The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1846-11-10 00:00:00

THE LIVERPOOL STANDARD.

proceeded to the shore, where they built a ship which
carried them to another country. Could this tradition
have suggested to Shakespere the casket scene, in the
" Merchant of Venice" ? _

Kings and chiefs, after death, are believed to enjoy an
eternity of the luxuries which they possessed on earth ;
whilst the paradise of the poor is cessation from labour.
Every family has its " Penates " and " Lares" in chosen
fetishes, to which they offer yarns, &c. They are of all
imaginable deformity, and it would appear that adoration
increases in proportion to the hideousness of the object.
When the Ashantees drink, they pour a little on the
floor as an offering ; and when they rise from their seats,
they are turned upon the sides to prevent the Devil slip-
ping into the vacated place. Their evil spirit is white, as
that of the Europeans is considered to be black, and no
doubt proceeding from the same feelings.
The minor considerations of the African's belief is truly
ridiculous, yet not one jot more so than many which ob-
tain in every other country in the world, from which the
most enlightened cannot be exempted. England has its
gliosts, witches, fortune-tellers, black cats; Scotland is
equally rationally populated with the addition of war-
locks, brownies, second-sights, &c.; whilst the Emerald
Isle " holds a glass that shews us many more." An
esteemed friend assures me, that, to his own knowledge.
persons have been buried in Ireland with money placed
in their hands to pay the toll to St. Peter, for admission
through the gates of heaven !

" 0 that some Power the gift wad gie us
To see oursels as others see us I "
The following description of idolatrous worship is from
the pen of the Rev. Thos. Raston, Wesleyan missionary,
and pastor of the village of York, Sierra Leone, whose
private worth can only be equalled by his professional
utility :
" God has done much for these people • still the dark,
dark places of the earth are here darker than I could ever
have imagined, and the Prince of Darkness' reigns, and
possesses an influence far more tantalising and terrific
than can be conceived. There is wickedness in high
places—wickedness where we had a right to expect reli-
gion.
" This morning (May 31, 1843) I set out, accompanied
by four of our brethren, to visit the ' god house' of an
Aku-man, who resided some distance from the Mission-
house. When we arrived he was working in his farm,
and was sent for. In the mean time, his wife could not
be bribed to allow us, on any account, to see the objects
of their worship.

" When the man came, and saw us, with many others
who came to look on, he appeared very ferocious, and sat
in the gateway to prevent ingress. After assuring him of
our pacific intention, we were permitted to gaze on a sight
as filthy as it was idolatrous.
" We had much conversation with the man, in which
he seemed much interested ; but when I proposed to buy
his god, he became as infuriated as a madman, and a scene
ensued which baffles my powers of description.
" He snatched up an instrument of worship, of about
two feet in length, consisting of longiform bells, five at
each end, making a harsh noise. These he agitated vio-
lently, accompanied with the most hideous yells, and
painful contortions of the body.
" His honour for his god seemed to be awaked, and he
became frantic with real. He darted from the place like
an arrow, running up the street as though mad with rage,
and back again in the same desperate manner, striking
several persons who ran with him into the god-house,
when they took up the musical instrument, and the play
of horror began ; and never did human eyes behold a
more dreadful display of Satan's power.
" The attitudes of the women were detestable, and their
yellings pierced the air, and the grating din of the instru-
ments, rendered the affair at once sickening and appal-
ling. The dirty idols inside were the God and Goddess
of Thunder, called in Aku, " Rabba-rabba-cute" and
Ah-Kara.' ' Ah-hara,' the goddess, is in the zig-zag
character of lightning; and every day these are presented
to be fed with palm oil and fee-fee. To these objects the
performer frequently turned himself ; and though waiting
for a reply, no reply came; when more loudly did he
clang his bells, and more ardently dance, forcing those
around him to join, seeming to fortify himself in very
savage vengeance.
" A. fowl was put into his hands ; a head he took in
one hand, and the legs in the other, and tore the head
from the body, immediately thrusting the neck into his
mouth, sucked out the blood, and wrung the neck off
with his teeth, while the blood streamed down to the
ground, My soul so sickened at this, that it was with
difficulty I restrained myself.
" The man continued his incantations, and when we
saw that it was availless to interfere, we all knelt down
within a few yards of the worshippers, and offered fervent
prayers in their behalf, and left testifying, and warning
them to flee from the wrath to come.' . _

