The Sun.
London, England, 1850-11-12 00:00:00

LYCEUM THE.A.TRE.

LITERATURE.

An adaptation of the comic opera Le Chaperan
Blanc was produced here last evening, under the
title of the White Hoods, and, although it is from the
pen of Mr. P ache, was magnificently put en the
stage, and bad the advantage of the inimitable acting
of Mr. Charles Mathews, in a character analogous to
the Simon Knippinclipper of Liston in Thirteen to the
Dozen, yet it achieved only a partial success, al-
though, if judiciously curtailed, we think it
might yet become a favourite. The scene is
laid in Bruges in the troublous slays of the Van Arts-
veldes, and the White Hood, from which it takes its
name, is the emblem of those " White-hoods" who,
according to Froissart, completely revolutionized
Flanders. Thus runs the plot :—Louis de Maele,
Count of Flanders (Mr. George J. Vining), who, at
the moment the piece opens, is threatened with an
insurrection of the citizens of Ghent, conceives a
passion for Marguerite (Miss Faany Baker), the
daughter of Jan Vanbloos (dea con of the druggists
of Ghent), and lays a plot for decoying her to
his palace, where he expoe ts to attain the
fruition of his wishes. In the mean-
time, Gilbert de Grossenha2rne (Mr. H. Horn-
castle) his pretended friend, who also has a design
upon Marguerite, is in league with the White-hoods,
or insurrectionist party, and at th:e same moment me-
ditates the destruction of the Cols nt in his palace, and
the capture of the fair one. This last scheme is frus-
trated by Peter Pestlework (Me. Charles, Mathews),
an apprentice to the druggist, who has assumed the
badge of the white-hood without; knowing its signi-
ficance, and who, at the moment the Count's life is
threatened by the insurrectionists, is instrumental in
saving him. In acknowledgement, of this good service,
the Countrenounces his own suit, I nd bestows the hand
of Marguerite upon Peterrestlewoi •k,her. accepted lover.
The piece was admirably actecli. Mr. Basil Baker,
who made his first appearance he re last night, is an
nexcellent representative of testr old men ; and his
daughter, Miss Fanny Baker, is t ull of animation and
vivacity, and makes an admirable soubrette. A novel
scenic effect, and beautiful as it is novel, was intro-
duced in the first scene. The ac ene is the interior
of the druggist's shop in the early morning ; the shut,
tern are shut, and the shop is in darkness ; but as
they are removed the light streams in, and
the whole shop becomes illumine teed. This beautiful
effect was loudly applauded. A grand fairy spectacle
called the Romance of the Rose., was also produced
last evening, and was most triuez phantly successful;
the plot is very slight. A misa;: thropic Count (Mr.
Clifford) is encouraged in his peg; ulisrity by a malig-
nant spirit, named the King of tb a Thorns (Miss Julia
St. George), who attends him isa the Chevalier Le
Sombre. The evil influence is counteracted by the
Queen of the Roses (Miss Kenworthy), who corrects
the Count whenever he vents his ill humour on his
servant Hans (Mr. Suter), and by showing him a
series of tableaux convinces him that the world is
beautiful after all. These tableaux, for the sake of
which the piece is evidently prod laced, consist of ele-
gant groups, arranged with great regard to pictu-
resque effect, and heightened by the beauty of the
young ladies composing them. Each of them is an
allegorical representation of one cif the four Rosicru-
clan elements, and the principle iss; a revolving hori-
zontal circle, familiar to the studie. of the sculptor and
the audience of poses plastigues, iti applied, so that the
group may be visible on every sisi e. The groupings,
which are designed by Mr. Be v erly, are the most
beautiful and graceful that can be imagined, and were
applauded enthusiastically. Miss. Julia St. George
was deservedly encored in a very la! etty song, composed
expressly for her by Mr. 1:'ully ; and a like
compliment was paid to Herr Pii; all, a German bass
singer, who made his first appo arance here, and in
the character of a goatherd sang a song, in which he
sustains a shake on a high falsette ) note in a most re-
markable manner. Miss Rosina Wright and the
ladies of the corps de ballet appears d in an exquisitely
graceful pas, entitled the Revel of 'the Flowers. The
dancing of .Miss Rosina Wright s as the very perfec-
tion of elegance and grace. The p iece was applauded
throughout, and at the coaclusio n the cheers were
enthusiastic. The house was ver' well attended.

