The Sun.
London, England, 1862-09-25 00:00:00

LITERA7U.RE.

John and I. A Novel. 3 vols. Hurst and Blackett.
Under this somewhat whimsical title we find a
novel abounding in clever delineations of character
and passion, as well as extremely pleasant pictures
of German rural and urban life. " John and I" are
two brothers of the prosaic name of .Brown; the
elder of whom, Henderson, tells the tale in ques-
tion, whilst the younger, John, figures as the hero.
Left parentless and penniless when the tale begins,
through the failure and death of their father, a
banker, they migrate to Germany, and proceeding
to Stuttgart, pay a visit to a maternal uncle, one
Colonel Blum, in the hope that through his recom-
mendation they may be able to procure some kind
of employment. In the expectation of being inde-
pendent they had been brought up to no profession,
though the elder, a bookworm, and of the mature
age of 37, purposes to take to teaching, and the
younger would like some light, genteel occupation,
in an office; in the meantime they become lodgers
in their uncle's family. " A week passed,"
says the narrator, " and we had as yet
obtained no employment, though I spent
every day in wearisome applications at schools
and mercantile offices. From these John had
generally begged off. He was too proud and
high-spirited to solicit a favour of anyone, and had
not yet received that experience which comes with
years, teaching us the difference between servility
and self-help, between real and unreal independence.
I would rather have stood in the square at Stutt-
gart, asking every passer-by,' Give me work' than
have run into debt with my good-natured but not
over-rich uncle. Therefore I persevered with a
brute-like stolidity, resolving to succeed at last.
For this superabundance of iron in my nature I
take no credit to myself. I do not know whether
it is a human virtue even, since this very quality
is shown in universal biography to have
been quite as often the secret of the
deepest evil as of the truest unlimited
good. In the case of a book-loving, unambitious
man like myself, who have lived, as it, were, out
of and in the reach only of mediocre
vices harm's way,
this same innate power of sub-
an
d
serving the intention to the fulfilment, has, I
thank God for it, made my life better and happier."
At length John obtains a situation as English and
French correspondent in a merchant's office at
Caunstatt, a spa on the banks of theNeckar, a short
distance from Stuttgart; whilst Henderson is en-
gaged as resident tutor in the family of the Baroness
Weiler, a widow lady, living at her country seat
about 20 miles from Stuttgart, and having two chil-
dren, a son, Carl, about eleven years of age, whose
education had been much neglected, and a grown
up daughter, Hermine, who resided with an aunt,
and it is chiefly in connection with this family
that the subsequent events take place. We extract
the following pleasant description of German
scenery and manners near to the birth-place of
Schiller :

I was soon summoned by the post-boy, a consequential
little fellow, small, but old, dressed in a gaudy yellow coat,
rather abrupt in the tapering of the tails, blue trousers, and
a black hat with slight pretensions to brim. His born was
tied round his neck with cord and green tassels, and though
there were only places for four victims, and we were packed
in so tightly that my uppermost thought during the whole
way was about the impossibility of getting unpacked again,
he still kept on blowing his horn with quite a martial air.
This made me think that he was fond of creating a sensa-
tion, but only an old woman at a bread and cherry stall,
and a flock of geese, were there to be impressed by him.
An important man, dressed like a policeman, mounted the
dickey by his side, and at last the old carriage started off,
the two officials quarrelling good-tersperedly all the way,
and we unfortunate passengers learning acutely every mo-
ment what the feelings of pigs and sheep must be when
packed for Smithfield.
I was so squeezed that I could not reach my head to the
window to look out. I could only see the boughs of fruit-
laden trees, which seemed to over-arch our heads all the
way ; and one can imagine the feelings of delight with
which I hailed the dirty village of Marbach, where
Schiller was born. Here I found an old-fashioned open
carriage, with two good horses, awaiting me; and though
the roads were bad and hilly, the grand moustached coach-
man drove at a brisk pace. The landscape had a pleasant,
prosperous, fruity look, that I liked. All the surrounding
hills were vineyards, whilst the level land skirting them
was irregularly planted out with flax, Indian and Welsh
corn, tobacco, and beet-root ; the whole scene reminding
you of an artist's palette, where many shades of green and
purple, burnt sienna, chrome yellow, and pale maize are
rubbed promiscuously. What would a Suffolk farmer say
to these hedgeless fields ? On either side of the road were
strips of orchard, and the trees dropped so luxuriously that
I could have plucked the fruit as I passed beneath.
Here and there a few women with bare heads were cut-
ting grass and digging fallow land ; or a stout girl, ven-
deress of coarse green earthenware from the town, would
be resting by the wayside, with her basket for once off her
head. Otherwise the scene was as solitary as the Snowden
district, till when you came to a village. Then the sound
of our wheels brought out the geese, the children, and the
cows, from the lower compartments of the houses to the
slough of despond, which formed a kind of washy embank-
ment in front of them—the men and women, combing flax
by their doors, would look up and give a courteous Gruss
Gott to me ;—even the stork on the quaint wooden tower
of the church would shift its standing leg, as if bound to
notice our coming,