PA SAMBA (a Moorie man) is another illustration of
the wild nonsense which obtains amongst those from
whom, from long and continued association with Euro-
peans, better might be expected.
I permitted Pa Samba, a poor Moorie, to occupy a
cellar in my house at Freetown, leaving his cuisine and
upholstery arrangements to his own ways, means, and
taste. He instantly commenced constructing his bed by
mixing and flattening a couch of mud, with pillow of the
same material (which, from the frequency of its applica-
tion for such purposes, was called by a merry Hibernian
friend "African feathers.") His grate was three stones,
and a white hen and chickens, objects of devoted solici-
tude, cackled and chirped about. Upon the wall hung a
snake's skin (condah), and by its side a fox tail. He
was a Foulah, and received a pension for services, real or
imaginary, in Gambia, in times long past ; yet poor
Samba could not make ends meet, and was often, like his
betters, until quarter-day came round, upon the round
himself, looking fur tiek—mot that ha might stuff his
feathers into it, but that he might stuff himself with it •;
but when her Majesty's head was placed in his hand,
being conveniently blessed with a "non rni recordo"
memory, he did not make as honourable use of that sove-
reign remedy as her Majesty anticipated, but the apology
for his tenacity was so right royal, and right loyal, that his
two or three shilling creditors seldom introduced him to
the sheriff—" Ha, massa, me lub her Majesty too much
to part with her piciur. Garramighty bless her I" How.
ever, creditors, like fathers, sometimes " have flinty
hearts," and Samba found himself summoned to the petit
debt court ; but he had a soul above terror at debts or
courts, duns or devils, for he had a charm—his condah
and fox's brush, with which he could sweep the debt out
of the summoner's memory. This belief was strengthened
by his having been allowed to escape so long, which he
attributed to the magical charming of his skin and tail,
but having been at length cast in debt and costs, he tore
his tail and destroyed his skin, in the greatest rage,
swearing that the one was grown too old and the other
too dry, and that he must find others more juvenile and
moist, when he might again defy the enemy. About the
same time, as " misfortunes come in battalions," Pa lost
his white hen, and his suspicion having fallen upon a
neighbouring woman of colour, he ran into the street in
the midst of a dreadful tornado, uttering the most awful

imprecations, and praying that the wind and lightning
might bury her in he: house. Whilst in the culminating
point of bis vengeance, the fowl walked leisurely home,
but died the next day, as Samba averred, from having got
a cough in the storm, owing to the loss of his skin and
tail. Fortunately for the woman, the coroner did not
hold an inquest, which saved her from a foul verdict.
This character pretended to be a rigid Mahomedan,
kept fasts, prayed, and knocked his head against the
ground, upon all occasions. night and day, and kept, as
far as I could discern, the Rhamadan Month, of fasting
from sunrise unto his going down; and it was amusing to
see him eagerly watch its setting in the horizon, when
immediately upon the last glimpse, he would pounce
upon his meal, like a lion on its prey, stroke his beard,
and utter a short sentence from the Alcoran.
Sometimes I amused myself with catechising him on
his religion, but not being a very deep theologian myself,
I could not convince him of his errors to such an extent
as I desired. He knew some of the Mosaic Law, and
spoke of Adam, whom be called Bemma. Nothing could
shake his belief in sadakah, (sacrifice ;) and if he is now
dead, I am sure that he expired like a true Mahomedan,
exclaiming" Alla, Alla, Bismillah"—" There is but one
God, and Mabomet is his Prophet !"—and that he has
met his brother Moorie man in the other world with the
usual salutation, " Saalam Aleik ?" " Aleik Saalam.'
" How do ?" " Very well, tank'ee." At length his
nocturnal vociferations, singing, and prayers, with noisy
quotations from the Koran, together with the loss of a
pair of Wellington boots, which I certainly dii not steal
from myself, suggested the propriety of giving this reli-
gionist a hint that he might look out for more comfort-
able lodgings, which authority he seemed inclined to dis-
pute ' but having measured his man, and finding me six
feet three, he declined the contest, and departed with a
few extemporaneous denunciations and borrowed anathe-
mas from his favourite Koran ; and if still alive, may at
this moment be consulting his new tail and skin, or offer.
ing up sadakabs for revenge.
In the midst of his religious fervour, however, Pa
Samba forgot to return the Wellingtons.