NEW NOVELS.

LONDON, TUESDAY EVENING,

SINGLETON FONT.ENOY, R.N. By James
Hannay. 3 Vols.
THE L UTTR ELS. By Folkestone Williams. 3 Vols.
CLAUDE. By Mary Molesworth. 2 Vols.
THE DOUBLE OATH. By the Baroness de
C'alabrella. 3 Vols.
LIGHT AND DARKNESS. By Mrs. Crowe.
3 Vols.
THE ABDUCTION. By the Baroness Prockazka,
3 Vols.
LET TICE ARNOLD. By the Authoress of
" Emilia Wyndhanz." 2 Vols.
HEARTS 1N MORTMAIN, and CORNELIA.
1 Vol.
There is a season for all things, but for novels
there is apparently always a season. Every month
and every week of the vacati-At presents the reading
public with some new fiction, complete in three
volumes, or with some additional chapters of those
published in a serial form. Rarely have the lovers of
light literature been more bountifully provided than
at the present moment, now when Dickens has given
us the concluding chapters of one of the most de-
lightful of even his delightful works, and now, when
Bulwer is unfolding the opening passages of that
" novel" which promises to be the worthy companio..
of the " Caxtons. ' Thackeray's graphic pencil is still
busied with the foibles and follies of our modern
" Vanity Fair," and " Currer Bell," we doubt not, is
keeping a shrewd watch on the deeds and misdeeds of
her contemporaries, and preparing some new matter
of astonishment and delight for her admirers. It is
hardly necessary to enumerate all the names con-
spicuous in the varied and attractive list of novel
writers who are now enriching us with the fruits of
their genius and their industry—a list from which we
still miss with regret the brilliant author of " Co-
ningsby," than whom we could better spare many
others. The indefatigable James still plies his much-
used pen. Mrs. Trollope and Mrs. Gore are unex-
hausted ; and Mrs. Marsh, the charming authoress of
" Emilia Wyndham," is even now adding another to
her truthful records of woman's life and her exquisite
delineations of womanly character. Miss Jewry, the
able writer of the " Forest and the Fortress ; ' the
earnest and deep-thinking author of " Silwood ;"
Lady Yonsonby, the admirable expositor of the
" Discipline of Life ;" the talented biographer of
" Anne Dysart ;" the eloquent writer of " Mary
Bsrton"—a work unequalled of its class—and many
other of our young authors and authoresses,
hold out fair promise for the future to the novel-read-
ing world. Bearing in mind these and other novels,
and novel-writers, not here mentioned, we are disposed
to examine with especial scrutiny, and perhaps with
excessive severity, the new fictions which are from
time to time presented to us. Differing, as the various
productions of different writers necessarily must in
style, and sentiment, and subject, there is one mea-
sure, nevertheless, by which we are disposed to test
the merits of every fictitious tale, namely, in the truth-
fulness of its representation of life. While we must con-
fess we have little sympathy fora novel which is writ-
ten with sotne avowed and apparent object, we regard
with especial predilection those fictions which simply,
but faithrully hold the mirror up to nature, and without
parade or ostentation, withouatnedxhilboivtiinngglythabeowgrauves
coofutnbteensacnbcoeolomf
athsteer, m, ogneintotrly, or wielding the ferule
what we are and what we should be—doing good by
stealth, charming instead of chastising the wayward
and undisciplined heart. Such novels there are.
Such gentle lessons we have learned by the death-
bed of Dora, or in the humble boat-house on the Yar-
mouth sands. Such gentle lessons we have learned,
when we followed the despairing Roland De Caxton
in his melancholy pursuit of his profligate son, or when
we listened to the words of simple wisdom falling from
his brother's lips. Such novels there are. Why
are there not more of them ? History is filled with a
pompous chronicle of events, the causes of which she
can seldom unravel, for those causes are often too in-
tricate or too minute to be perceptible to the most
searching scrutiny. A spark produces a conflagra-
tion, and a word may sometimes occasion conse-
quences as important.
" A something light as air—a look—
A word unkind or wrongly taken"—
may make or mar the happiness of a lifetime. And
here it is that we hold the services of the novel-
writer to be invaluable. By his faithful portraiture
of human life and human character, by showing us
not " faultless monsters," but men and women like
those actually around us, he may, if gifted with
sufficient powers of penetration, reveal to us the secret
but effectual agency of trifles, and make us know by
example how momentous are the consequences of
those words and actions which we are too apt to dis-
regard as insignificant. The influences of indivi-
dual character upon society are incalculable, and
equally incalculable and important are the influences
which mould that character for good and evil—influences
as imperceptible as the air we breathe, but more potent
than the lessons conned in childhood, or the homi-
lies pondered over in riper years. Many persons ob-
ject to " novel-reading," because it unfits those who
indulge in it for the realities of life, bat when novel-
writing is what it should be novel-reading produces
an opposite effect. So far from making life appear
tame and insipid, it points out to us its real grandeur
and importance. So far from inclining us to fold our
bands in inaction, it impels us " so to act that each to-
rbfmaadu
a:
nfo a
faithful
n dd
pmorrow find us further than to-day." As the teachers
of such practical truths, we hold the position of novel-
writers to be most honourable, and knowing them to
possess such a capacity for good,
-we are apt to regard
we
he e their
desirecompositions
see
adviceicture s of or
the admonition.
withnovels
filledc
urio u
with scrutiny.
sermons, Noont thattie
l
contrary, some of the very best hardly contain
ti° bynn
iget ho
charm
bdi word
r
ininsdtriuffeetretnbt,eitrhraetadtheerys. atHtohwe
man same
mean, unworthy actions that do not absolutely in-
omnaintion. heart, It
as
it
in-
fringe the moral code the best of us are prone to
commit,until, in considering some imaginary character
in the selfishness of
of a Waverley, a a Chuzzlewit, or the irresolution
voice seems to whisper, Mu,tato
nomine de to fabula narratur. Therefore, we say
again,
rl ethrite most essential characteristic of the
Ills Truth. No matter whether his
w
her(Jes be virtuous or villainous
provided they be life-
like—the moral of their histories will
tbobvious
fie or
rand require no explanatory k Suchen con e os.dio
era-
tions are naturally au ey.
ggested by the variety of
" novels" which have recently claimed our attention.
Now Mr. Trollope directs our thoughts to the heroic
struggles of Vendean loyalty,
now Fenimore Cooper
excites our interest by a tale American
of jurispru-
dence, now Alton Locke revives
anew the difficulties
and the delusions of Chartism; then Mrs. Crowe mys-
tifies and appa.s us with another revelation of horrors.
Novels as various in character as the colours of their
binding (for the old-fashioned uniform is disappear-
ing) are before us. Among the most attractive of
these miscellaneous fictions is the first novel (we have
seen) of a promising writer.

