On this page
-
Text (3)
-
Untitled Article
-
Untitled Article
-
Untitled Article
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software. The text has not been manually corrected and should not be relied on to be an accurate representation of the item.
-
-
Transcript
-
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software. The text has not been manually corrected and should not be relied on to be an accurate representation of the item.
Additionally, when viewing full transcripts, extracted text may not be in the same order as the original document.
Untitled Article
f human energy can suffice ; faithful was he that drove to his terrific duty ; faithful ras the horse to his command . One blow , one impulse given -with voice and . hand , > y the stranger , one rash from the horse , one botind as if in the act of rising to a fence , anded the docile creature ' s fore-feet upon the crown or arcMng centre of the road . The larger half of the little equipage had then cleared our over-towering shadow : hat was evident even to my own agitated sight . But it mattered little that one irreck should float off in safety , if upon the wreck that perished were embarked the luman freightage . The rear part of the carriage—was that certainly beyond the line > f absolute ruin ? What power could answer the question ? Glance of eye , thought of man , -wing of angel , which of these had speed enough to sweep between the question and the answer , and divide the one from the other ? Light does not tread upon the steps of light more indivisibly , than did our all-conquering : arrival upon the escaping efforts of the gig . That must the young man have felt too plainly . His back
was now turned to us ; not by sight could he any longer communicate with the peril ; but by the dreadful rattle of our harness , too truly had his ear been instructed that all was finished as regarded any further effort of his . Already in resignation he had rested from bis struggle ; and perhaps in his heart he was whispering , " Father , which art in heaven , do thou finish above what I on earth have attempted . " Faster than ever mill-race we ran past them in our inexorable flight . Oh , raving- of hurricanes that must have sounded in their young ears at the moment of our transit ! Even in that moment the thunder of collision spoke aloud . Either with the swinglebar , or with the haunch of our near leader , we had struck the off-wheel of the little gig , which stood rather obliquely , and not quite so far advanced , as to be accurately parallel with the near-wheeL The blow , from the fury of our passage , resounded terrifically . I rose in horror , to gaze upon the ruins we might have caused . From my elevated station I looked down , and looked back upon the scene , which in a moment told its own tale , and wrote all its records on nay heart for ever .
Here -was the map of the passion that now had finished . The horse was planted immovably- ,-with his fore-feet upon the paved crest of the central road . He of the whole party might tie supposed untouched by the passion of death . The little cany carriage—partly , perhaps ^ from the violent torsion of the wheels in its recent movement , partly from tie thundering blow we had given to it- —as if it sympathised with human horror , was all alive with tremblings and silverings . The young man trembled not , nor shivered . He sat like a rock . But his was the steadiness of agitation frozen into rest by horror , As yet he dared not to look round 5 for he knew that , if anything remained to do , by him it could no longer be done . And as yet he knew not for certain if their safety were accomplished . But the lad y—^~ But the lady- ! Oh , heavens ! will that spectacle ever depart from my
dreams , as she rose and sank upon her seat , sank and rose , threw up her arms wildly to heaven , clutched at some visionary object in tie air , fainting , praying , raving , despairing ? Figure to yourself , reader , the elements of the case ; suffer me to recal before your mind the circumstances of that unparalleled situation . From the silence and deep peace of this saintly summer night—from the pathetic blending of this sweet moonlight , dawnlight , dreamlight—from the manly tenderness of this flattering , / whispering , murmuring love—suddenly as from the woods and fields—suddenly as from the chambers of the air opening in revelation—suddenly as from the ground yawning at her feet , leaped upon her , with , the flashing of cataracts , Death the crowne ' d phantom , with all the equipage of his terrors , and the tiger roar of his voice .
The moments were numbered ; the strife was finished ; the vision was closed . In the twinkling of an eye , our flying horses had carried us to the termination of the umbrageous aisle ; at right angles we wheeled into our former direction ; the turn of the roai carried the scene out of my eyes in an instant , and swept it into my dreams for ever . ¦
Untitled Article
HOME LIFE IN RTJSSIA . Home&xf&in Russia . By a Russian Noble . . Revised by the Editor of " Recollections ¦ of Siberia . " Hurst and Blackett . 1854 , In a time like the present , when public curiosity is so attracted by anything Russian , it was to be expected , that among the thousand and one volumes teeming- from the press on Russian subjects , there would be many " got up " for the _ occasion- But we hardly anticipated meeting with such gratuitous " cooking" as we find in the work under notice . Tlie contents are simply a Russian , play stolen from an illustrious Russian author , without the slightest intimation of its origin , and turned badly into a long story . This story is palmed off on the British public under the taking title of Home Life in Russia , with a bind of warranty in the pvcfa . ce that the facts are authentic , and an intimation that the author conceals his name for fear of offending the Czar , as if the Czar would care about one of his subjects making a dull English tale out of a play ho has allowed to become popular at home .
