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    September 6,1856.] THE LEADER. 855

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    / 5l>'i+ *+rt+ ? iLli^fuJtlt^*- ?

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    9 . . Critics are not the legislators, b...

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    Some people's constancy is never so much...

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  • 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.

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    September 6,1856.] The Leader. 855

    September 6 , 1856 . ] THE LEADER . 855

    / 5l≫'I+ *+Rt+ ? Illi^Fujtlt^*- ?

    ? WkxtAmt .

    9 . . Critics Are Not The Legislators, B...

    9 . . Critics are not the legislators , but the judges and police of literature . They do not roake laws—they interpret and try to enforce them . —JSdinbtirgh Review .

    Some People's Constancy Is Never So Much...

    Some people ' s constancy is never so much , tried as when the object of their attachfnerit is made ridiculous : they have heroism , enough to share the dignity of persecution , but aot enough to share the reputation of absurdity . 3 fet it is a trial that awaits all our enthusiasms in this -world . We must "be prepared to see our noblest ideas degraded into Cant , our most serious

    studies vulgarized into a Mania . And it is but a paltry enthusiasm that will not bear such a test—that is driven into denying that the -world is getting better because fools take to prating of ' progress , ' or that begins to be disgusted with an aquarium , because Vulgarity and Ignorance have a very costly one in their "back drawnng-room- Besides ., some good -will come even out of the Cant and the Mania , for as jou can ' t handle pitch -without being defiled ) so you : can't handle rose-leaves -without carrying about some of" the healtliy scent . Meanwhile we can afford to smile with the very pleasant writer on ' Science by tiie Seaside , ' in Fruser , at the comic symptoms exhibited by many of the ' bitten' subjects . Here is his amusing description of a young lady ' s transition from potichomanie to nolypomanie :-

    —She—for we shall be ungallant enough to present a feminine example of the disease which is now in our mind ' s eye— -she leing located at a fashionable watering-place ( name of no consequence , for are they mot legion , and as like each other as Caesar and Pcmpey ?) happens to be shipwrecked one stormy afternoon on the coasts of a marine curiosity ^ shop . She -wanders idly in its becornered recesses , now disinterring an . illused Omer or Nautilus , tortured with files and acids into prismatic colours and unwonted sinuations ; now wondering whether the rain will cease ; now admiring a basket of sea-weeds , besmirched -with , varnish and adorned with a motto , Which poetically requests the reader not to call them ' weeds , ' because they are neither more nor less than ' flowers of the sea , ' a title which we fancy the anemones and polypes would be very well inclined to dispute with . them . " And pray , Mrs . So-and-so , what have you . got in that rather dirty-looking pjadding-basin ?" " Them's zuphites , ma ' arn , if you please , " responds the sibyl , from the depths of her grotto . . ¦ ¦ . ¦ ¦*»¦ ¦ " Zu—what ? " ' :

    " Phites , ma ' am . Sea neinones , ma ' amj what Mr . Gosse writes "books about . Comes from the beach , ma ' am . Tuppence each—leastways the common ones ; crassycornys , fourpeuce ; dianthys , one shilling and sixpence . " " And what ' s the use of them , Mrs . So-and-so ?" " Lor , ma ' ara , t can't tell ye—I never could find no use in them myself , but -the quality thinks them butifull—Iss , fy ! keeps ' em in their draring-rooms , and never minds their turning their little insides out , nor smelling nasty-like , nor nothing !" The result of which dialogue is that our lady friend carries home a jar of marine pickles , invests in a Gosse and-a Kingsley , and before morning is on the high-road to a state of confirmed ' thalassian' ( v . Gosse ) monomania .

    So far of the cause of tbe disease , now for the symptoms . ISText day , Phillis , the sheeny-ringleted lady's-maid , is discovered in hysterics—sbc nasty pudding-basins , two confectioner ' s jars , and a foot-tu"b , on the drawing-room table , Ler mistress ' s bonnet on the floor , garnished with a layer of damp sea-weed , and her mistress's dress all over irreparable puddles of salt-water . Her mistress is raving . Her ^ vocabulary is a mixture of young lady expletives , and a quasi-scientific jargon , which becomes more and more complicated as she penetrates thedepths of zoological nomenclature . _ " Oh , Mr . Penaninke , I am so charmed to see you this morning , " was her salutation , as we unwarily did ourselves the honour of a mid-day call ; " this , I think , is quite in your way . I know you delight in the exquisite forms of the natural world " ( pointing to the pie-dishes ) . " Yes , " we observed mildly , " we were very fond of anything which was natural . " " Now , do look at this lovely specimen of Actinia troglodytes , so named , as dear Mr . Gosse tells us , from its inhabiting the caves of the African Shepherds , —how very curious , isn't it ?"