Singleton Fontenoy, ILN-.
By James Hannay. 3 Yo/s.
From the initials appended to his name it will be
observed that " Singleton Fonteno" forms part of
e novel which the royal navy, and th bears his name
is, to a certain extent, a sea-story, but to a certain
extent only. Land and water, politics and naval
matters, the most serious and the lightest topics, are
touched upon with an equally skilful band, and ren.,
dered equally attractive. " Singleton Fontenoy "
s, in
the truth,
reader
i lures 0:
from most
page fascinatingto work—
without possessing deep interest,
it
any very
page, from subject
to subject, never wearying, and continually affording
amusement or suggesting thought. In the first
volume we find the young Singleton at home in a
country house, with an unsociable father. In his
neighbourhood resides the family
.of the Lepels. The
eldest stop, Frederick Lepel, J 'lst' returned from
college, ,Wears spectacles to increase his apparent age,
frequents Chartist meetings, and aspires to fill a pro-
minent political position. The character of this clever
but insincere schemer is happily drawn, and is pro-
bably not without its counterpart. From politics
we turn to school, after 5 stormy expulsion
from which young Singleton is sent to sea.
Mr. Hannay's naval experience is visible in
his sketches of the various commanders and
companions with whom Singleton's sea-life makes him
acquainted. In this part of the narrative occurs a most
affecting episode, which better than a hundred argu-
ments exposes the horrors of the unmanly punish-
ment still retained for the sake of " discipline. One
of the sailors of Singleton's ship is flogged, and the
revolting scene is shortly afterwards followed by a sea
funeral—that of the very man who had been punished
(his death being the consequence of an accident quite
irrespective of the punishment). Officers and sailors
stand bareheaded round the corpse ; the utmost solem-
nity prevails ; every passible respect h testified to-
wards the corpse of him who, when alive, was,treated
as some soulless brute—" Death had vindicated the
sanctity of man." This beautiful sentence sums up
the impressive lesson so forcibly set forth by these
contrasting scenes. Now in England, now
in the satiny south, now serious and thoughtful, now
rash and reckless, Singleton pursues his varied career
throughout three u delighLf
. l volumes, and at last we
part from him with regret. Many beautiful thoughts
we might transcribe from the pages of this work—one
or two will, however, serve as an ensample of the rest.
Speaking of the infidel reasoning of the so-called phi-
losopher, how truthful is the sentence--" Philoso-
phical dreams are very well in the study, carry them
to your loved one's grave and see how they will console
you there." Again, with equal felicity, it is said of
those good impulses which occasionally influence us,
they may be "vibrations of the heart under the
touch of the finger of God." Among some sensible
remarks on oratory, we read "the true orator is the
poet of the practical; he has to bring a great imagi-
nation and a deep heart to deal with the business
of his day, and by waking what:is necessary glorious,

