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    mingling of claims of her own public services , and of her being his Emma . The one claim neutralized the other . If it was the principle and method of society in England to rewardpublic service , wherever found , without a glance at private moral deserts , Lady-Hamilton might and would have been pensioned , and raised fat above the destitution in which she died abroad . But such is not—and was , even leas , at that time- — the view of English society ; and ady Hamilton could expect nothing from the nation while tfie was cpmmendpd to them a ? Nelson ' s legaoy known , as she was , to , have estranged him t ' tqjfn a wife to whose goodness he bore the most emphatic testimony . It is a relief to turn , from the spectacle of Nelson writing that paper in his cabin to ft * at of hi ?

    funeral in St . Paul ' s , when the sailors seized his flag , as it was about to be lowered into , his grave , and rent it in pieces , that each might wear a fragment next his heart . * £ he leaden coffin , in whioh he was brought home , was out up and spread abroad in 5 jke manner , StfttUea and other monuments were voted in profusion { and for many years afterward . 8 children by t ^ e . firesides of England looked up when their ear was ^ triick by { he tone in wh } ch Jvelspn ' s nanj ? was spoJse / n . and wondered ajt the tears which they saw fn their parents' eyes . Jfever was inan more mourned by a natjon . " Although written as the introduction to her former \ voyk , this yglume is corupl ^ te in itself , and is useful as a phllpspphic § umqiary pf 9 , 11 important period .

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    REALITIES . jteolititf . A Tale . By E . Lynn , Author of Aseth the figyp--tian , and Amymone . In 3 v « ls . 8 aunders aud Otley JHaving gained 3 name b , y her treatment of thqse difficult subjects—Egyptian and GrreQiajj life—Miss Lynn now attempts the still more difficult subject—Realities ! To the uninitiated it seems gp easy-to be natural , and to describe realities J Yet so difllicult is it tWt pot pne in a thqijpand can write as he thinks , but each writes more or Jess according to a pattern ; that is to say , not as he thinks , bu t as he thinks he ought to write I If this be true of the mere diction , it is glaringly so pf the rpodes of

    representation , pifj&cultas it is . tq write the phrases you think , it is still rnpre difficult to describe truly what you eee , or to represent what you imagine . In fact the difficulty is only to be overcome by Genius . As authors in general do not write according to the idiom of their own minds , but according to the idiom of tfr ^ lit erature of the day , gathering together all the current phrases , worn images , and familiar turns which belong to no one writer but have become common property—as they aim at a conventional smoothness and harmonious

    adjustment of sentences , rather than at vivifying their style with the infusion of their own personalityso likewise in describing or in representing they follow conventions , and sacrifice individual truth to the so-called poetical effect . The first test we should apply to a young writer , in a consultation as to whether he had genuine artistic power , would not be whether his style were harmonious , his images captivating , or his command of language remarkable ; we should set him to describe the brick vyall opposite ! Ten to one he would fail miserably . Twenty to one he would exaggerate !

    The attempt to describe th , e realities of Lifp is singularly ambitious , because , the difficulties of A . rt become intensified the nearer its subject and form approach to the Actual , while retaining the purposes of the Ideal . A tragedy in uroqe , taken from modern life , is ten times as difficult as a . tragedy in verse moving amidst the ill-understood fashions of the past . IJence the modem novel , unless mainly satirical , is scarcely ever a faithful representation of society ; its characters , its action , its scenery , are all—except in rare instances—so unlike the actual truth , that in proportion to the seriousness of its aim becomes the greatness of its failure . Miss Auaten stands alone in her incomparable pictures

    of life ; and the subtlety and genius , restricted though the scone of that genius may be , which created Emma , Pride and Prejudice , arid Mansfield l * or / c , have found no rivals . In a higher sphere , And representing lifo under more impassioned phases , George Sand may he cited ; ta a master of the art , though die often sins against the truth of reality . Such lining our view of the difficulty there is In %

    givuan adequate representation of ( h ^ t complex drama moving before our eyes , it will not surprise Miss Lynn , for whose elpmieuco and general power we have the hi ghest respect , if we pronounce her jilcture of social life to be one which falls short of its aim . Whatever may be thought of the interest of the atory , the passion and eloduenpe thrown into it , or of the antagonist against conventions which rises up in every chapter , Shore will bo no one , wo

    believe , t o accept this work as giving shape and . substance to the Realities of pur life . We do nof gay that Reality has not formed the groundwork ; we qay it W not in the work . The brick wall may exipt frpm which the copy is made , but the copy is untrue . Jt is not the fact we doubt ; it is the Art . Singularly unfortunate we must call the choice of her subject , which , lying of necessity beyond the sphere of her own actual experience , frustrates all her efforts . How is it possible for hqr to know theatrical life with anything like the accuracy needed for artistic reproduction ? How can a woman know enough of the slopworker ' s modes of

