TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS
Is a singular volume. It has crept forth unheralded, and, so far as we remember, unannounced. It is published in a shape unat- tractive to the pure novel-reader ; and though containing to all intents and purposes novels, the subjects, the tone, and the cha- racters are not only in the main too serious for the supporters cf the circulating library, but even for many of those whom Mr. RICHARDSON would style the " liberal " perusers of sketches of Saciety and descriptions of manners. The writer, too, seems some- what unpractised, or at least unskilled in author-craft. In his lighter passages, there is rather too much attempt at wit, and a forced endeavour after sustained smartness,—most palpable, how- ever, in the beginning of his book : an incident is now and then more convenient to the author than probable in itself: and his three most prominent male characters are only generalized repre- sentatives of peculiar classes, and therefore want both the truth and strength of individuality. Stating these mutters plainly, we may say as plainly, that there is 44 in the author—freskness in his manner, and interest in his book, without excitement. Ills narrative is rapid ; his story consistent wiam itself; his sts le al- most picturesque • his remarks are judicious and slifea d, inter- mingled with a subdued vein of satire, albeit upon Liberalism and Dissenters.
The tales are two. The scents for the most part are laid in the highest circle of middle life, from which class the principal cha- racters are taken. The object of both stories is the same—to enforce the rigid performance of our duty, without regard to any temporary suffering it may inflict upon us; and to show the peace and mental comfort that a humble and rational faith will always bestow,—meaning by rational, the faith of the Church of Eng- land and Ireland, without whose pale the author seems to imagine that all religion is hypocrisy or fanaticism.
We shall not describe the stories, or even attempt to convey an idea of them by extracts ; but content ourselves with picking out a few passages here and there from the memorandums we made in our perusal.
TOWN AND COUNTRY DIRT.
There arc dirty and miserable abodes in the country, into which the benevo- lent frequently cuter on their errands of mercy ; but the dirt of a great old dirty town is far different from the dirt of a cottage. A cottage in the country has heaven above it, and air around it, and the bright sky IS visible through its broken windows; but in the little narrow ;allies in the long black streets of the lower part of a elosely-built town, there are dwelling's past description for their utter destitution and deplorableness. They are name dismal than dungeons, for dungeons have not the mockery of furniture, nor essentially the aspect of dila- pidation and destitution ; but the miserable abodes of the poorest of the poor have not even the comfort of it dungeon, which at least promises its tenant se- curity, and affords a shelter from the weather. III-built houses, occupied be- fore they are finished, and never finished after they are occupied,—where room is piled above room, and wall almost meet) wall, so that daylight can scarcely creep down between the space to let in a little indirect ray, ate filled from cellar to garret with tenants whose wretchedness may vary in aspect, but is the saute in substance ; and in each of these apartments may be seen fragments of chairs, tables, beds, grates, and crockery, all dirty and miserable. Into one of these rooms, up three pair of stairs, which were so black and decayed and broken that they looked as if they would scarcely last till she came down again, was Jane Latimer introduced. It was mid day, but the room was so dark that for a moment she was unable to discern whether it were inhabited or not. As soon, however, as the eye had reconciled itself to the gloom of the place, she observed two females sitting by the side of a ditty fireplace, each apparently wrapped in her own thoughts, from which absorption they were presently roused by Jane Latimer asking, " Is this the apartment of Mrs. Turner ? "
SICK READERS.
She was sitting in an easy chair by the tire-side, and a book was open before her. There is amusement to some sick people in the sight of a book, even though they be too feeble to read it. They loak at it, and read a few lines; Ind these few lines, irerhaps, recall a dream of bygone days ; and the fancy roves and wanders and loses itself for a while in a pleasant delirium ; and then they wake from their dream, and are fatigued, and they close the book, and seek for a sleep that shall have no dreams, and the spirit stagnates ; then, when ennui creeps on them again, they open the book and decant it over again. So had Mrs. Ilendeison bcen amusing herself. Iler life had become a flickering kind of light, weak and feeble, but not gloomy ; there was certainly a look (if sorrow in her countenance, but there was resignation too—not the Stoic resignation, which destroys, but the Christian, which sanctities sorrow and makes it exceedingly beautiful.