NOVEMBER 12, 18b0.

and elevating duty into something divine, he should
be able to touch the heart of the multitude abroad as
religion or poetry touches it at home." For Carlyle
and Emerson, and some others, Mr. Hannay evinces
a great enthusiasm. After quoting:a sentence from the
latter, he observes, in a foot-note, that he has com-
mitted an anachronism, but adds, "I would risk a
worse fault to introduce a line of Emerson's." Again
of " Pendennis," he observes that it unites " the
good sense of a homily with the easy charm of a
novel." These generous remarks are the more de•
lightful, because, as Singleton observes, " the error of
our time is not that of admiring too much." Cordially
do we commend " Singleton Fontenoy," because,
with some artistic faults, apparently the results of
hasty composition, it will delight those who peruse it,
and some of its suggestions will linger lovingly in
their remembrance.

The Luttrels; or, the Two Marriages. By Folkcs

stone -Williams. 3 Vols.
The author of " Shakspere and his Friends" and
" Maids of Honour," two very dissimilar but most
delightful works, has not added to his celebrity by his
recent production. Clever sketches and abundant
evidences of talent are to be met with in " The
Luttrels," but the main incidents of the tale are so re-
volting that we can pronounce no commendation upon
the work. The unnatural incidents which so often
shock our tastes in foreign romances have rarely ex-
ceeded in unnaturalness the mystery of " The Lot-
trels." The " Two Marriages," which give the
second title to the book, are the real and pretended
unions of one heroine to two individuals bearing the
close relation of father and son. Until nearly the
close of the tale the reader is ignorant as to which is
the real husband of Lucy; and the hero of the tale
(young Luttrel) encounters in his wanderings a
namesake, the son of Lucy, whom he believes to be
his brother, but who ultimately proves to be
his son. With such incidents for his theme,
Mr. Williams must forgive us if, in spite of a
pleasant recollection of his former works, and, not-
withstanding the talents visible in this one, we dismiss
" The Luttrels" from our consideration with senti-
ments of exceeding dissatisfaction.

Claude; or, the Double Sacrifice. .By Mary Moles

worth. 2 Vols.

