The Sun.
London, England, 1846-12-19 00:00:00

LITERATURE.

PARTNERS FOR LIFE. A Christmas Story. By
Camilla Toulnim

This is another Christmas story—another of those
little volumes remarkable for their elegant appear-
ance and graceful illustrations, but, above all, for the
good moral which it is their high privilege to
incul-
cate, and the kind and Christian sympathies with
which they are suffused. In these essential
qualities, Miss Toulmin's book is certainly not
deficient. It bears a good recommendation on its
face; the binding is splendid, and theillustra-
tions, by John Absolon, are many of them very
graceful. The most beautiful of these designs—
rendered more beautiful by the idea which sym-
bolises—represents the Angel of Life chasing the
Shadow of Death from an infant s couch, while
a woman kneels in weeping gratitude by the
rescued child. The tale itself is purely domestic,
but it is not the less interesting on that
account. Unlike its competitors, this Christmas
story contains nothing supernatural ; its heroes
are only assisted by " the generous intentions and
deep sympathies, which, moving in the hearts of their
friends, are busy for them, like the good genii of a
fairy tale." The story is interesting, and is told
in an interesting manner, and it certainly
tends to stimulate kindly sentiments, yet we have
some doubts as to its beneficial tendency. Although
Miss Toulmin's object is, apparently, to prove that
" fathers and children, and brothers and sisters, so to
speak, are partners for life—this is nature's deed,
signed and sealed from the beginning ;" and although
the Christmas meeting at the conclusion represents
the happiness of an united family, we hardly think
the general bearing of the whole tale happily
calculated to illustrate her idea. The story turns
upon the different fortunes of two brothers, sons of a
very " great man," whose mental grandeur " was de-
rived from two sources—pride of birth and pride of
wealth. Like two streams meeting and crossing,
they hedged him round on every side, perpetually
threatening to swamp those better sympathies which
still did occasionally stretch beyond this chilly bar-
rier." The eldest son, in opposition to his father's
wishes, married a governess, and was, in con-
sequence, utterly disowned. This misfortune being,
however, somewhat compensated by the happiness
which he found in his new home, while his brother,
sacrificing his affections in obedience to his father's
commands, sought forgetfulness at the gaming-table.
This is how matters stand at the commencement of
the book. We will not spoil the interest
by further details ; suffice it that all ends
as all Christmas tales are bound to do.
in social harmony and the triumph of kind and ge-
nerous sympathies. The characters are well drawn,
and their various peculiarities nicely discriminated.
First and foremost, of course, is Mr. Hamilton
Howard Hamilton, the " great man, literally and
figuratively," and head partner of the great firm of
Hamilton and Co., and then there is the
" Co.", Mr. Jeremiah Merrythorpe, a most
interesting individual, whose heart " seemed
to pervade his whole being." This Mr. Merrythorpe,
whose character is the very opposite to that of his
partner, is of humble origin. " There was a family
tradition about a grandfather, but beyond him even
the oracle of rumour was silent," a circumstance
which gives some concern to his aristocratic
partner, who feeling great interest in him, tries
to believe that he is, nevertheless, descended from
a good family, because he has none of the bad quali-
ties which seem to; hint characteristics of the
plebeian ; " though really I must own," he observes,
" the world is so changed ; education, popular lec-
tures, and cheap literature have worked such marvels,
that a gentleman needs to carry his pedigree about
with him now-a- days, if he wishes to be dis-
tinguished from the herd." Such observations are
hardly required to assure i'diss Toulmin's readers
how much she sympathises with the levelling spirit
of the age. It is hardly necessary to particularise the
various portions of such a little volume—one simile
struck us as somewhat pleasing, where, alluding to the
memory of some long-past sorrow, she speaks of
the gentle and kindly effects of time, which "shows
the past by a softened light—even as, touched by the
silvery moonbeams, ruins are beautiful." The scene
in which the gambler confesses his errors to his
father, is very forcibly written ; and the various
emotions of the stern proud father, struggling, not
quite successfully, with the promptings of his better
nature, are all very naturally described. The picture j
of the humble home of the exiled son is full of inte-
rest ; and the character of his wife, minutely drawn,
so perfect and yet so natural, is worthy of general
imitation. We are always glad to meet with such
homely sketches, and such pleasing and imitable in-
dividuals ; not only do they render a work more
interesting during perusal, but they are calculated to
leave a good impression upon its readers—it is far
easier to teach by example than by precept. These,
and many other good qualities, are possessed by Miss
Toulmin's little book : our only objection to it is,
that, to our thinking, it seems to show how much
happier are those who act in opposition to parental
commands. We are not for a moment disposed to
contradict the universal theory of all romancists,
ancient and modern, in prose and verse, which has,
we believe, been agreed to nemine contradicente—
namely, that in forming the indissoluble partner-
ship, love is everything, and parental authority
nothing., Yet however correct the theory, it may be
somewhat modified in practice. It is possible in most
cases, by time and care and a thousand nameless inci-
dents, to effect a compromise:and avoid both unfortu-
nate extremes, neither sacrificing the hearts best
affections nor destroying the tender relations of parent
and child. Consequently we are not, in this respect,
quite pleased with this otherwise pleasing volume.
It is true, there may be such men as Mr. Hamilton,
and some children may he justified in their disobe-
dience, but such cases are rather exceptions to the
general rule, it is, therefore, as illustrating such an
exception that we must be satisfied with their Christ