    We endeavoured to insinuate that the penultimate syllable of the unhappy animal ' s specific name was not usually lengthened by the professors of the Greek language ; and . further , that the creature being found on the English coast , couldn ' t live in an African cave ; but the torrent had burst its banks , and wo were overwhelmed . " And then , my dear Mr . Penauinke , it ' s so much better , of course , as Mr . Kingsley says , to bo improving one ' s mind ( ' spoilt her best bonnet , I declare—well , I never !'moaned Phillis , who was rescuing the debris of her mistress ' s outward woman an a retired corner of the room ) , by studying the worlcs of nature , than to ruin one ' s constitution , and throw away one ' s time in crocheting pursea and embroidering braces tor your ungrateful sox" C we bowed deprecatorily ) ; " and besides it's so delightful , as XUr . Gosse says , to bo always perceiving the wonderful adaptation of ends to means , and the beautilul lessons of resignation and decorum—no , I don ' t mean that quitetut you know what I mean—it ' s just like , I mean , going to hear that charming Mr . lhumpitwell , when ho gives us such beautiful sermons , in the season of the Rotunda Chapel—1 never know beforo what instruction and amusement these lovely little jolypuscs wore able to give us !' . '

    Hero the lady paused , apparently for lack of breath , and wo seized the opportunity and our hat , and escaped as decorously as our inward convulsions would allow ; nor did we recover our philosophic enhn till wo had enscoiiBed ourselves for the whole alternoon m a favourite nook on the rocky shore , and seen the great sun sink , a ball « f rushing fire , through vast bells of purple and golden cloud into the fur-off Atlantic TV-ftstc . The finale of our lady-friend ' s mania was brief and tragical . Having been invited to a half-dozen of pic-nics given in honour of the officers of the 14-ltli , who had been lately quartered in the town , she entirely forgot her scientific pursuits ; and when she roiapsed into her former state , and re-sought her ill-fated captives , she found them jying at tlio bottom of their dry recoptaclo in a shapeless and undistinguishablo masssunning , as llullis tersely remarked ; or , as her mistress more elegantly parapluascd it , evolving sulphuretted hydrogen in the most charmingly scientific manner . Turning over the pages of Fmsa ; we alight on the signature ' C . K . 'always attractive to us—nnncndod to an article on Mr . Vauguan ' s interest .

    ing worlc , Hours with tho Mystics . We would say how and why we admire this article if we did not want all our space for an extract , which , indeed , in its spirit of reverent tenderness towards human weakness and suffering , sufficiently indicates tlio reason of our admir-ation : To understand any man , wo must have , sympathy for him , oven affection . No

    intellectual acutenesBj no amount even of mere pity for his errors , -will enable us to see the man from within , and put our own souls into the place of his soul . To do that , one must feel and confess within oneself the seeds of the very sftme errors which one reproves in him ; one must have passed more or less through 13 b temptations , doubts , hungers of heart and brain ; . ' . . . Gently indeed sho-uld we speak even of the dreams of some self-imagined ' Bride of Christ , ' when we picture to ourselves the bitter agonies which must have been endured ere a human soul could develop so fantastically-diseased a growth . ' She was only a hysterical nun . ' Well , and what moTo tragical object , to those who will look patiently and lovingly at human nature , than a hysterical nun ? She may have been driven into a convent by some disappointment in love . And has not disappointed affection been confessed , in all climes and ages , to enshroud its victim ever after , as it were , in a sanctuary of reverend pity ? If sorrow ' broke her brains , ' as well as broke her heart , shall wo do aught but love her the more for her capacity of love ? Or she may have entered the convent , as thousands did , in girlish simplicity , to escape from a world , which she had not tried ,

    before she had discovered that the world could give her something which the convent could not . What more tragical than her discovery ha herself of a capacity for love which could never be satisfied within that prison?—and worse , when that capacity began to vindicate itself in strange forms of disease , seemingly to her supernatural , often agonizing , often degrading , and at the same time ( strange contradiction ) mixed itself up with her noblest thoughts , to ennoble them still more , and inspire her with a love for all that is fan- and lofty , for self-devotion and self-sacrifice , such as she had never felt before ? Shall we blame her—shall we even smile at her , if , after the dreadful question 'Is this the possession of a demon ? ' had alternated with ' Is this the inspiration of a god ? ' she settled down as tlie only escape from madness and suicide into the latter thought , and believed that she found in the ideal and . perfect manhood of One whom she was told to revere and love as a God , and -who had sacrificed iis own life for her , a substitute for that merely human affection from , which she was for ever debarred ? Why blame her for not xemembering that ' which was wanting , or making straight that which was crooked ? Let God judge her , not we .

