BOOKS•
THE FUR COUNTRY.*
WHEN M. Jules Verne, the only French writer of genuine boys' books, in the sense in which English people understand that class of literature, collects the wonderful facts and curious speculations of science, the desperate adventures and astonishing escapes of in- trepid exploration, into a narrative of possible achievement, he appeals to his young readers with a legitimate claim to success, and with certainty of achieving it. Boys have read his Trip to the Moon with pleasure, no doubt, but their pleasure lacks the exciting ingredient of possible emulation; it is only of the nature of those fairy-tales which boys are apt to despise, it does not set them dreaming of a time when they, too, might perhaps go to the moon ; they are perfectly well aware that nobody ever did go there, and that it cannot be done. Whereas, Mr. Kingston's boy-readers, Sir- Samuel Baker's, even Captain Mayne Reid's, may dream of the- great ocean, of the lands that lie under the sun, and of sierra and savannah, of sahara and steppe, of prairie and campo, ravine and mine, of jungle and cation, cavern and ice-field, of tropical forest and rocky wastes, of crocodile-peopled rivers, creeping sluggishly through reed-glowing swamps, of terrible rapids and sparkling: cataracts in the land of the fir, the pine, and the grizzlies ; and of all these marvels as within their possible reach. They, too, may "up. and seek the Southern seas, leave cold and care behind 1" They, too, may " see the sun rise redly up to shine for half a year," or tread the sands where the " Lion king on desert-throne has all the region for his own l" nor are the wonders of the great deep- beyond their reach, too, though after tempting them with thee. most fascinating descriptions, their favourite authors conscien- tiously warn them against running away to sea. Much of the- incomparable and immortal charm of Robinson Crusoe is the cir- cumstantial realism which made us all believe when we were boys- that we could do what Robinson did ; each of us, by himself ;. in the glorious independence of solitude, tempered only by the dog, the parrot, and the goat. Of course, the ship. that was to take us off to England, home, renown, tips, and tail-coats, arrived " in the offing "—fascinating phrase— after a year or two, but that is a detail. Every one of us- has seen his crop of corn sprouting, and heard himself called " Poor Robin Crusoe" in his fancy, or if he hasn't, he deserves to belong to that decorous party of Swiss emigrants who might all have gone to the bottom and welcome, for us. Old Peter Parley, too, was a great benefactor to us in our boyhood ; and we fear he- is not sufficiently appreciated by the boys of the present. What wonderful use he made of the materials within his reach, meagre- as they were, in comparison with the stores at the disposal of the writers of to-day Much trustworthy geography was learned from those thick, broad, gilt-edged books, together with souncl. views upon whales, sharks, the maternal instincts of the Polar and other bears, and the management of boats under difficulties.
Supposing Peter Parley, the late Captain Hall of the Polaris,. Madame Ida Pfeiffer,and Mr. Parker Gilmore were to collaborate in the production of a boy's book, the result would probably be The Fur Country, or Seoasty Degrees North Latttu•Je. Translated from the French of Jules Verne. By N. D'Anvere. London: Sampson Low and Co something like the Fur Country, the latest contribution of M. Jules Verne to boy-literature. It is lees ingenious than his Trip to the Moon—which was, indeed, too ingenious—but far more in- teresting; and notwithstanding a little tell-tale artificiality which bespeaks the manufactured article too plainly in the rather stiff trans- lation, it is wonderfully well done. Leading physical features of the Arctic regions, the striking phenomena and daring deeds of exploration and endurance, are pressed into the service of a party of hardy adventurers, who dramatise them in action. There are dome comic elements in the book, notably the women. Of course, no Frenchman would dream of sending two Frenchwomen to the Arctic Sea ; equally, of course, he would not exclude ladies from any scene of interest and 'heroism. So M. Jules Verne -despatches a famous English female traveller, Mre. Pauline Barnett, and her " faithful Madge," in company with Lieutenant Jasper Hobson, Serjeant Long, Corporal Joliffe and his Canadian Wile, a certain MacNab and his wife, John Rae, and sixty soldiers or employes of the Hudson's Bay Company, to seventy degrees north latitude, in search of nnexhausted fur country. Mrs. Pauline Barnett, a " laureate " of the Royal Society, is a very amusing person, endowed with every quality desirable under the circumstances, especially with robust health and an indifference to climate which might fairly astonish an Esquimaux ; and when we learn that she and Madge have journeyed " up the Brahma- pootra as far as the mountains of Thibet, across an unknown corner of New Holland, from Swan Bay to the Gulf of Car- penteria," we are prepared for charming and instructive reminis- -cences of travel to be exchanged between her and the faithful Madge during the darkimme hours of the Arctic winter.
The perfect seriousness of the tone, and the admirable realism of the details—for instance, a complete history of the Hudson's Bay Company, and a neat abstract of the position and prospects of their trade, all made interesting—the danger, and yet the facility of the proceedings of the party, the cunning blending of romance and common-place, render the story fascinating to -older readers than the lucky boys. Lieutenant Jasper Hobson is a jewel among commanders ; —though the translator makes him address Mrs. Pauline as " Madam" in every sentence, which is rather absurd in English under the exceedingly precarious, not to say desperate circumstances,—and the discipline of the exploring party under his command is ideally perfect. The farewell festival at Fort Reliance is capitally narrated, and the programme is thus seriously stated :- "On the morning of the 16th April, Lieutenant Jaspar Hobson and ills party were ready to start. The route across the known districts between the Slave Lake and that of the Great Bear, beyond the Arctic -Circle, was already determined. Jasper Hobson was to make for Fort 'Confidence, on the northern extremity of the latter lake, and he was to revictual at Fort Enterprise, a station two hundred miles further to the north-west, on the shores of the Snare Lake. By travelling at the rate .of fifteen miles a day the Lieutenant hoped to halt there about the -beginning of May. From this point the expedition was to take the shortest route to Cape Bathurst, on the North-American coast. It was agreed that in a year Captain Craventy should send a convoy with pro- visions to Cape Bathurst, and that a detachment of the Lieutenant's men was to go to meet this convoy, to guide it to the spot where the new fort was to be erected This plan was a guarantee against any adverse circumstances, and left a means of communication with their fellow-creatures open to the Lieutenant and his voluntary companions in exile."
From the start of the exploring party with their dog-sledges for their grim journey in the snow, the interest is ever increasing, and the story is so admirably managed, that though hardly an incident of hardship, danger, dread, or suffering with which Arctic travels have made us acquainted is omitted, no absurd effect is produced, nor is the Munchausen element is admitted. The individuals -of the party come out in their several characters with well sustained effect, and Thomas Black, the English astronomer who joins the party at Fort Enterprise, and who, having come to see the solar eclipse of 1860, and nothing else, declines to be interested in any -other subject, is worthy of M. Edmond About. The story of the long winters and the suffering which drove the wild beasts into a strange companionship with man, of the terrible discovery made by Lieutenant Hobson (which our strong sympathy with the boys forbids us prematurely to disclose), and the wonderful episode of Hope Island, are admirably conceived, and skilfully supple- mented by scientific facts. The numerous illustrations are for the most part good, but it must be admitted that some of them are unintentionallycomic, as, for instance, one which represents Mrs. Pauline Barnett stepping daintily over the ice in 70° N. L., In smart boots, and a trim Paris jacket merely trimmed with fur ; and another, in which the officers, with very accurate shirt-collars and wristbands, are poking the ice-masses with tasselled canes. On the other hand, the tearing sledge-dogs are grand, and the icebergs and the bears are tremendous, especially one huge bear of exceptional sagacity, whose acquaintance we have made with pleasure quite equal to that of any boy.
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