BLACKWOOD ON MR. DICKENS' DOMBEY

AND SON.

You said that you should like to know my opinion of '
'Tis
of
original e x ac t l y
genius,what
sefixgpuercet
de db ;y
many
oann tya imn ions gt
Mr. Dickens' new story, and I read it with interest, and
clear some
evidence care.
serious, and now plainly incurable, blemishes. The first
thing striking me, on perusing this new performance, is,
that its author writes, as it were, from amidst a thick
theatrical mist. Cursed be the hour—should say a sin-
cere admirer of Mr. Dickens' genius—that he ever set
foot within a theatre, or became intimate
its with theatrical
people. You fancy that every scene, incident, and cha-
racter, is conceived with a view to telling—from the
stage. This suggestion seems to me to afford a key to
most of the prominent faults and deficiencies of Mr.
Dickens as an imaginative writer ; the lamentable absence
of that simplicity and sobriety which invest the writings,
for instance, of Goldsmith with immortal freshness and
With what truthful tenderness does such a writer depict
nature !—how different is his treatment from the spas-
modic, straining, extravagant, vulgarizing efforts of the
play-wright ! The one is delicate and exquisite limning;
the other, gross daubing :—the one faith fully represents;
the other monstrously caricatures. This is the case with
Mr. Dickens ; and it is intolerably provoking that it
should be so ; for he has the penetrating eye and accurate
pencil, which—properly disciplined and trained—
might
have produced pictures worthy to stand beside. those of
the greatest masters. As it is, you might
.rmagine his
sketches to be the result of the combined simultaneous
efforts of two artists—one the delicate limner, the other
the vulgar dauber and scene-painter above spoken of.
He has invention and skill enough to produce an inte-
resting character ; and place him in a situation favourable
for developing his eccentricities, his failings, his excellen-
cies—in a word, his peculiarities. Well ; he prepares his
reader's mind—sets before you an interesting, a moving,
a mirth-stirring occasion, when—bah I—all is ruined ;
the spasmodic straining after effect becomes instantly and
painfully visible ; and the personage before you is made
to talk-to the level of a theatrical audience, especially pit