    existence , to give anything but a partial representation of them ? Yet we are in this work mainly thrown behind the scenes of a theatre , and into the dread alleys where slopworking rises hideous amidst gp many horrors . Ifer aim hag been a philosophic aim . She has undertaken to portray the trials and perils which a free , impulsive , truthful nature must necessarily encounter in a world of convention , compromise , and repression . Clara deSaumarez , the heroine , is charmingly introduced to us as a madcap , impulsive child , who " shocks" her mother , and makes life a burden to all the " proprieties . " Her mother is happily touched in this passage : —

    " ? 4 x > reoyer , Mrs . de Saumarez was a woman . By this I mean she was a person who took her stand on her womanhood , and treated it as a moral qualification . She cared not to ask herself whether her opinions and feelings were intrinsically right or no ; she simply asserted " that they were ' womanly' according to the conventional ideal of that characteristic j full , as her admirers said , of the ? nice feeling' and « rightmindedness' which Mrs , Ellis has made so popular .

    She did not much value the affections and instincts of womanhood ; she did not think these were characteristics to be specially preserved . Her affections lay exclusively in her morality—and her morality was the product of her intellect ; and thus there was not much room for the luxuriance of natural forces . It is easy to be understood how such a mental ^ condition as this must have been opposed to Clare's passion , and impulsiveness , and how much mutual affliction , must have sprung from such mutual dissent between mother and child . "

    And throughout the character is sustained . Clara does not seem like her phild . In cpurse of time it turns put that she is not . Put out to nurse , the nurse thought to benefit her offspring by a substitution : — "At the proper time Clare was returned home . Her mother , truth to say , was pleasantly startled at the improvement wrought in . the pale puny changeling she had sent out . it could hardly be recognized . It had expanded into a fair , fat , rosy thing , with great blue eyes , and great red cheeks , and dimpled hands , and rounded legs—just the kind of thing that

    mothers delight to exhibit nude for the better display of the tat and the fairness of the baby creature . Tumbling about the room like a larger ball—a soft , round , fluffy thing , all pink and white—with wilful propensities of noiee and mischief even then—laughing , if it saw but a bird fly across the lawn , as if it had been Buddenly seized with a merry madnesseven when unnoticed and silent , rolling its heavy little head like an idiotic toy set in perpetual motion —r-ever muttering pleasant thoughts with its rod , wet , opon lips , that kissed all they < ame near , and left large stains on painted doll and dog—crowning with twentieth time

    insane delight when it fell , for the that hour , in the marvellous sitting posture of a clumsy baby-r-holding up its short white irook with both its dimpled hands as it cume shyly to the callpointing to its new shoes or its broad ribbons with a bird-like noto of unconscionable prido , as it strove to hug its little foet when scrambling over your lapassorting its own wayward will , und raising itti shrill voico in passion or in pleasure on the smallest oocu-Bion .-r-the most self-important , seliV willed thing in the world was this name infant heireaa ; of more bustlo , « oiso , aaBortion , and trouble than all tho rest of thft household combined . "

    The want of nyinpathy between the proper " mother and the impulsive child strikes the keynote . The Haine antagonism ( 'lam finds when she comes forth into the world ; if her father and mother misjudge her , how can strangers appreciate tho purity of her motives ? She is driven from home , and in London a new experience begins : there she knows Wo and triumph , and koitpvv , and humiliation ; there hIio is imprudimt and iniajudged ; loacs her character from careleaaiiCHs of " what will the world say "; and there aho is made acquainted with soino of the social diseases of our time . The

    intention jn , as wo » uid , philosophic ; hut wo ounuot applaud tho choice of machinery . Of all places , pm'hntiN the theatre wux the worat for guch a drama . It admits of considerably independence in tho aoturu , and irregularity in their modes of life ; but it in itself a half-mil , half . fuuUtiaut ) aximtsuoe .

