Our 3lutual Friend. By Charles Dickens. No. VI.

Several new characters are introduced to our
notice in this latest instalment of " Our Mutual
Friend"—one or two among them decided originals.
And foremost among these ought at once to be
particularised a little creature destined, or we are
very much mistaken, to be embalmed with tears
of lova amo g our tenderest recollsctions. A child
—a dwarf—a girl—a something—a tiny, weakly
being, at once graceful and grotesque, pathetic and
ridiculous—Fanny Cleaver baptismally—AlissJenni
Wren according to her own whimsical choice of
a soubriquet—The Person of the House in 6
social paint of view— a Doll's Dressmakers
when defined commercially or professionallY.
The interview between her and her old drunken
father is, in several particulars—as where "the
swollen lead•coloured under-lip trembled with 6
shameful whine'—something very strange and
wonderful of its kind. We know not whether to
think of this unnatural reversal of the relative
positions of the two, The Person of the House and
l'heßadChild,withloveor with loathing, with tender
pity or with actual disgust. Another new character
admirably well defined, even in these first fey/
touches, is—the schoolmaster, Bradley Headstone'
The description of the boy Neighbourhood, by tha
way, where his school stands, is inimitable—just
one of those rapidly-pencilled Biz vignettes that
are mervels of realistic word painting. A Toy Neigh'
bourhood, it looked like, we are told, as if it had bees
taken in blocks out of a box by a child of a parties'
larly incoherent mind and set up anyhow. The last
chapter in the number is, after all, however, the
chapter in it. A Piece of Work it is called—the
said piece of work being an exquisitely humorous
and covertly .satirical account of the manner
in which Veneering obtains a seat in Parliament'
rbe comicality of the whole of this description ie
something delightful. The legal gentleman In
Britannia's confidence—the way in which both
Veneering and Mrs. Veneering acknowledge t°
each other "we must work," each thereupon setting
to work accordingly—Twemlow's energetic do-1104
thing co-operation at the club Lady Tippins s
resolute determination to assist in bringing bon
(Veneering) in for Pocket Breaches —Podsnap 0
eminently practical suggestion of their all dining
together at Veneering's (all those friends of his,
that is to say, that are rallying, rearing, roaring'
reeling rarullarulling round him) their all
dining thus together at Veneering's for the per.
pose of reporting progress and comparing note:B—d'
above all the extraordinary assiduity and devotional
zeal in Veneering's behalf, evidenced by
Boots and Brewer in taking cabs and
going about—every minute touch, here, as We
read on, is a fresh provocative to laughter.
Pre-eminent among these exquisite touches of
humour !Ring three so rare and irresistible in their
way as to require their being thus separately partie
eularised. Firstly—Brewer's master-stroke at the
close of Veneering's luxurious dinner, namely'
his notion of hurrying down to the
House to see how things are looking.
Secondly the Analytical's diabolical impulse
to suggest that Baby's dream of the Fairies was
attributable to " Wind"—throwing up his situa"
ticn upon the spot while suggesting it. Thirdly,
and lastly, Twemlow's ejaculatory moan, in a sat
of despairing collapse, in reference to Veneering."'
" I shall either go distracted, or die, of this man*
He comes upon me too late in life, lam tot
strong enough to bear him ! t'
—with which the
number closes delightfully.

The Warriors of our Wooden Walls and their
Victories. By L. Bradshaw Walker. One Vol.:

pp. 296. Second Edition. Aylett and Son.
A glorious boy's book—full of chivalric anecdotes,
haira.breadth 'napes, and perillous adventures. The
gift-book of gift-books for any young reefer who
has just had tacked on to his uniform jacket that
gold-lace promise of the sea•captain's epaulette
yclept, in maritime slang, the midshipman's curse.
Here, in these brief, but sufficient records of the
deeds of " derring do" (and " done," shall we say ?)
the intending emulator of the old dead and gone
Sea Lions of England may read about such match•
less feats of arms (achieved upon the great deep) all
lend all the fascination of romance to the personal
histories of heroes like Horatio Nelson and Cuthbert
Collingwocd, Sir Francis Drake and Sir Philip
Broke, Lord Exmouth and Lord Dundonald. It is
impossible to turn the pages of this enthralling little
volume without feeling one's heroic sympathies and
patriotic ardour exalt-d and intensified.

Can You Forgive Her ? By Anthony Tro11op8•

No. X.

Half of Mr Anthony Trohope's lively task is done,
in the way of propounding this still rather pro-.
blcmatic question to his multitude of readers. Before
the close (in this tenth number of his current serial
tale) of the first of the two volumes, into which it le
divided, our author tells us that, so far as he biro'
self is concerned, he has already forgiven her Not
so, however—we are perfectly well satisfied of this
—not so, in the least, has it yet come to be with alaf
one of Mr Trollope's readers in the present instance'
Not only have we not yet forgiven her, but we can't,
for the life of us, imagine the probability, hardly,
we might even say, the possibility, of our forgiving
her (Mice Vavasour, that is) in the hereafter. The
plot, so far, is simply odious—and the characters one
and all are very nearly detestable. The only ale'
ratter in any way really worthy or meritorious,
meaning John Gray of Nethercoats, is at the beet,
after all, a very slow and a somewhat spoon,'
character indeed. The rest of the people
in the tale, alike male and female, are—(we
must needs reiterate the words with a sort of
emphasis of indignation), nearly detestable. Lady
Glencora is not as yet quite lost—her husband's
Mr Palliser's forehead is not as yet fully adorned—'
George Vavasour has not as yet revealed himself
to be completely and undeniably a mean and sordid
scoundrel—and so forth with all the rest of them•
But these extremest degradations and debasements
are (before half the bookie done) all but accomplished•
In the present number, particularly towards the
close of it, there is a good deal of coarse fua in the
rival wooing of Mr. Cheesacre and Captain Bellfieldr
the Widow Greenow playing fast and loose with
them most amusingly.

POMPEY'S HEAD.—The remains of the head of
Pompey, the aboriginal who was lately shot by 1\
Stuckey, in the far north, have been placed in the South
Australian Institute for the inspection of students in ethno:
logy and others interested in the history of this aboriginal
celebrity, the only regular South Australian bushranger.-""

South .AuFtralian Register.
CRYSTAL PALACE.—The illumination of the great
centre basin during the playing of the fouhtains will be T3'
heated this evening at 7 u'olock,accornpanied by batteries of
shells and Roman candles, and concluding with a flight of
of rcekets,