nas tale, and we are satisfied with it the more readily,
because it merits such an appellation by showing how
kind and generous feelings ultimately subdue selfish-
Less and pride, and because it closes with the truly
Christmas celebration of a Christmas-day—the for-
giveness of wrongs and the union of the long-
stranged.

PICTURES OF COUNTRY LIFE, AND SUM-
MER RAMBLES IN GREEN AND SHADY
PLACES. By Thomas Miller.
All admirers of the stage must have often felt, that
the great attraction of any performance lies not so
much in the merits of the play, as of the actors. How-
ever much we may admire or applaud the fine
language or the noble sentiments in any case, yet,
sery different is their effect coming from different
sleakers. The dullest drama, the most common-place
dialogue, is invested with interest when the actor not
o:ay speaks, but feels what he says ; when, instead of
acting his part, he really becomes for the time the
individual he is supposed to personify. And so it is
it!l the world over; a good earnest purpose and real
feeling are worth more than any fine speaking, or
plausible rhetoric, or hypocritical ,eloquence (if there
can be such a thing). In few things is this more ap-
parent than in literature, half the value of a book
consists in the style of its author. It matters not
what it may be, prose or verse, gay or grave, politics,
love, learning; it signifies little, so it be written
con amore. If the author feels what he write, we must
perforce feel what we read. No author was perhaps
ever more enthusiastic on any subject, more imbued
with its spirit, or impressed with admiration for its
beauties, than is Thomas Miller when he writes about
the country. His "pictures of country life" are not
only faithful delineations of rural scenes; the
very glow of the sunshine seems to pervade them.
Full of reverence for Nature, under all her varying
forms; full of appreciation for the beautiful:; full of en-
thusiasm and admiration for a thousand rustic trifles,
he wanders through the groves and glades of merrie
England, luring us on, delighted companions of his
way. One very strange feature in this book is the
close union of contending principles ; with all his ve-
neration for the poetry of old customs, is mingled a
strong predilection for new reforms. Filled with
anger at the thoughts of the Enclosure Bill—filled
with sorrow lest any rude hand should molest his
beloved country scenes, he yet can rejoice, and
heartily, over the great improvements of modern
times. For instance—" Look at that board—why
this very woodland is to be let on building leases !
Heaven only knows where unborn generations will
have to go, in the course of time, to get out of London
into the country ! And yet, strange interposition of
Providence ! what we lose by distance we make up
for by the increased speed of travelling." These op-
posite feelings are, however, most apparent in the
chapter, entitled the " Twenty-ninth of May," which
commences with animated reminiscences of the
author's boyish days, and the exceeding delight ex-
perienced hy youthful gatherers of hawthorn and
oak-apples, in honour of the royal festival. After di-
lating on all the pleasures and beauties of the "dear
old custom," he turns from the poetry of romance
to the reality of politics
Memory! 'tis but little use thou and I journey-
Li-, back to those green, dreamy, secluded haunts; the
• light of truth, reflected from the pages of history, falls
upon these dear old customs, and, in spite of all our
love for them, showsl(l that they are truly ridiculous!
Sorry are we, grave
oaks! that ever we rent a leafy
honour from
yourrent homes aged old
sto commemorate so silly a
ceremony! A
grim old Druids! we
were innocent invaders of of th
yourseanctity,-we knew not
what we did!
,6 What then were we guilty of? Let
through this night of years. Alas! the image of the
erry Monarch overshadows it not e i us look back
, traitors that we
are! his memory is not even there. We but went out to
do observance to May;' to bring her home with much
green' and a sound of merriment: it was, after all, to
the month of flowers we paid homage. The represents,-
tire of majesty we did not kneel down and worship, even
when he sat enthroned in the royal oak; for it had been
the custom of our forefathers to pelt and hoot him;'
=mannerly dogs that trey were, they valued not his