It is far more agreeable to commend than to censure,
and " Claude" affords us ample opportunities for com-
mendation. Let us, however, before beginning that
grateful task, hint to the fair authoress that a
woman's pen, no matter how ably it may touch upon
the most important topics, should always preserve a
peculiar grace and softness of expression. While
" Claude" abounds with beautiful thoughts, there are
occasionally to be met with sentences, sometimes put
into the mouth of Ada, its heroine, which we are in-
clined to think deficient in feminine delicacy. These
blemishes are only trivial ones, but we particularise
them because the authoress evinces such a capacity of
feeling and such a power of expression, as in-
duce us to slumber her among our writers
of fairest promise. " Claude" may be divided into
two parts—the one, gay and sparkling, fascinates from
its vivacity of style and variety of scene, while the
other is rendered yet more fascinating from its
genuine pathos and enthralling interest. In the com-
mencement of the tale the beautiful, clever, and
wealthy Ada Franscillon is wooed by many suitors,
but persuaded by none, and, in her conversations
with an anxious aunt, the fair lady evinces a wise
conviction that a single life is an infinitely happier
lot than a marriage of convenancel or ambition. In
this part of the narrative occur many shrewd obser-
vations and much brilliant writing. Ultimately,
Claude makes his appearance, and after some of those
difficulties which proverbially impede the course of true
love, is betrothed to Ada, and now commences the
mournful but most beautiful portion of the narrative.
The young officer (he is in the army abroad) is about
to return to claim his bride, when he receives a
wound which threatens to prove mortal. He
comes home in the daily expectation of
death. The womanly character of the gay and bril-
liant Ada now becomes apparent. There are passages
towards the close of the simple narrative (the first
volume of winich abounded with matter of amuse..
ment) which it is hardly possible to peruse without
tears. We shall not say how the " Double Sacrifice"
is terminated, but we commend " Claude" to the at-
tention of all who can sympathise with a truthful
picture of human hearts agitated by the most sub-
lime emotions.

The Double Oath. By the Baronness de Calabrella.

-3 VOlB.

The principal incident of this novel somewhat re-
minds us of the main feature of Miss Edgeworth's
" Helen." Like Helen, the virtuous but too easily
guided heroine of the " Double Oath" is exposed to
unjust suspicions, from which she cannot clear her-
self without inculpating a married friend. The cha-
racters of the two ladies chosen by the Baroness Cala-
brella as the heroines of her romance are totally dissimi-
lar, but their different portraits are sketched with a skil-
ful hand. The one is favoured by fortune and the other,
jealous of her companions's, superior lot, devotes her
very considerable abilities to her own aggrandisement.
To effect this end she scruples not to sacrifice the
dearest feelings of her own heart, and, consequently,
even though for a time successful in her schemes,
she reaps nothing but misery. The climax of the
tale is horrible and somewhat overdrawn, but the
moral is good, and some of the characters introduced
are very attractive. Of these is the charming Lady
Horton, who, possessed of most refined tastes and
mistress of various accomplishments, finds on her
marriage that her husband, notwithstanding their
mutual attachment, has no sympathy with her pur-
suits and is devoted to agricultural cares and sporting
pleasures. The secresy with which the fair
Julia conceals her disappointment, the amiability
with which she adapts herself to her husband's views,
and the dexterity with which she wins him to more
intellectual occupations, is cleverly described, and
conveys an instructive lesson.

Light and Darkness. By Mrs.,Crowe. 3 Vols.
The title of this novel, and the name of its
authoress, sufficiently indicate its nature, and pro,
raises a rich treat to the lovers of the supernatural,
but not the lovers of the supernatural only will be
gratified by these three volumes. They contain tales
of different lengths, some of which have already ap-
peared in print, of very various characters, reflect-
ing the lights as well as the shadows of life. The
" Two Miss Smiths," for example, is a sprightly and
humorous sketch ; and " The Bride's Journey," on
the other band, possesses a ghastly fascination. One
of the best stories, " The Money Seekers," contains
As much matter of interest as a three-volumed novel
or a five-act play. Some of the situations are capital,
and the denouement, though of a tragic nature, is
most felicitous.