DIEFERENCE BETWEEN PHYSICIANS AND LAWYERS.
Mr. Camp was a new acquisition in the way of acquaintance to the sick mother and the broken-hearted daughter ; but he was not quite so agreeable in his mariners as Dr. Drinkwater. There is indeed a strong characteristic and pro- fessional difference between a physician and a lawyer—especially those of much practice : not that these gentlemen had much practice, but they had an ambition of practice; and they perhaps each of them might be in the habit of exercising a kind of mental rehearsal,—the physician how he should deport himself in a sick chamber, the lawyer how he should manage a knave or a fool of a client. The physician has intercourse with affliction, with pain, with death : his voice is naturally attuned to mildness and gentleness ; his step is light and quiet ; his face is susceptible of a look of sympathy ; he has to do with humanity in its feebleness, to listen to the complaints of the suffering, to hear with the means of the distressed ; it is part of his business to be and to look amiable—who cart speak unkindly to the dying ? A brute of a doctor must be a brute indeed. But a lawyer deals with rogues, parchments, and subtleties; he aids and abets men in their deepest and deadliest struggles ; he comes in contact with humanity when its covetousness is rampant, when its revenge is craving, when its passions and its thoughts converse with living interests, and when antipathy is most strongly developed. Them efore he has a keen eye, a ready skill, a bold and bluster- ing confidence of manner ; he is professionally hard-hearted, however constitu- tionally kind he may be. There was all this professional difference between Dr. Drinkwater and Mr. Camp. Both of them were conceited, but the lawyer ma- nifested his conceit more impertinently than the other ; but still Mr. Camp was wha't is commonly called a very clever man ; and so, though he might not be esteemed for his urbanity, he was admired for his abilities.
We have spoken of Tales and Triumphs as we always speak— from the impression which a perusal makes upon our mind. The general reader may perhaps regard it with different feelings. Should this discrepancy exist, it may be resolved by the following extract. What a strong stimulant is to the over-excited metro- politan, a freshness, an ownness of manner, is to the jaded critic.
A pleasant and striking instance of the miscalculation of impression is recorded in the history of Prince Lee Boo; who being brought from an uncivilized island of Asia into this country, was delighted and enraptured with all that he saw of the contrivances, accommodations, and facilities of civilized life. Seeing how full of ad • .ation he was at all the ordinary and familiar contrivances for human convenience, his importers and friends took it for granted that lie would be still more rapt in astonishment at the sight of that which to themselves was extraordivaty and new ; so they took him to see Lunardi's ascent in a balloon, which to the people of this country seas then a novelty. They were, however, disappoint.11 in their expectations ; for the young foreigner merely remarked that he thought it very foolish fur a titan to fly in theair like a bird, when there were so many convenient and agreeable conveyances for him on land. Thus it is with the luxurious and highly-stimulated inhabitants of the Me- tropolis ; they may and nu-t have a relish for many stimulants, which the quieter and less excited care little about. Ile that eats fat bacon, and swings upon a gate, would not relish caviare : this is no proof of any natural want of taste, but merely shows that his palate has not been trained up to that point. It might be worth while fill- those who pride themselves on their refined taste, and who look contemptuously down on others on account of their want of taste, to enter more particularly into this line of inquiry, in order to asceitain whether their own superiority of taste be any timing more than the result of the repeated application of ati umlauts.
It has been stated that Mr. RICHARDSON is no friend to Liberals in polities or to Noncanformists in religion. To the honest although one-sided personification of the qualities of particular classes, no moral objection need he made ; perhaps not even to the intro- duction of a public character, whilst he is only exhibited' in his public capacity. But Mr. RICHARDSON has gone further than this; and we put it to Win, whether, after marking Mr. Willoughby so strongly as to identify him with Mr. IRVING, it is fair to represent him as an actor in private life, not very creditably, and there can be little doubt untruly.
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