The Baroness, whose age is about five and thirty,
is still beautiful, and with fascinating manners.
The daughter of an English lady, she had been mar-
ried at the age of 16 to the Baron Weiler, a man
many years older than herself, of selfish and dissi-
pated habits, and with whom she had no sympathy.
Her sister-in-law,who resided with them, used all her
efforts to estrange from her the affection of her chil-
dren ; thus her married life bad been far from happy.
Here, however, Henderson found a comfortable home
till the demon of discord entered in the shape of
his brother John, whose fatal gift it was to cause
women to fall in love with him. Thus he first
ensnares the youthful fancy of Sophia, youngest
daughter of his uncle Blum. Ottilie, her elder
sister, is his next victim, and on being invited
by the Baroness, together with the Blum family,
to spend some time at Weiler, he not only pro-
duces a tender impression on his hostess, but him-
self falls desperately in love with her. At first
rejected, he throws up his situation at Caunstatt,
and determines to depart for St. Petersburg, and
his brother Henderson volunteers to accompany
him; but before going he determines to try the
effect of a last interview with the Baroness. His
pleading on this occasion succeeds, and she consents
fginhouoilniii and
show
to become his wife. " I love you," said the Ba-
roness to John. " I think it no crime, no falling
off in duty to my children, to marry a man whom
I honour, and to whom I can look for support
and protection and love when they may both have
left me. I know that in the eyes of some this step
will lower me, as a traitor to the interests of my
family, as a heartless mother, and as a frivolous
woman ; but I love you—l feel that I can give
etyhoeru
the tender love of a wife without breaking other
any
ties ; and feeling thus, I am ready to
sake." Ottilie, however, as is very natural, l i
whether I
censure, any hatred, any contempt even,
ra, f_osr
byyonuor
means so well satisfied. "I do not know
she
says. " I
have to blame myself most or him,"
brother, Hen-
should not like to be unjust to y
kind to us, and
Icannot
Berson, for you are so
we all respect you so but help
such tender_
thinking it was wrong
makeo
me care for him at first,
nest towards me—to
before"—her voice shook a little—" before he saw
her. If you knew how changeless and quiet our
daily life had hitherto been, and how d'ft' 1 erent it
seemed when
I returned from Tubingee and found

~.4d.
STAMPED
....sd.

hint here, you would not wonder that 1 fell in love
with him. But let us talk of something else. The

more I think of my own folly, the more impatient
and angry I become." Nor was the match ap-
proved of by the sister-in-law or daughti.r
of the Baroness. Indeed the latter, Ilermine, her-
self soon about to be married, tries her utmost to
induce Henderson to prevent it, but without avail.
It takes place, and then the Baroness finds that her
son Carl, of whom she is dotingly fond, is, by a
deed signed by her husband in case of her second
marriage, placed under the guardianship of his
aunt Cal line until he is 18 years of age. Poignantly
grieved at this separation, the Baroness induces
Henderson to follow him as his tutor, and his con-
nection with the family is thus still intimately con-
tinued. Hermine now, finding that her betrothed
possessed a mistress and a family, breaks off her
engagement, mortally offends her aunt in conse-
quence, refuses t o go home, and, by the aid of
Henderson, finds refuge for a time in the house of
a village pastor. John and the Baroness now try
their utmost to induce her to live with them, but at
first without avail. Ultimately, however, she yields
to the entreaties of the former, when a new phase of
the tale begins. She falls passionately in love with
her mother's husband, he reciprocates the feeling,
strikes down his brother who attempts to remon-
strate, and departs suddenly for Berlin, leaving a
letter for his wife, in which he excuses his conduct.
She brings Henderson the letter to read. The
letter says :
" I stood as one in a dream. He had gone alone. My
passion of wounded affection and ardent championship, on
Marie's behalf, had caused me to magnify the evil in ima-
gination. True, that the sin might be the same in the
spirit, in the letter the difference was wide. Thank God,
Hermine was not henceforth irrevocably barred out from
her place among true women. My sister's hearth had not
been shamelessly violated in the eyes of the world. I almost
scorned myself for this thought ; yet cannot the world and
its opinions greatly influence a woman's life for happiness
or misery ?
He's gone, then the worst has not come ; Heaven
be praised for it I"

The words escaped me involuntarily, but Marie caught
them up with a glow of anger.
" You knew of this—you knew and concealed it from me!
I should as soon have expected the stars to fall as that you
should prove traitor to me, Heady 1 ''
"Marie, be calm—think, for one moment. Do you utter
the honest thoughts of your heart when you say such words
to me ? Granted that my eyes may have been opened only
two days ago to the great, great sorrow hanging over your
head—granted that I tried to avert the knowledge of that
sorrow and the suffering of it from you, from you, dear,
whom I love so well—and, if I failed, oh I Marie, it needed a
braver heart than mine to tell you of my failure in such a
cause."