The Abduction. A Tale of Mesmerism. By the
Baroness Prochazha. 3 Vols.
Less " light" and " darkness" of a yet deeper hue
characterise this mysterious tale. The lovers of ro-
mantic horrors, who mourn for the obsolete produc-
tions of the Minerva press, and the mysteries of Mrs.
Radcliffe and Horace Walpole, will greet the
Baroness Prochazka with a hearty welcome. Her
work is a felicitous specimen of its class, a class for
which we entertain little sympathy. It abounds with
murders, and mysteries, and dark prophecies, and
birds of ill omen, &o. The third volume is of a less
horrible character, and it is very skilfully invested
with considerable interest. The young daughter of
the unhappy hero and heroine of the first volume is
the subject of the "abduction," she has been
spirited away. After much difficulty her father
recovers her (as he supposes), but the reader
is bewildered by doubts as to her actual
.
identity. A mesmeric doctor
.and his clair-
royante patient throw some light upon the mysteries
py their revelations. Evincing considerable ability,
and abounding in horrors, this tale will in all proba-
bility find admirers.

Hearts in Mortmain, and Cornelia. 1 Vol.

"So often on its hinge before,"

Lettice Arnold. By the Authoress of "Emilia Wynd-
ham." 2 Vols.
..._

Totally dissimilar —in style and subject to the
last-mentioned tale of terror is this delight-
ful book. The perusal of anything by Mrs.
Marsh is, to use an old metaphor, refreshing as a
ramble in the green fields in spring. This delightfulpeculiarity, which pervades all her writings, is in none
more apparent than in " Lettice Arnold." Lettice
herself is a generous hearted, cheerful-spirited
creature, somewhat resembling in character " the
dearest girl in the world," beloved by Thomas
'waddles. Catherine Mehryn also appears like
a sunbeam upon the scene. Contrasted with
these is Myra, spoiled and selfish, miserable
in herself and inflicting misery on all about
her. In the course of the story some
glimpses are thrown upon the condi-
tion of the over-tasked dressmakers, and the
benevolent Mrs. Fisher holds up a bright example
to the mistresses of large establishments. Every two
hours her hard-working stitchers are allowed a few
minutes to stretch their weary limbs—weary with in-
action ; and the increased industry consequent upon
these
pauses is found to more than compensate for
the trifling loss of time. We shall not attempt to
give any inkling of the story of " Lettice Arnold,"
seeing that the charm of Mrs. Marsh's charming
tales consists more in their characters than in their
incidents, in their style than in their theme. Heartily
commending the two volumes to all who love natural
pictures, we quote the following too little heeded
truth for the benefit of those who may not meet with
" Lettice." Politeness, we are reminded, is
A charming thing in itself, and when exercised in
the domestic relations smooths and sweetens the current
of life to an incalculable degree. It enhances the value
of a really gentle and kind temper; it softens down the
asperities of a harsh and rugged one; and to an extent,
of which many vorthy people who mistake politeness
for insincerity, and think a blunt roughness of demea-

nour a warrant for the honesty and truth of their affec-
tions, seem to be little aware."

Instead of spinning out one little story into three
volumes, the author of this work has given us two
delightful novelettes, in one book. " Cornelia"
abounds in incident and matter of interest, but
" Hearts in Mortmain" is, to our thinking, its su-
perior. Both tales display considerable ability, but
the first overflows with pathos. It is simple, even to
naturalness. Its curious title, " Hearts in Mort-
main," is occasioned by the incident on which the
whole story is founded. A dying father demands
from his daughter a solemn promise 'that she will
never marry a cousin and companion, with
whom she has been familiar from childhood.
The promise is willingly made and faithfully kept,
although soon afterwards poor Ethel has cause to re-
pent her ready vow. The different conduct of the
two sufferers, the resigned, self-sacrifieing Ethel, and
the passionate, undisciplined Edward, is most force-
fully portrayed. The passionate wrestling of a re-
bellious heart, and the calm serenity of a self-con-
quering spirit, are most naturally and powerfully
depicted. One lesson is learned from the tears and
anguish of these sufferers—the virtue and the efficacy
of truthfulness. Ethel, acting for the best, preserves
a fatal secresy on most momentous matters,
and with a cruel kindness adds to the sorrows
she is aaxious to diminish. As showing the ill-
effects of such a mii!aken course "Hearts in Mort-
main" is worthy of perusal, independently of the
attractive nature of its exquisite and natural delinea-
tion of human feeling.
"Alton Locke," and some other novels, still
remain to be considered. We must defer
them until another opportunity—those already
enumerated, however, afnrd a fair specimen in num-
ber and variety of the novels of the last few weeks,
most of them possessing considerable attractions,
but few conspicuous for any transcendent merit.