One of the greatest poets and playwri g hts of Russia was Nicholas Gogol , who died at Moscow in 1852 . One of his best pieces is entitled Dead Souls . This was translated into German in 1846 , formed the basis of an article in . the Eevue des Deux JSIondes at the close of 1851 , and , transformed into a short tale , appeared about the same time in Chambers' Journal ; and yet it is this same Dead Souls , elongated and spoiled in the elongation , which is now presented to the public xn the volumes under notice . This , and no
more , ^ The story in itaelf is good , and more than good as told by Gogol . It is simply this ;—Russian nobles own serfs , which they buy and sell as we buy and sell calicoes . _ The serfs , by an exquisite irony , are called souls . The Russian noble , being an extravagant animal , is frequently " hard up "; and to save the continued sale and resale of sorfs , there is , or was , in St . Petersburg a fund set apart to advance money on the security of serf-souls One TchichikoiF , a Muscovite swindler , takes advantage of a great mortality among' the serfs , shortly after the census has been taken , to get convoyed to him us living all such souls as have died since tho census , and on , the strength of this title does the loan fund to a heavy extent . It ia easy to perceive how this p lot oan be made amusing in a brief compass by a man of genius ; it is equally easy to understand how it is wearisome and dull , when beaten out iato two volumes by a man of no genius . The names , tho main facts of
the Dead Soitls , are adhered to in these volumes ; additions and alterations thero avre j and when the reader meets with a dull passage , or one inconsequential incident , lot him bo sure thoso arc they . But -wo arc certain that there is little or nothing in this work that a moderately sharp English hack could not have manufactured from the articlo alluded to in tho Mevue des deux JMCondes . If from a laudable desire to spread a contempt of Kuaaian society among strangers , or from any other reason , our Russian noble folt himself compelled to write a book , why not have translated this , and that other bettor
piece of Gogol ' s , The Inspector-General , and , publishing them with an account of their author , thereby have done honour to the memory of one of the few illustrious poets of Russia , and , at the same time , have given us the veridical outcome of a man of genius ? Perhaps the Russian noble ' s sojourn in England may be sufficiently prolonged to render this hint available ; in any case , let him not repeat the present experiment . Also , in conclusion , might we suggest to our leading publishers to keep « reader of foreign literature—at least of the lievue ^ des deux Mondes ; it might save them some visits from literary nobles , Russian and others .
Untitled Article
A BATCH OF BOOKS . John Howard ; a Memoir . By Hepworth Dixon ; a New Edition . Jackson and Walfori , The Poetical Works of William , Shenstone , -with Xife , Critical Dissertation , &c . By tie Kev . George Gilfillan . Nichols . Rural and Historical Gleanings from Eastern Europe . By Miss A . M . Birkbeck . Darton and Co . Tales of the Desert and the Bush . From the German of Friedrich Gerstacker . Constable and Co . The Inner Life of the Jlovse of Commons . By J " . NT . Spellen . * Triibner and Co . Sand and Shells . Nautical Sketches . By James Hannay . Routledge and Co . Our Holiday .- A Week in Paris . By Percy B . St . John . Tinsley and Co . Alone . Sampson , Low , and Co
irLAcruG the best book in our present list at the head of it—and a long way at the headof it , too—we must beg pardon of the authors of professedly new works , if we give our first attention and best greeting to a reprint . Mr . Hepworth Dixon ' s able and honest memoir of JohiptHowakd is now published , we are rejoiced to say , in a cheap form . A book which has been so genuinely and deservedly successful as this biography , —a book which teaches great truths and records noble acts in language worthy of its subject—has reached a position which places it above the necessity ot claiming more from us than the announcement of its publication , at a price which places it within everybody ' s reach . In these times , when some of the most perversely and utterly bad writing which has probably ever issued from the Knglish press , is addressing itself to the much misused majority ot the "light-purses , " it is a welcome sight indeed to see a really good , useful , and earnest book entered on the list of the cheap publications .