Her face melted. Her poor trembling hand sought
mine, her lips bent over it.
" Good, true heart," she muttered brokenly, " would to
God you had no brother I—l could love you better then."
After this catastrophe Hermine returns to her
aunt, to whom she becomes reconciled. Marie (the
Baroness), through over-excitement, breaks a blood-
vessel, and is reduced to death's door, whilst John,
restless and unhappy, leaves Berlin, seeks an inter-
view with Hermine, takes to gambling, falls into
the clutches of a sharper, is imprisoned for debt, and
the infatuated Hermine not only sells her jewels,
and robs her aunt to relieve him, but goes off her-
self to join him. She is followed by Henderson,
who finds his brother stricken down by fear; Her-
mine, first justifying her conduct, leaves for Paris,
and Marie, although she comes to nurse her hus •
band, refuses to be reconciled, and the latter, on his
recovery, goes off to a situation at St. Petersburg.
Several years elapse ; Carl, who had been sent back
to his mother by his aunt, is about to proceed to the
University, when John returns. Sophie, whom
Henderson had married, makes a forcible appeal to
the Baroness; she relents, and the tale is, properly,
brought to a conclusion. That it contains abun-
dant evidences of power we willingly admit. The
characters are subtly discriminated, the pictures of
German life are admirable, but there is a repulsive-
ness about the rivalry of the mother and daughter
which detracts from the pleasure we should other-
wise feel in the work, and the author would do well
to shun such themes in future.

BURNING OF THE SHIP SOUTHERN
CROSS IN THE EAST INDIA DOCKS.

Early last evening a destructive fire, resulting
from the shipment of vesuvian lucifers, broke out on
board the fine ship Southern Cross, 700 tons register,
belonging to Messrs. Stuart and Co., lying on the
north side of the import basin of the East India Docks
at Blackw all. The ship was chartered for a voyage
to Bombay, and had nearly completed her loading
of a general cargo of merchandise. Her master,
Capt. Bristow, was on board at the time of the out-
break, the chief mate having charge of the vessel.
About twenty minutes to four o'clock, the mate
was in the cabin along with Mr. Stevens, the
foreman of the dock, who had come on board
for the purpose of making some arrange-
ment for reberthing the ship, as she had to
sail in a few days. All of a sudden a curious crack-
ling noise similar to the ignition of a quantity of
vesuvians was heard from below, followed by a
strong sulphurous effluvium. On reaching the deck
they saw the hands below in a state of great trepi-
dation and alarm escaping from the hold by the
main hatchway, and a vast quantity of smoke over-
hanging the top surface of the cargo. Immediately
afterwards another man was seen to come from the
after part of the hold, who seemed to be almost
overcome by the suffocating effluvium. When ex-
tricate], he stated that he was carrying a light
package in his arms to stow in the after part of the
ship when it broke in two, and the whole of the
contents burst into a flame and fell among the cargo.
He endeavoured to stamp out the burning mass,
but the suffocating odour compelled him to retreat,
and as he made for the hatchway the flames appeared
to follow him. All hands instantly set to work to
throw water into the hold upon the burning cargo,
but the fire gaining rapidly, the alarm was given to
the dockyard police to bring out the engines. Capt.
Worsell and Capt. Middleton, dockmasters, were
soon on the spot, as also Lieut. Sheppy, the super-
intendent of the company's police and fire brigade.
The land engines of the dock were brought to play
from the north quay, a jetty enabling them to be
worked almost alongside the ship. Two of the
company's steam-tugs, which are fitted with power-
ful fire-engine pumps, were also brought into the
I
import basin, and put into active operation with
every expedition. The flames by this time had ob-
the deck and
tamed a firm hold of the cargo, and
beams of the vessel had ignited, and were burning
ships being moored in close
furiously. Several fine
Cross, the dockmasters
proximity to the Southern
deemed it prudent to haul them off into the centre
of the basin, and out of the reach of danger. As it
was feared that the worst would befal the ill-fated
fire brigade was sent for, and Capt.
Shaw, the London
Shaw, the head of the force,
lost no time
with the in pro-
ceeding to the dock, steam land and
engines. Notwithstanding the enorl
quantity of water that
mous q was thrown down
into the bold, it became manifest that the fire was i
extending through the bulk of the cargo, and that
the destruction of the ship was inevitable unless
vigorous steps were taken to scuttle her. The dock-
masters and Lieut. Sheppy at once gave directions
to the shipwrights to
cutaway into the starboard
side of the ship and to bore augur holes into other
parts of the ship. The men at once proceeded with
the work, the engines continuing pouring water
into the vessel. At length the ship began to fill,
and as she settled down, the fire gradually decreased,
and about seven o'clock she sank, when the water
covered her cargo, and the danger ceased. At pre-
sent it is difficult to state the exact amount of da-
mage which the ship has sustained, but, according
to Captain Shaw's report, she is very seriously da-
maged by fire, and the cargo must also be very con-
siderably injured, if not partially destroyed. The
chairman and secretary of the East and West India
Dock Company were in attendance in the course of
the evening, and a preliminary inquiry was insti-