royalty a rush. And yet there is a poetry about his
perils, a something to linger and sigh over, even in the
cold, uncharitable pages of history; and while we censure
the man, we seem to have a wish to love him. Poor his-
torians should we make after all; our love of leaning
towards human frailty would often cause us to show jus-
tice a cold shoulder.
" What a doing and undoing does this short sketch
present ! Ten years ago it would have been a pic-
ture overhung with green and garlands, teeming with
flowers and steeped in sunshine- Poetry without re-
flection, sentiment without thought, life such as we see
on the stage, where the actors move, and cross, and
smile, and bow to each other, but have no other share in
the stirring events of the drama; they come and go, and
so ends a pretty scene. Neither Charles nor Cromwell
would have appeared in our part had we written it then.
Whence comes this change ? Is the day at hand when
the name of the Royal Martyr will be blotted out of our
Litany, and that, too, by the consent of good and pious
men ? When Cromwell, instead of being considered
a kingly scourge, will be hailed as the great benefactor
of his country, and looked upon as one of the mightiest
minds that ruled the age in which he lived ? That day,we
believe, is not far off, neither is that change very re-
mote. The light which two centuries have elouded is
about to break forth, and reveal all the progressions
and improvements which science has made during this
long night of
,silent labour ; and the old mind, which
during this long period has seemed to sleep, is up and look-
ing out upon the new field which time has prepared for ac-
tion. The fossil bones of freedom have become hard as iron
during their long slumber,Tand now clothed with a new
body and a new life, they bid defiance to the old batter-
ing rams of bigotry, become stronger through the very
blows which are rained down upon them, and shrink
not, as of yore, at the touch of ancient superstition.
What England has been we know; what it will be ' hath
not yet entered into the heart of man to conceive.' "
This constant antagonism of principles—the linger-
ing love of old prejudices, and the earnest advocacy
of the very reforms calculated to overthrow them,
somewhat reminds us (to compare small things with
great) of Mr. Macaulay's description of Milton's
" inconsistency " where the imagination of the poet
is captivated by illusions against which the statesman
is proof. "It is the very struggle of the noble
Othello. His heart relents, but his hand is firm.
He does nought in hate, but all in honour. He
kisses the beautiful deceiver before he destroys her."
Perhaps the most interesting chapter is the " Summer
Ramble," where our author, taking us by the omnibus

to Camberwell, leads us a delightful ramble through
the beautiful country in the close vicinity of London.
From the wonderful naturalness of the descriptions,
from the careful painting of the minutest objects, the
whole is invested with an air of reality—rather let
us say the whole is real. We do not read the
author's book, we hear him speaking at our side ; we
do not ponder over his descriptions, we see before us
the scenes of which he speaks. "English Villagers"
contains some very natural portraits of country
people. After giving us some mournful details
of the domestic economy of the rustic poor, the
author very justly observes, " one half of the world

do not knOW how the other starve." The following
is a beautiful comment on the example afforded by
the life of the poor, speaking of a very aged man
grown old in poverty, the author asks :
"For what purpose was he born? what gap has he
filled up in the world, during his long life? Reader!
that old man is set before us as an example of patience,
endurance and long-suffering,—one of those set up to
show, that

" 'They also serve who wait.'
" All his life-long has he had to battle with poverty.
What veteran ever endured such continued hardships,
without murmuring ? His very rags ere venerable me-
dals, won in a long warfare with privation and want.
They tell of the hard campaigns he has weathered,
while his placid countenance bespeaks that all is calm
within. Is he forgotten by the rich ? No. There are
moments when his silver hairs, and his calm, resigned
features, rise up before them, and they feel as if they
ought to touch their hats, and pay respect to him, in-
stead of receiving such an act of undeserved honour
when he passes."