    Clara , however , chooses the stage as a profession , and falls in love with her manager , Vasty Vau ^ han , seeing him only through the inexperienced eyes of girlhoqd . We will extract a bit from the account of her de"but : — " The morning never passed her rosy fingers over 9 happier hrow than that which greeted her from yon . garret window , with its upturned look of passionate delight : nor did the houj » ever flutter b / a lighter heart than that whieh beat loud music of hope and loye and confidence in the coming evening stealing on so gently . Jler bridal day wpuld have been tame monotony compared to the intense eestacy of this professional baptism , The flushed abandonment of a Bacchante revel would have been chill languor

    compared to the divine passion of life which filled her whoLe nature , and seemed to float her in a golden sea dyed rainbow bright . Earth was no longer earth —no longer this cold clod of clay , this dull mas * of inert matter . It was a glowing spot of heaven on which she trod , and where she reigned , as a queen on her regal throne . All nature seemed to have conspired to do her honour—all humanity seemed to have desired to form her triumph . Wherever she looked , she saw bright faces speaking eloquent love ; she saw the glowing- sunshine that for her had taken back a summer's warmth into its autumnal house ; she saw gay flowers lying in rich profusion round her

    chamber , and met great gifts and fond affection wherever she might turn . No wonder that she felt as if earth and heaven both wished to do her honour on this fateful day . Young and unworn , each new emotion was a glimpse of Paradise to the fresh heart which preferred any kind of feeling to the negation of calmness—to the death of indifference . How much , then , must she have felt when such mighty emotions concentrated themselves together in so small a space of time !—when love , ambition , the flushed pleasure of young vanity , and the proud consciousness of superiority , nil revelled in that burning souJ , unchecked by doubt or chill staid knowledge of the nothingness of life 1

    •• I have r » o words to express Clare s sensations today . My Jeacjen hand's dull trace blurs the page which only sunlight should inscribe and rainbow tints emblazon . The delirium of poetic rapture that filled her brow and throbbed through her heart like lightning quivering through a summer ' s evening sky , can be as little examined as the delicate pleasure of the nautilus , or the palpitating happiness of the floating butterfly . When I say that it waa godlike—that it was rapture which might have made heaven itself more bright—I have said all that language has to express the intensity of her blessedness .

    " Good Miss Kemble , who thought of the footlights as just so many glowworms in a gold mine , and who cared for her profession only in ratio with her income-tax , was perfectly amazed to see the intense feeling which Clara exhibited . It was not the mere excitement of nervousness—not that small fluttering of the heart , which people who know not how to feel think bo great and warm ; but it was a kind of divine madness or intoxication whieh utterly transformed .

    her . Her very stature was inereased as she trod ao swiftly , yet so stately ; and an expression of dignity , that was neither pride nor selfishness , gave her a majesty beyond the grave grandeur of age . Her eyes were like great blue gems swimming in light , as they flashed out their worlds of boundless joy ; and one word alone seemed written in every feature and spoken in every movement— ' Success—I will succeed ! '

    " All those who saw her throughout the f \ a , y predicted this auooess . The lustrous light which shone on her brow was , bright enough fgr even the dullest to perceivQ . A few <> f tho women perhaps hinted vaguely at pride and discomfiture , und rna ? iy sneered at her excitability and enthusiastic temperament . Miss Gray loudly accused her of humbug and affectation ; und Mr . Muggins spoke familiarly of her us « little Clayton , ' and endeavoured to muko his good understanding with her apparent . " Clare lot them all « ay what they would . She wan too happy to bo moved by uny meaner fouling than the ecstatic raptured revelling through her .

    < ' Tho . quick , hand of tiuio brought round the hour at last , livening came . With it tho mo « t experienced dresner , the maid , the milliner , a hont of other oiliciiils , und Vasty—all attending on her at the theatre . Tho manager indeed had Hcureely ever left , her hide . Ho hud been walking in and out of the hoiiHU all the day on a miecession of important orruiuia . Now it wus to hear a . curtain aceuaovur again ; Hhe hud not given aulliciont empJnwi * to a * thut or a ' which , ' or hou »«> other equally inipoi'tant word . JNow tho elbow

    it wus to re-urrungu a eortuui atUUuh' ; luuMtbu a thought »»««> ' )() llt ' to interiore with the tire of the chair ; w tho bund mu » t be » couple of inch , h higher , not to cover the eurvo of the neck Again , her llower- wreath had u hIuuIu too much ol rtfl in it : a daub of yellow miiHt coino hero , and a bit of blue there , mid « "X *" <) f f ? reen y < mder . to tnrow out the whites und tha pink * . DisguUe it ho oould not . Tha great V . V . wm p « in < uMy amyous . f And thun Olura would , ittuci beft > ra bum Ilk * a child »«<* «* v hw P u < rt M 0 Qt >« 4 i » nUy—fo * « h » h » d

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    Urn 31 , 1851 . ] < S , tf $ i , ra * er . . & 17

• Citation
  • Leader (1850-1860), May 31, 1851, page 517, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse-os.kdl.kcl.ac.uk/periodicals/l/issues/vm2-ncseproduct1885/page/17/