    Fruser is very various and interesting this month . It has a story which begins and ends in this number , so that you can take it up in . an hour of neptic idleness or dyspeptic incapacity without incuxring any pangs of suspense . It has a , criticism—a little severe—of Professor Attotjn ' s Bothwelh and a criticism—not a little severe—of Mr . GiLfiijda . n ' s History of a Man > a humorous description of the c Sepoy '—Jac / c Sepoy , as he is affectionately called in India— -on parade and in his ' lines' ( meaning barracks ) ; and , for graver readers , the second part of . ' The Essay on Dwarfs and Giants , ' an article on the ' Indian Givil Service , ' and one on Dn Tocquevii-xe ' s work , On the State of 'Society in France before thei Revolutionof' 1789 . BUtcJcicood , too , is in one of its best moods—chatty , discursive , and to us

    especially fascinating , in a / Chapter on Peninsular" Dogs . ' The dogs in question are not domestic ; they are " sueli as you meet with in the streets of cities in south-eastern and southern Europe . ' Wild dogs' they are called ; but the truth is , they form a connecting link between the wild dog and the domesticated . . They are , in fact , an intermediate Sort of dog ; neither wholly wild , for their habitat is among the dwellings of men ; nor wholly domesticated , because ( for the good Spanish reason , ' tlonenmucba pulga' ) they are never permitted indoors . The writer tells charmingly of the friendship he formed with several of these dogs . We like best of all ; the story of ' Fido , because it shows that dogs , as well as men , are developed by suffering : —

    After a few largesses , and a little preliminary negotiation , I succeeded in coaxing Mr . 1 'ido through a side-door into tho garden of the hotel . lie entered at first with a half-savageand very frightened look , afterwards with more self-possession . In the garden I kept for his use a pan of water , which saved him . a trot of some extent to the nearest chafans . But , except that he evidently knew me as one from whom something was to be got , it was long ere I succeeded in eliciting any tolccn of recognition . When he did begin at length to show attachment , the indications were singular;—he certainly was an odd-tempered dog . My plan was to speak to him , to look him in the face , and rub his back- —more immediate contact being undesirable—with the end of my crutch . Presently , up went hia nose in the air with a dismal yowl . Evidently pleased all the " while , he was at a loss to express novel emotions . His yowl , in its wild pathos , much resembled the native songs of tho Portuguese peasantry , and indeed some singing that one is forced to hear nearer home . Then , starting off like mad , he would begin scampering about tho garden in a figure of eight , barking meanwhile with all his might . But up to the time of his melancholy end he never once looked me in the face like a dog of my own , and his eye retained its Bavago glare .

    Alas , poor Fido ! His end was melancholy indeed . A low , underbred fellow—an Englishman he was , I-am sorry to say—hada very fierce , powerful dog which ho had brought over from Liverpool ; a large dog , too , though not so great a beast as himself . This gentleman , who was a sort of a suttler , had a quarrel with the people of my hotel ; and having heard that there was a dog whom tho household noticed , took occasion to walk down tho street with his own dog at his heels , having first given out that he " would soon help old Mother da Costa to a notion of dog-iighting . " The consequence was a collision between tho two dogs . Fido , insulted , accepted battleho would not have turned tail to a lion—and in a short , savage conflict , if conflict it could ho culled , received injuries which in a very few hours proved fatal . I had ridden down into Lisbon , and was met on my return by Madame dn Costa with woful countenance . "Oh , sir , the poor dog ! your dog !—Fido , sir ! He ' good as killed , sir ; and he ' s in tho garden , sir . "

    Tlierc he lay , extended on his side in tho gravel walk . Poor Fido I In Ins neck gaped a hideous wound , not skin-deep ; the throat was fairly torn open . His eye > onco bright and fierce , had already begun to glaze in death . Yet , what it never had done before , it looked at me—a suffering , an anxious , a pleading , a beseeching look . Somewhat a proficient in tho language of dogs , I interpreted thnt look , " Here , bring tho pan of water , " Ho attempted to rise and lap , but could not . Administering a littlo at a time , I contrived , with the palm of my hand , to slack his dying thirst . Ho had alroady given tokens of entreaty , he now made a Bign of gratitude . A few faint thumps wit / t his tail on the (/ ravel were his final indication of life . So began and bo ended his recognition of a human friend ! Up tlio country , when restored to health , some months after , I met that benst of a fellow ; nnd from wlint then occurred had reason to think ho felt sorry , though not compunctious , that ho had killed my dog .

    -A . second article on ' Sea-side Studies , gives some of tho humour that is latent in Natural History as well as in other things , in tho very exciting combat between two Hermit Crabs , each bent , lite an egoistic crustacean

• Citation
  • Leader (1850-1860), Sept. 6, 1856, page 15, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse-os.kdl.kcl.ac.uk/periodicals/l/issues/cld_06091856/page/15/