" County statutes," contains a little tale—very me-
lancholy, and rendered doubly so, because it is almost
true, founded on some of the cruel regulations which
cast such disgrace upon the authorities of poor-
houses, but which are now, we believe, somewhat
modified. Mr. Miller is as enthusiastic an admirer
of Shakespeare and of poets, as of the country, and
his volume is adorned with many quotations. The
illustrations by Samuel Williams are beautifully
designed and beautifully executed, infinitely superior
to those generally found in such works. The tale
of "Morton Marsh Manor-house," is not natural, it
may be as the author tells us, founded on fact, but it
would have been as well omitted. We have, how-
ever, said enough of this pleasant volume, we will
conclude, by quoting the author's remarks on the
changes of modern days. In the preface, he observes :
"Surely that man has lived in an age worth recording
who, from travelling three miles an hour in the old pon-
derous stage-wagon, or snail-paced market-boat, has
been whirled fifty miles in the same space of time by a
railway engine; who has ser.t a letter three hundred
miles for a penny, and seen her Majesty " black-balled,'
by her own paid postmaster, after she had been kind
enough to countenance the transmission; and when there
are grave men who believe with Wilkes, that hanging a
man is the very worst use you can make of him; and
others who think that it would be no sin to erect a statue
to Oliver Cromwell—that the stern Protector did not
govern England so badly after all, and that had not
King Charles been a knave, he would never have been a
martyr. Thtse are bold thoughts to utter, yet we hear
them every day, and no one now seems to make them a
matter of wonderment."

" The sun himself has turned portrait- painier, and our
likenesses are now drawn by the light of Heaven ;
while Titmarsh, having a week's holiday, sets out to
have a peep at the Pyramids, and just makes as much
preparation for leaving Curnhill for Grand Cairo, as our
forefathers did when they journeyed from Cheapside to
Clapham. If these are not changes enough, let us glance
at the days when Dryden was paid sixpence a line for
his poetry, to cur own, when five hundred pounds are
offered for the best play, the finest picture, and the
choicest statue, and neither a first-rate author, artist,
nor sculpture, thinks it worth his while to become a
competitor for any of the prizes."

MURRAY'S HOME AND COLONIAL Ll-
BRARY.—No.:XXXIX. Gatherings from Spain.
—Part I. By Richard Ford.
Ever welcome to us is a work treating of " sunny
Spain,"—the land of the grape and the olive—the
land of guitars and duennas—the land of castanets
and sombreros. Whoever has read "Gil Blas"—that
peerless romance—whoever has dipped into " Calde-
ron," or roared over the pages of " Cervantes de Saa-
velra," will always rejoice in anything appertaining
to the Peninsula. Those who have in imagination
tracked the armies of Napoleon'sionarshals through
the cork forests, or followed the course taken by the
Duke in his different campaigns, will devour with a
peculiar aridity any book descriptive of those memor-
able scenes. What mind that has scanned the triumphs
of the great Isabella over Boabdil, in the plains of
Grenada, what heart that has leapt with emotion at
the stirring ballads of the Cid, what fancy that has
restored to itself the pilgrimage of the immortal Co-
lumbus Through the groves of Andalusia, will not
recur with a strange pleasure to a kingdom illus-
trated by such glorious memories ? It is from the
combination of these reflections, and beyond all from
the melancholy abasement into which the proud and
noble race of Spaniards is at present plunged, that
works relating to the Iberian peninsula are so nume-
rous, and (wheres er they possess ability) so popular.
Washington Irving has written on Spain—and how
beautifully he has written ! Borrow has written upon
it, X. Y. Z. has written upon it, Lever is always
felicitous in his delineations of Spanish society and
Spanish scenery. We could enumerate a thousand
whose pens have been devoted to the portrayal of
that country. But why refer to other quarters ?
Here is the author of these " Gatherings," who has
already added himself to the number, by his delight-
ful " Band-Book of Spain." The present sketches
are peculiarly vivid and peculiarly picturesque. Their
rmost prominent characteristic is their naturalness.
There is not the slightest ostentation or pretension
about them ; and the only thing forced and quaint in
the 164 pages is the "dedication." We expect much,
and our expectations on closing the volume are realised.