and gallery—and in unison with "ginger-beer, apples,
oranges, and soda-water" associations and recollections.
Let me give two striking instances, occurring at the
very opening of "Dombey and Son." The first is the
colloquy at pp. 3, 4 ; the other at p. 9. The former pre-
sents you Dr. Parker Peps, a fashionable accoucheur, and
the humble admiring family medical man—the occasion
being a momentary absence of both from the chamber of
a lady dying in child-bed, Mrs. Dombey ; and can any
one of correct taste and feeling bear in mind that occa-
sion, and fail of being revolted by the drivel put into the
mouth of the consulting accoucheur ?—who, when telling
Mr. Dombey of the mortal peril in which his wife over-
head is lying—apologises to him for speaking of her as
"Her Grcce the Dot hen!" "Lady Cankaby," "The
Countess of Dombey:" his obsequious companion ac-
counting for such lapses on the score of his "NA est End
practice." Is this nature ? Is it actual life ? Any thing
approaching to either ? If not, what is it meant for ?
Why, to tickle a Christmas audience at one of the minor
playhouses ! The other (these are only two out of many)
is the character of Mr. Chick, an old fool, who has a habit
of whistling and humming droll tunes on the most solemn
occasions, interrupting and interlarding conversation with
"Richt tol loor-ral." "A cobbler !here nias," "Bumph-
iddity bow, wow, wow;" is it not certain thmt Mr.
D.ckens here had his eye on Tilbury or Bedford enacting
the part ? And for no other purpose whatever is this
precious character introduced than to hit off th s very pe-
culiarity ! From the same theatrical habit of mind, it
happens that Mr. Dickens cannot carry on his stories in
an even, straightforward course, but presents us with a
series of "scenes!"—utterly marring the effect and an-
nihilating the truthfulness and reality of the whole ; e. g.
the jarring interruption of this story at a touching and
interesting moment—at the moment of the two doctors
and Mr. Dombey's return to poor Mrs. Dombey's death-
bed, when the reader feels that they are almost instantly
to witness her death, by the introduction of two tiresome
twaddlere, reproductions of old. stock characters of the
author, Mr. Chick and Miss Tux, whose descriptions and
utterly irrelevant conversation detain us for nearly three
pages. At length these motley "stagers"—if I may be
allowed the word—are grouped round the poor lady's
death-bed ; and let me here say, that in my opinion the
character and situation of poor Mrs. Dombey are both ex-
quisitely conceived, and appeal to the deepest sympathies
of the heart ; but, alas ! the perverse, provoking, incor-
rigible writer will not let us enjoy "the luxury of grief ;"
but while we are bending over her death-bed, our atten-
tion is called off to a remarkably interesting and appro-
, priate circumstance—two watches of two of the doctors
"seem in the silence to be running a race !" * *
"they seem to be racing faster ! !" * " The
race, in the ensuing pause, was fierce and furious. The
watches seemed to jostle, and to trip each other up ! ! !"
and a moment or two afterwards the lady expires, under
very moving circumstances, touched with perfect delicacy
and truthfulness. Would the intrusion of a sow into a
lovely flower-garden be more shocking or disgusting to
the beholder ?. Again, in the first page, we are presented
to Mr. Dombey, gazing with unutterable feelings at his
newly-born son, "forty-eight minutes of age ;" and Mr.
Dickens tastefully suggests the corm,arison of the little
creature, which is "somewhat crushed and spotty in his
general effect! !" whose mother is at that moment in
dying agonies is that very room, to "a muffin, which it
was essential to toast brown while it was very new ! !"
And a few lines forward, the posture of the innocent un-
conscious little being suggests the brutal idea of a prize-
fighter—his "little fists, cur led up and clenched, seemed,
in his feeble way, to be SQUARING AT EXISTENCE for
having come upon him so unexpectedly !I !" Was ever
any thing more monstrous ? To find a gentleman of Mr.
Dickens' great genius, and experience in literary compo-
sition, sinning in this way is provoking beyond all mea-
sure. The above abominations to be perpetrated by him
who at page seventeen can present us with so exquisite a
touch as the following :—He is describing the blank ap-
pearance of the dismantled house, immediately after the
funeral of the poor, neglected, and heart-broken lady.
" The dead and buried lady was awful, in a picture frame
of ghastly bandages. Every gust of wind that rose,
brought eddying round the corner, from the neighbouring
mews, some fragments of the straw that had been strewn
before the house when she was ill ; mildewed remains of
which were still cleaving to the neighbourhood. and these
being always drawn by some invisible attraction to the
threshold of the dirty house to let opposite, addressed a
dismal eloquence to Mr. Dombey's window." The
thirty-two pages cf this first number contain very many
provocatives to unfavourable criticism. They bristle all
over with mannerisms—abound with grotesque, unseemly,
extravagant comparisons and personation, ( one of Mr.
Dickens' besetting sins)—many of the scenes contain
truth and humour, smothered and lost by prolixity, inci-
dent and character diluted by a tedious and excessive mi-
nuteness of description ; and it is to be feared that several
of the characters will bear a painfully strong resemblance
to some of their predecessors in Mr. Dickens' other sto-
ries. Mr. Dickens may feel angry at my plainness ; and,
in return, I must express my fears that he is not aware of
the extent of injury which has been inflicted upon him by
clique-homage—the flattery of fluent, incompetent ad-
mirers—the misconstrued silence of critics of experienced
taste and refinement. Does Mr. Dickens really consider
the light in which his writings, containing such faults as
those above adverted to, must be viewed by the upper and
thinking classes of society—persons of cultivated taste,
of refinement, of piercing critical capacity, who disdain to
lenter the little, babbling, vulgar, narrow-minded circles
miscalled " literary ?"