Another reprint which requires honourable mention is the poetry of Shenstone . Essentially one of" the minor minstrels , Shenstone has a homely simplicity and gentle grace as a poet , which—though his verses are too often disfigured by classical trivialities and artificial allusions—still entitle him to be read . The volume now under notice is of the good , old , liand ^ some , " Library" sort , and is very beautifully and clearly printed . Its only drawback is a preliminary Essay on the Life and Poetry of Shenstone , by the Rev . G-eorge Gilfillan , which , as a specimen of bold and brazen slip-slop , is quite a literary curiosity— of a certain kind . The Rev . G . G . bursts into a complete classification of English rjoets at page 1 . Pope typifies the first class ; Shakspeare the second (!) ; Milton the third ; Butler the fourth ; nobody in particular the fifth ; and Shenstone the sbeth . Shakspeare , our readers will be astonished to hear , was one of " the fluctuating , uncertain ,
untutored , but divinely-inspired children , of genius . " Milton , it is delightful to find , gets from the Rev . George , what used to be termed in the school-phraseology of our day , " a leg up . " We are almost ashamed to copy it down , but Mr . Gilfillan . actually says that Milton belongs to the 14 class of < jifted and cultured minds , whose beauties and blemishes are alike colossal ; (!) the former , however , outnumbering the latter . " ( 1 !) Think of Milton , living in the admiration of all posterity , to be written about , at last , as a man of " gifted and cultured mind , " and as really having , in a poetical point of view , more " beauties" than " blemishes ! " The " trump ofHTame " is a penny trumpet , indeed , when it gets into the hands of the Rev . G . G . ! Miss Kirkbeck ' s volume about Hungary is a nicely-written ^ and very interesting book . Some of the pictures of Hungarian life are touched
with a delicacy and skill which would do no discredit to far more practised pens . We can with great sincerity recommend this little work , as always pleasant , and often profitable to read . It pleased us especially by the freshness and genuineness of its tone and manner . We cannot say as much of Herr Gerstaclcer ' s Stories of Life in the Wilds . The translation is clumsily and carelessly done ; and tho tales , though founded generally on excellent and striking subjects , are told in a dull , roundabout manner . The Germans have a wonderful appreciation of the sort of material which is fittest for the making of a good story , and yet , strangely enough , they aro the most awkward people in Europe at turning thoir material to the best narrative account . The bare idea of " construction" ( in tho French sense of the word ) never seems to enter their heads .
Of the u cheap publications" tho best on our list is also the least expensive , and the most unpretending . Mr . J . N . Spellen ' s Inner Life ^ of the House o / 'Commons ( the work we refer to ) , is a lively , and most graphic account of all those proceedings in our " representative chamber , " which " strangers " are so universally anxious to see , and which , when they arc allowed to contemplate , they arc so universally incapable of understanding . Mr . Spcllen will bo found quite invaluable as a guide to all bewildered Britons , in and out of the gallery , who want to understand what Parliament really means , and who arc anxious to know what tho famous Parliament men really look like . Our other three cheap books aro fictions . Mr . Hunnay ' Sand and Shells startles us on tho cover , by a picture of a
forsaken mariner , bobbing on a scarlet buoy , in a smalt-coloured sea- —and warns us on the title-page to mind -what we arc about , in a critical point of view , by the magical words , Tenth Thousand . What can we do , with nothing b \ it printing ink on the premises , to make a book known , which has already made itself known to ten thousand purchasers by means of a scarlet buoy and a smalt-coloured sea ? llovr can wo help Mr . Percy St . John with a discerning public , after he has already helped himself , by means of a gang of hobgoblins on tho cover of Our Holiday ?"—to say nothing ot a highly-attractive scroll in a corner , containing on it the honoured names of tho Classics of Comic Literature . What right have a faw meek and timid sentences of ours to ask attention for a wonderful work which , beneath
Untitled Article
1 H 24 THE LEADER . [ Saturday ,
-
-
Citation
-
Leader (1850-1860), Nov. 25, 1854, page 1124, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse2.kdl.kcl.ac.uk/periodicals/l/issues/vm2-ncseproduct2066/page/20/
-