The Sun.
London, England, 1864-09-06 00:00:00

LITERATURE.

he British Quarterly Review. Part LXXIX.

The first article in the British Quarterly dis-
cusses the much vexed questions concerning the
Pentateuch and Bishop Colenso in a learned spirit.
It is followed by a very interesting article on re-
cent Alpine experiences, fall of romantic adventure
and exciting description. The reviewer does full justice to
M. de Immure, who encountered so many difficulties in
achieving the summit of Mont Blanc. He camped out for
four nights on the snows of the great mountain, carrying
on his scientific observations. Nor are the notices of the
work of Mr John Ball, late president of the Alpine Club,
of the Rev. S. N. King's " Italian Valleys of the Pennine
Alps," and Mr Tyndall's "Mountaineering in 1861" less
interesting to the lovers of nature in her highest solitudes.
The scenes beheld and the dangers encountered seem to
raise elle mind beyond the wonders of belief. Take, for
instance, the following description of Dr Tyndall's emo-
dons when standing on the summit of the Weisshorn after
a day of unusual danger : —" An influence seemed to pro
cued from the scone direct to the soul; the delight and
exultation experienced were not those of Reason, or of
Knowledge, but of Being. 'Twas part of it, and it of me ;
and in the tranecendant glory of Nature I entirely forgot
myself as man. Suppose the sea waves exalted to nearly
a thousand times their normal height, crest them with
foam, and fancy yourself upon the most commanding crest,
with the sunlight from a deep blue heaven illuminating
such a scene, and you will have some idea of the form un-
der which the Alps present themselves from the summit of
the Weisshorn. East, west, north, south, rose those ' bil-
lows of a granite sea' back to the distant heaven, which
they backed into an indented shore. I opened my note-
book to make a few observations, but I soon relinquished
the attempt. There was something incongruous, if not
profane, in allowing the scientific faculty to interfere where
silent worship was the reasonable service." The " Chap-
ter from the History of Science," by George Henry Lewes,
gives an analysis of Aristotle's scientific writings, which is
full of interest and information. In speaking of the homage
paid to the philosopher in his own time, Mr Lewes reminds
us that when Philip of Macedon invited him to undertake
the education of the youthful Alexander, the King thanked
the gods that his son lived in the same age as the great
stagirite. The account of the British Post Office, from the
earliest time down to Sir Rowland Hill's retirement, will be
found full of singular events in its progress from the Weekly
Post to the express train. Those who wish to know some.
thing of the marvels of its working should read Mr Lewin's
pleasant volume, and more especially his animated descrip-
tion of the scene at St. Martin's-le-grand from 5.45 to 6
o'clock daily. The newspaper window is of course the
busiest, and the boys in charge of the sacks are foremost in
the turmoil. "As six o'clock approaches still nearer and
nearer, tha turmoil increases more perceptibly, for the in-
telligent British public is fully alive to the awful truth that
the Post-office officials never allow a minute of grace, and
that Newspaper Fair must be over when the last stroke
of six is heard. One, in rush piles of laggard boys, who
have purposely lingered in the hope of getting a little plea-
surable excitement; two, and grown men hurry in with
their last sacks; three, the struggle resembles nothing so
much as a pantomime melee ; four, a Babel of tongues voci-
ferating desperately; five, final and furious showers of
papers, sacks, and bags; and six, when all the windows
fall like so many swords of Damocles, and the slits close
with such a sudden and simultaneous snap, that we natu-
rally suppose it to to a part of the Post-office operations
that attempts should be made to guillotine and score off
lames ; and then all is over so far as the outsiders are con-
cerned." The Blind Letter Office, where all illegible or
ill-addressed letters are sent, is one of the curiosities of the
establishment. Here are specimens which might puzzle
the most experienced of the sharp-eyed and sharp-witted
clerks who have to guess at the directions :

" Uncle John
Hopposite the church
London, Hingland."

