The Charleston daily news. [volume] (Charleston, S.C.) 1865-1873, 1865-12-14


since his born saw the light, nor whether the
mercurial Charles O'Mallcy or the rolcking har-
rv Lorreouer are entitled to the honors OF primo
eenituyc. But these were followed in quick and
rapid succession by q numerous brotherhood.
ssJack Hinton" ''Tom Burke Of Ours, "hoand
Cashel, ,""The Knight Of Gwynne," kate oDono-
choe." 'sThe Martins of Gro Martin, "Maurlce
Tierney," ssThe Dodd Family Abroad" "The Wal
tons" sSr Jasper Carew," Gerald Fitzgerald
and ssBarrington," arc all we happen to remember
at present.
LEVER, though undoubtedly one OF the most
voluu.inous Of cotcmporary English novensts, can
not lay claim to The highest place in that path OF
literature. He never entered the list in satire
with THAcKERAY; with BCLwER, in the dehneatlon
of life in the upper classes Of English society;
with DICKENS in descriptive power, either of scenes
or character-yct in his own chosen path he has
had few sureriors.
Being, fortunately for himself and his readers,
native of Green Erin, he considers ireland his
own private particular cabbage garden in which
no unhallowed Sassenagh, nor other outside bar
barian, has any right to dig; and that he digs to
some purpose, the above enumeration of annual
products will abundantly demonstrate. LEVER,
moreover, in the days of his youth, we believe,
was a surgeon in the British army; hence his IA
miliarty with everything relating to the service,
and especially with the habits, humors and esprit
de corps Of that peculiar institution Of the British
army-the Mess Table. Charles OMaley, the
production of his youth, we consider by far the
best Of all his stories; there is freshness and
buoyancy about it that never flags, through
moro than three hundred pages. To be sure,
there is trifle too much Of sherry, claret and
dia6lerie in it-but then it is all in character.
Harry LorreQuer and Jack Hinton are attempts in
the same vein, but, in our opinion, far less sue
cessful.
The Knight of Gwynne and The O'Donoghoe pre-
sent fine delineaton Of Irish life and character
as it exiated III the days before tho Union. Here
we have the gay ornaments of the Irish Court, the
brilliant galaxy of the bar and forum, unrivaled
in Europe for their eloquence, wit and humor, ur-
banity and polish of manners and the thousand
and one rameless triies, which, combined, give
charm TO society and zest TO its enjoyment. This,
it is well known, is historical, and not the mere
creation Of the. artists fancy. In the numerous
memoirs Of that day We get glmpses Of society in
DIbln which has seldom, if evcr been surpassed
generous hospitality, high, chivalrous sense of
honor, brilliant wit, classical taste and scholarly
requirements. But, teJapOru 7nutGIattu., the Par
Lament House is now banh and the marble pal
aces of the absentee nobility of Ireland are now
put to ignoble uscs-giving entertainment to trav-
elling bag-men, and serving to display the gaudy
wares Of tho haberdasher.
Maurice Tierney believe, is the first of
LEVERS continental novels; interesting, more from
its incidental connection with the stirring times
and characters of he first Empire, than for any
intrinsic merit. All his subsequent novels during
the last fifteen years, have been written on the
Continent. His health, his creditors, we forget
which, rendered prolonged absence from Eng
land desirable In all these books, however, Ire
land is still the theme. \ reduced Irish family of
high descent and great pride of ancestry, forms
the foreground; some English nabob, retired
grocer. banker or stock broker with his family, |
c'agdr, in their love ofpomp and display and, like
all parvenus, every trying to hide the fact. All
that is admirable is on the side of the poor Irish
al that is ridiculous, in the rich but vulgar
Saxons This is the stock in trade Of all his con-
tinental novels. OF the nations of Europe, this
Bohemian tells us nothing. He carries you to
to Rome, Florence Vienna and
Paris; but it is Ireland still you see and hear and
the selishness Of the English you are disgusted
with.
The scene of Darlington, the book we last read,
is entirely Il Ireland, or nearly so the story
pleasant one plenty of incidents, and well worth
perusal. Peter Darlington, and his sister Dinah,
are fine specimens of their type. Polly Dill, one
Of the mos: universally accomplished young ladies
we have ever come across, even in novel. She is
an adept in everything she puts her hand to,
from breaking horse to making conserve of
roses; and the way she "quizzed" her brother
Tom in his medical examination telling him
about the genoid cavity, popliteal space, and the
fifth pair of nerves. would have entitled her to the
professorshp of anatomy in DR.. ELIZABETH BLACK
WELLS college.
LEVER has his faults, as already remarked
sameness being one of the worst still he is an ac
complished rdconte1u, and never fails to interest |
his reader. But he is long past his prime; his
latter novels certainly begin to show that the racy
freshness of youth is gone. We miss the fire, the
elan Of the Irish Dragon. A more serious charge
against our author, howevcr-strange as it may
sound to the unrefectng rcader-is want of pa |
triotism; that with all his talk about ireland, he
has no true sympathy with her people. His he
roes are invariably from the higher classes of
society; not that we object to this per Sc, but we
are too democratic not to reprehend his utterly
ignorin:: all that is good, generous and noble in
the peasantry, and only holding them up as OBJ
iccts of ridculc. A strong contrast to this is
CARLETON, who, in his inimitablc tales Of Irish
life, does ample justice to these warm, generous,
trustful natures.