The Sun.
London, England, 1863-05-07 00:00:00

SPORTING

"I can assure you that they are the best terms I can
offer, in duty to myself and my children," said the pub-
lisher, mistaking the reason of his visitor's silence; "for,
sir, I am the father of a large family."
" I was about to say that I am perfectly satisfied with
your terms," responded Cecil; "and am ready to sign the
agreements directly. I suppose you have got a receipt
ready ?"

" You are right, sir, since you propose that the payment
should take place at once."
And going to his desk the publisher took from it some
papers, upon one of which he wrote some words.
" Five thousand francs I" soliloquised Cecil ; how fortu-
nate it is that I did not wait for the arrival of Jules'
Maecenas I"

" Here is the receipt, sir," observed Monsieur Isaac.
" I have signed both it and the agreement; you will have
on your side to sign the duplicate of the latter yourself."
" Why have you signed the receipt F" exclaimed Cecil in
astonishment; "it is for me to do that, as it is I who am
to receive the money."
"I beg pardon, sir," remarked the other, "hut I do not
exactly understand you; to what money are you allud-
ing?"

To the five thousand francs you are going to pay me,"
replied Cecil.
" Y. u mean the five thousand francs you are going to
pay me," retorted the publisher.
" I going to give you five thousand francs, sir P' ex-
claimed our hero. " What for 1"
"For publishing your novel, sir 1"
The disappointed author returns to his lodgings,
and flings the MSS. in despair into the corner of
his room. The next day, to his dismay, he finds it
has been swept away as rubbish, and, according to
French custom, become the property of some
chffonnier. As a very different specimen to the
scene above quoted, we ,a ill give a description of
the funeral service of a young musical composer,
who had himself, like Mozart, unwittingly com-
posed his own requiem :
"At first it was a plaintive harmony, full of soft melan-
choly, as if the sounds were the voices of pitying angels
asking pardon of God for mankind. The tone of the music
then changed, and was intended to represent the voice of
the eternal God, thundering in wrath against the ingrati-
tude of sinners, and announcing the chastisement merited
by their evil doings.
"At this moment there issued forth from the orchestra
sounds of wondrous import, now imitating the fury of the
tempest, now the rolling of the thunder, and with this wild
harmony mingled the roaring of demons rejoicing in the
wrath of the Deity falling upon the human race; and at
the same time there seemed to arise the agonised cry of
souls condemned to eternal fire.
"At this magnificent expression of divine indignation
and human suffering, the hearts of all present quivered
with emotion ; but by degrees the fury of the orchestra be-
came softened; the groaning of the damned and the roar-
ing of the demons ceased and the voices of seraphs seemed
to implore pardon from heaven. Then a gentle melody
appeared to explain to the faithful that God had just made
a new compact with man, and had said to him : ' Go forth
and glorify my name.'
" Strains of majestic gravity succeeded ; mortal man,
with his forehead in the dust, adored and blessed his
Creator.
"As was to be expected, the congregation was enraptured
by this powerful composition, at one moment plaintive and
touching, at another sombre and terrible. All present had
felt the emotions of the artist to their very heart's core ; and
in turn trembled at the wrath of God, and hoped in his divine
mercy. While the peals of thunder resounded beneath the
arched roof of the temple, they had bowed their heads sub-
missively; when the souls of the damned had groaned in
anguish, they had also sobbed and groaned; and when at
length the pardoned world glorified its Creator with strains
of love and prai.e, that crowd, in which were mingled fer-
vent and lukewarm breasts—that crowd had with one
accord fallen upon their knees upon the church pavement,
their hearts overflowing with hope and faith."ew_
at
az.
If this eloquent outburst be deemedeosiorms b
rhapsody
travagant, what will be said of c
Disraeli's
about love towardsex
lelthep
excepting
conclusionini
"love
volume ! Never, Mr. Disraeli'.
the third
"Henrietta Temple"—
out parallel in the
read of such ebullitions of
t a
extraordinary
bi c 11csiextravagance
oßrye'a'
um'sv Beaumont,
of its emotions--have we .
indulgedliteirnaryyexperience)
unrrietta (and like
here is a
him alone,
within the rang
htieonnsc!eciFl For
receives
v esCecil
example,altter from
Liketranspt the t lover
etrbo
eosefo fiioe.
Beaumont foams at the mouth in the paroxysms of
a friend to say that the family of
shciesnaefftehe atitonocacteuresmwo
his beloved have
returned to Paris:—
It would be useles to attempt to
rious madde • • , maddening describe the wild, el
d •
1-
impulse that
ipervade
young lover as he perused these d the frame of the
seemed raging in his soul---5 mighty
few words. A typhoon
course the sullen clouds and v mghty wind, dispelling in its
pense. apours of lung days of sus-