HISTORIC SCENES AND POETIC FAN-
CIES. By Agnes Strickland.
" This volume," writes the authoress in her pre-
face, " contains my earliest literary productions,
written when the vivid feelings and perceptions of a
young heart and ardent imagination found their natu-
ral language in poetry." As such, as containing the
early writings of the authoress of " The Queens of
England," this volume possesses peculiar interest. In
its general features, and more especially in the choice
of the various subjects, we easily recognise indications
of the tastes and habits of thought of the future his.
torical biographer. Tnose romantic incidents, rendered
more romantic and more interesting from their truth-
fulness, which abound in every history, are favourite
subjects of contemplation to Miss Strickland, and
many of her " poetic fancies" are suggested by "his-
toric scenes." " Queen Mary's Welcome," " The
Escape of Mary Beatrice and her Babe," " The Part-
ing of Louis XVI. and his Family," " Sultan
Amurath's Dream," "The Earthquake of Callao," and
many other attractive themes are celebrated in verse
and illustrated by a prose description. The prose
account of " The Sister Cities of the 'Thames"—
London and Westminster, is full of most valuable
and interesting information regarding the early
history of the metropolis. In addition to the
historical poems, the poetic fancies comprise subjects
of all kinds and characters, many of them very grace-
fully and exquisitely portrayed. Among the best are
pieces descriptive of the varying seasons of the year,
flowers, and other themes connected with the beauties
of nature. " The Seven Ages of Woman," in allusion
of course to Shakspere's " Seven Ages of Man," is
gracefully written, and abounds with beautiful and
womanly thoughts. The seven ages are those of
the infant, the girl, the maiden, the wife,
the mother, the widow, and the old lady.
" Night in the Metropolis" and " Morning in the
Metropolis" are the subjects of two beautiful poems.
Of a different character are the musical lines on " The
Birth of Spring" and "The Death of Summer."
Dissimilar in their subjects and in their styles, the
various poems and prose pieces here collected form a
very attractive volume, likely to be perused with
pleasure by the numerous admirers of the accom-
plished authoress. To add to these attractions, it is
graced with a portrait of Miss Strickland.

THE ECLECTIC REVIEW.
The " Character and Career of Csar," as set forth
in Mr. Merivale's " Roman Empire," is the subject
of a severe censure on the part of the Eclectic reviewer.
Wordsworth's "Prelude," on the other hand, gives
occasion for a genial eulogium on the departed Poet
Laureate. Without fully concurring in the reviewer's
estimate of the author of " the Prelude," we have been
struck with the justice of some of his observations, as,
for instance, where he says, " every great poet passes
through a fourfold state in regard to the world. First,
his peculiar qualities are ignored; secondly, they are
acknowledged ; thirdly, they are appreciated ; and
fourthly, they are canonized. Wordsworth has only
as yet reached the second stage. His merits are gene-
rally acknowledged, but generally appreciated they
are not, nor are they soon likely to be."