COURT CIRCULAR.
WINDSOR, FRIDAY.—Her Majesty and his Royal
Highness Prince Albert, accompanied by the Prince of
Wales, Prince Alfred, the Princess Royal, the Prin-
cess Alice, and the Princess Helena, arrived at the
Castle at two o'clock this afternoon, from Osborne
House, Isle of Wight.

The royal suite consisted of the Marchioness of Douro
(Lady in Waiting), the Dowager Lady Lyttelton, Baron
Stockmar, the Groom in Waiting, the Hon. Colonel
Phipps (Equerry in Waiting), and Colonel Bouverie
(Equerry in Waiting to the Prince).
The escort was composed of the Ist Life Guards.
The Queen and Prince Albert were received, on
alighting from their carriage, by the Hon. Miss Kerr
and the Hon. Miss Paget (the Maids of Honour in
Waiting), the Earl of Listowel (Lord in Waiting), and
Major General Bowles (Master of the Household.
The royal dinner party at the Castle this evening will
include her Royal Highness the Duchess of Kent, the
Lady in Waiting of her Royal Highness, and the Ba-
roness de Speth.
The band of the Scots Fusilier Guards will attend
during dinner. Her Majesty's private band afterwards ;
attend in the Castle.

Their Royal Highnesses the Duke and Duchess of
Cambridge, and his Serene Highness Prince Frederic of
Hesse, visited her Royal Highness the Duchess of Glou-
cester, on Thursday, at Gloucester House.
A Cabinet Council was held yesterday afternoon at the
Foreign-office. The Ministers present were, Lord John
Russel, the Marquis of Lansdowne, the Earl of Minto,
Sir George Grey, Viscount Palmerston, Earl Grey, the
Chancellor of the Exchequer, the Earl of Auckland, Sir
John Hobhouse' Lord Campbell, Viscount Morpeth, the
Earl of Clarendon, and the Right Hon. T. B. Macaulay.
The Lord Chancellor subsequently joined his col-
leagues.

The Council sat two hours and a half.
The Earl of Mountcashel had an interview with Lord
John Russell yesterday at his official residence in Down-
ing-street.

MRS. TROLLOPE'S NEW WORK.
Now ready, at all the Libraries, in 3 vols.,

F A TII-ER EUST ACE.
A TALE OF THE JESUITS.
By Mrs. TUOLLOPE.
Henry Colburn, Publisher, 13, Great Marlborough-street.

Now in 3 vols , post Bvo.,
THE ROMANCE OF WAR;
Or, THE HIGHLANDERS IN SPAIN.

By JAMES GRANT, Esq., late 62d Regiment.

" Captain Grant is no novice in the use of the pen more than he
is in the use of the sword. Since the days of The Subaltern,' in
Blackwood's Magazine, that first and best effort of Mr. Gleig, there
has appeared no such admirable book on the same subject as ' The
Romance of War,' by the present writer."—Observer.
Henry Colburn, Publisher, 13, Great Marlborough-street.

Now ready, and may be had of all Boeksellers, in small 4t0., with
numerous Illustrations from Original Paintings, 21s.
ANECDOTES OF DOGS.
By EDWARD JESSE, Esq ,
Author of " Gleanings in Natural History," &c.
" A luxurious arm-chair book, in which we may read to our
heart's content of the most active, affectionate, and generous of
creatures."—Daily News.
Richard Bentley, New Burlington-street.
To be had of all Booksellers.

ILLUSTRATED TALE IN " TIIE MIRROR," Price Is.
On January 1, 1847, Chapters 1., 11., 111., and IV., of
T" S T R'S WILL;
Or, LOVE AND AVARICE. An English Tale.
By PERCY B. ST. JOHN.
The Mirror will continue to be Edited by Mr. St. John, assisted by
several eminent writers, and will be Illustrated in the first style of
art by Hine, Archer, and Walmsley.
Now ready, Vol. 1., new series, price ss. 6d.
H. Hurst, 27, King William street, Strand.