He was silent for a few moments, for he was tongue-tied,
though the big drop of perspiration that quivered on his
brow (:), and the slight foam that rose to his lips (I I),
proved the excess of his feeliags. But, as tho wind clears
the heavens, sudden, unexpected good tidings tranquilise
the soul.

The tumult of his mind gradual subsided ; the scudding
thoughts that for a moment had courscd about in such wild
order vanished and melted away, and a sentiment of bright
serenity succeded—a sense of beauty and joy, and of hover-
ing and circumambient hope.

In hie next work the author of Cecil Beaumont
must put a little restraint upon the ardour of his
imagination and temper the fervour of his descrip-
tions. We the more readily find fault with pas-
sages like the above, which are, to our thinking,'

Cecil Beaumont. By the Hon. Chas. Stuart Savile.
3 vole. Hurst and Blackett.
" Cecil Beaumont" is a book that is pleasant to
read. It is well written, the style throughout
is simple and animated, and the scenes and charac-
ters described are full of freshness and vigour. We
have been a good deal disappointed with the con-
cluding volume, we must admit. During two
volumes and more we had followed the fortunes of
the hero with interest, but after his varied and
numerous misfortunes the transition in his fortunes
is so abrupt, and the finale to the tale so couleur de
rose, that it reminds us of that last scene (who can
ever forget it ?) where Lord Dundreary, waving his
hand in a back-handed idiotic manner, exclaims to
his valet and his sweetheart—" There! bless you—
bless you! I suppose that's the ordinary thing !"
&c. Before alluding further to the conclusion, which
has disappointed us, we will first speak of the earlier
portions of' the story with which we have been at
times greatly pleased. The scene is laid in France.
Cecil Beaumont is the son of a locksmith of Cusset,
a small town in the interior of France. Having
evinced great abilities, and having distinguished
himself at the college of the department, ho is
brought to Paris by a speculative schoolmaster,
who for five years administers to his intellectual,
while he neglects his physical, culture, and sends
him back, at the expiration of his term of agree-
ment, emaciated and starved—a living skeleton—
but loaded with prizes and honours won at every
examination. Cecil, imagining himself to be" the
very type of a great man," begins life, like so many
before him, with exaggerated dreams of ambition
and a yearning for ideal felicity. One by one these
delusions are, of course, dissipated. At first he is
appointed under-clerk to a notary of his native
town, and is here initiated into the secret of law-
writing. "The most essential thing," says the
head clerk, who is instructing him, "is to
manage to stretch out what you write, so
as to make as many words as possible
and to write in large hand. Now the act of say-
ing very little in a great many words constitutes
the principal element of an avoue's science. The
man who possesses that art in perfection is pretty
nearly certain of making his fortune." That art,
however, is not possessed by Cecil, who is forced
to seek for fortune in another direction. He goes
to Paris, is enrolled as an avocat, but being too
honest to plead any cause unless convinced of its
justice, he makes no profit by his profession. He
afterwards turns author, takes a play to a manager
for perusal without obtaining any receipt, and the
play is brought out under another title as the
manager's own, and Cecil has no redress. He then
concocts a sensation drama, rightly called " a mon-
strosity." By the proceeds of this, of which he is
heartily ashamed, he manages to exist for a time.
We do not propose to follow him step by step in his
miscellaneous and interesting adventures, some of
which are sufficiently amusing. On one occasion he
has taken a manuscript to a Jew publisher, wLo is
willing to bring it out at the author's expense, and
the following ridiculous equivoque occurs :
" You see, sir, that the publication of a work of the sort
will ()Titan a heavy outlay."
" Of that I am perfectly aware," observed our hero ; and
pray, may I ask you to name what terms ?"
" What would you say to five thousand francs for the
first edition, the money to be paid in advance ?" said Mon-
sieur Isaac, blandly.
This was a sum so much beyond Cecil's expectations,
that for a few moments he was too much agitated to
reply.