SHAR.PE'S LONDON MAGAZINE.
Sharpe's may now rank with the most interesting
of the monthly periodicals. In the November number
we find "A Sea-side Sketch," by Agnes Strickland,
which possesses a very mournful interest.
"Lewis Arundel" continues with unabated
spirit. The maxims of La Roche foucauld, as recently
published by Messrs. Longman, are the subject of an
interesting criticism, and in addition to a variety of
other attractive articles is a beautiful plea for " Me-
mory," by E. E. M. K., founded upon that touching
aspiration which occurs in " The Haunted Man,"
" Lord keep my memory green." As a specimen of
its eloquence of style and tenderness of thought, we
quote the concluding passages of this delightful article,
evidently written from the heart, and as such appeal-
ing to the hearts of those who read it :
" ' Lord, keep my memory green!' echoes instinctively
in the heart of the wondering child, as it looks upon the
leafless boughs of winter, and seeks in vain for the wild
towers striped and golden,' it was wont to gather in the
merry hours of summer. It remembers them, the blue
violets—those deep eyes of the young spring first gazing
upon us so slyly—the cowslips of sunny May; and Hope
weaves a garland afresh—a garland of promise that they
shall leaf and blossom again, when warm days, and
cloudless skies, and fertilizing dews return. Lord,
keep my memory green!' trembles on the wan lips of
the weeping mourner, whether it be over the dead or the
dying those agonising drops be distilled. It wells up
there from the stricken yet disciplined heart in the half
audible appeal for strength addressed to those ears which
are never closed against us. Teach me to remember
that Thou haat promised succour to all who call upon
Thee in the day of tribulation—that this is not our
true country, that here life is made up of meetings and
partings, and that it is only hereafter we may anticipate
the bliss of an inseparable companionship."rrue, me-
mory is potent to stir the storm of natural regrets, to
rend the heart with the thought of present desolation, to
convulse the lip when its cry of endearment comes back
unanswered, to thicken the breath with a sense of suffo-
cation at the threshold of that chamber whose closed
door—

bespeaks the stillness of the sleep within, to flood the
eye with ungovernable tears by recalling the bloom, the
life, the love, the beauty, that so lately animated that
shrine of dust, and have now left it ripening for decay.
True, it is potent to awaken thus the fierce tides of
mental anguish, to prostrate our moral courage, to over-
come for the time being even our physical powers; but
how sovereign is the antidote it at the same time affordei
how specific the balm of its spiritual consolation!
" Memory is my solace,' sigh the separated in life.
They who are the victims fan untoward fate; knit to-
gether by the bonds of affection, yet divided by an ocean
of adverse circumstances to think of the absent, to keep
them shrined in the sanctuary of the mind, to call back
the tones, the smiles, the words of endearment, the
winning gentleness, the frank pleasantries, the laugh,
the glance of sweet surprise, the warm fervent pressure
of the hand, are surely privileges teo dearly prized to be
relinquished without reluctance by the exiled from home:
we say home, because of the accepted creed that—
"'Tis home where'er the heart is."
" Memory is that sunshine we see beaming so oft in
the face of venerable age. He is thinking of his youth!'
we say, when the smile of happy abstraction, like a
breath of summer, melts into touching softness of ex-
pression the time-worn lineaments of the hoary dreamer.
He is back with his early childhood, when the world
seemed all so good and beautiful, and men just what
their Maker first designed them to be, only a little lower
than the angels;' back with his happy school-days, when
application and ability were first coined into the gold of
knowledge; back with the merry troop *ho went
bounding out to play;' back with his dawning manhood,
which still is youth, when passion, kindled at the shrine
of beauty, offered up its first, its purest eeerifide, an
unsullied and devoted heart. He thinks, he ponders on
all this, and if a cloud of regret arise, it is but mo-
mentary, for though the nerveless arm, the failing eye,
over which the film of age is gathering fast, the silvered
locks, the faltering step, are all solemn evidences that
the winter of life has set in for him, memory is at hand
with her antidote; at hand with the balm of consolation.
She tells him that these are but incrustations wrought
by time on the surface, which eat not their way within;
the soul of man being impervious to all blighting in-
fluences; its dower being that of perpetual youth.
" Memory is the guardian angel even of the wicked.
How often does it step in between the intention end the
guilty deed, staying the murderous hand, whispering
admonitions long forgotten, stirring the callous heart to
a sense of good, softening, subduing, winning it! Truly
may we repeat, it is their guardian angel, though it is
doubtless these who would clamour for its destruction,
who would exclaim,' Away with it—away with: it; it
is the bane, the curse of my life!' If there be really
any existing whose graceless tongues could dare thus to
execrate aught so sacred, we cry, ' Pause
ere thou condemn,' and opening for them afresh
the book of the creation, bid them behold how, when
God made man in the paradise of Eden, and endowed
him with' will, memory, and
that it was good.' "
understanding,' Ile saw

A sturdy Welshman is on his way to town with
glass tube full of earwigs, spiders, &c., to place it in the
glue hew is the park a.l the iaavot 4, Sappy TAY."