"John Thomas
Coneyach lunentick
a-einem."
" Ash Berlles in such
for John Horse!, grinder
in the County of Lestysheer."
The schoolmaster, it would seem, has not yet completed his
rounds, and the unavoidable mistakes are as numerous as
the blunders from ignorance. The Dead Letter Office,
which once employed two clerks, now keeps nearly fifty,
and more than two millions of letters were last year re-
turned to their writers. All this labour is not undertaken
without profit, judging by the statistics. The Australian
Post Office produces a revenue of 3,714,200 florins, or
L 378,000 ; the Belgian, 2,960,000 francs ; the French,
66,452,000 francs; and the English, £3,800,000; being
more than a quarter of a million beyond the proceeds of
1862. " The Navy, Past and Present," is a paper that does
justice to the Admiralty for its stubborn resolve to be always
too late in doing the right thing.- " When steam ships of
war," says this writer, " were manifestly becoming
the fleet of the future, the Admiralty was assi-
duously multiplying sailing vessels. W hen iron had
superseded wood, the Admiralty was crowding its dock-
yards with enormous stores of timber; and when
subsequently condemned for continuing the erection of
wooden ships, its members replied that as they had wood
on hand they might as well use it." The financial manage-
ment has been on a par with the rest. The commissioners
reported that in one dockyard " there were no fewer than
7,900 errors in the accounts within eight months, in sums
ranging from id to £490; that an item of £1,200 for labour
was charged twice, and one of £5,210 was not charged at
all." So much for Admiralty finance I "Lawrence Sterne"
is a manly and straightforward estimate of the character of
our English Rabelais—the famous Yorick who once kept
the dinner tables of London in a roar. The author of
Tristram Shandy was a singular and wayward character,
but not in all respects so bad as he was sometimes painted.
" The Frescoes of the Houses of Parliament" is an article
imbued with individual views; still it stands up gallantly
for more liberality to the great workers on the walls of
legislative assemblies. The singular contrast in our na-
tional character—liberality in profusion to the people of
a purely commercial or combative turn, and the extreme of
meanness to men of genius, is cuttingly but deservedly ex-
posed and is warmly condemned. " Bluff Harry," says the
censor, "rebuked a courtier for insulting Holbein. Out of
seven peasants I could make as many lords, but it is out of
my power to make one Holbein. In a similar spirit we
would address the Government." Among the other
articles is an essay on the English writers before Chaucer
which discusses at some length the early origin and future
progress of our literature. Altogether the number is a very
interesting one.

Can You Forgive Her ? By Anthony Trollope.

No. IX, Chapman and Hall.

One touch of kindly human feeling has at last
come to us out of this current serial of Anthony
Trollope's—one touch of it, at last—but only in the
ninth instalment ! And it comes,this tardy indication
of kindly human feeling, from that hitherto " double
dummy" of a " walking gentleman," John Grey of
Nethercoats! From his suggesting to Alice's father
that she, Alice, had better be allowed to give every
shilling of her fortune to her worthless,worldly, turfy
affianced (re-affianced, it should be said) cousin,
George Vavasor. Mr. Grey is asked by that
hardly less cold-hearted worldly minded Mr.
Vavasor (Alice's father, that is), "And what is she
to do then ?" Here comes the touch of nature,
"Then—then—then—then let her come to me,"
said John Grey, as he speaks (we are told), " the
fragment of a tear in his eye, the accent of a quiver
in his voice !" Even old John Vavasor's worn-out,
unsympathetic nature is touched says the author
while relating the incident—" God bless you! God
bless you, my dear fellow r being his instant cx.
clamation. And after all we suppose that is just
precisely what it will all come to. Alice having
first been engaged to her cousin George, and then
breaking with him (we are never told why !)
becomes affianced to Mr. Grey of Nethercoats.
Jilting Mr. Grey (here, again, we can to this mo-
ment hardly conjecture why) she engages herself to
her worthless, schemeing horse-jockey, rascal of a
cousin. And now that she is thus engaged to George
—now that she has oace more brought herself to
this pretty pass, Alice awakens to the vivid recog-
nition of the fact that she loathes the man she has
promised to marry, and loves the man whom she
has previously jilted ! An after title for this dis-
agreeable story might have been the following—
" She would, and she wouldn't." Certainly, with
its present interrogative title we feel persuaded that
the answer vouchsafed to the author by nine-tenths
of his readers will be very distinctly and quite un-
mistakably in the negative.

Macaulay's history of England. Part XI. Peo

pie's Edition. Longman and Co.
Three more instalments of this serial popular Edi-
tion of Macaulay's great fregment of a history will
bring the work, so far as it goes, to a conclusion.
The present number, as it is, completes the third of
the four volumes into which the People's Edition is
divided—completes that third volume even to the
extent of giving the purchoser its title-page and
table of contents. The more we see of this popular
reprint of the literary masterpiece of Macaulay's
the more perfectly are we satisfied that the pub-
lishers are thereby raising the noblest monument to
the great writer's memory by popularising his repu
tation.

Afagazine.

" Wives and Daughters" is continued, and the
story increases in interest as it proceeds, There is