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Leader (1850-1860), 23rd September 1854, Edition Town of 2, Page 903

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      Untitled Article

      Our . last small fragments of literary news have all been exhausted . We have not a single paragraph—not even a sentence left—to offer to our readers . In this lamentable emergency , we venture to ask their indulgence for a substitute for our usual summary of news about books and authors , in the shape of a letter from an esteemed lady correspondent which reached us a day or two since . The letter will be found to refer to a subject of some literary and critical importance to the reading-public in general ; and on that account we think that . It may with perfect propriety be introduced in this part of our columns . \ Te print it without altering a word~—suppressing the signature , however , by the amiable writer ' s own desire : —

      ( To the Editor of the Leader . ) Sir , —I and ray daughters live in retirement at Mulberry "Wick ( a place you have no doubt heard of ) . We have a railway-station near , a healthy gravel soil , an excellent clergyman , and the best society—but that is not exactly what I want to ' write about now . It is a literary difficulty , if you please , which I am sure , with your gallantry ( excuse the apparent familiarity of the phrase ) , and your wonderful knowledge of books , and critics , and all that , you will lie most lwppy to help us out of . I and my daughters are very fond of reading—especially novels . We look

      into the advertisements of new books in the papers , and read the opinions of the press tacked on to them , and order at the library accordingly . Our great difficulty is , tliat , according to the opinions of the press , every new novel seems to be thought more perfect than the one going before it . There does not appear , according to the opinions of the press , to be such a thing as a bad , or even an indifferent , novel evex written now , by anybody—and yet I and my daughters ( and a great many highly intelligent people , friends of ours , besides ) have read , within the last two or . three-months , a great many books which seemed to us . — to speak strongly—shocking trash . For instance , the other day we saw in the Times this advertisement : —

      P UL S AT I 0 IS , / 3 JJafccl . 33 y the Authoress of " IIeart-Strixgs . " " This novel is the work of a very superior intellect . "—Standard . *' ¦ A tale of unbounded interest . "—Messenger . *' Replote with vigorous thought . "—Sunday Times . " Pulsatioxs will sustain the brilliant reputation of the authoress of Heartstrings . " —Atlas . * ' The reader is fascinated by the rich and powerful exhibition of human character . " - John Hull . " Impossible to lay this thrilling story down . "—Athenmum ( Boston ) .

      Well , sir , being told in this way by the press what a beautiful book Pulsations was , of course we got it ; and when we got it we could none of us read it through . My husband , who toolc the book up , and who does not mind setting himself in opx > osition to the press , said the authoress of Pulsations " wanted a good stick across her back . " I thought it was shocking stuff ; so did my daughters ; so did our neighbours , who tried it after us—and j-et here are the clever gentlemen who write for the papers fascinated by it , and finding it " replete with vigorous thought , " so forth ! It nppears to be just the same with other kinds of literature , which bitter experience makes us afraid to try , because the gentlemen of the press ( as g _ uoted in the advertisements ) seem to be so rapturously excited about them . " Have you

      a * Se «( t at Church ? by the Rev . Joijn Boffin , D . D ., Author of Why do you snore in Sermon-dine ? Sfc , 4 'c , " has a tail of quotations from the religious journals in its praise , which is too long to fit into my present piece of notepaper . As for the new Spasmodic Tragedy ( as I hear they call it in London ) , " Death- Screeches and the Stars , by VY . Randolph Donns , " it seems to have " llirillcd" ono critical gentleman ( who says that " Dobbs is a true poet" ) , and " encliuntcd" another ( who says that "' Death-Screeches' are brimful of burning thoughts" ) , and " astonished" a third , and so forth , uijtil wo reully dare not order the poem , from a fear that we should only expose our own ignorant inca-2 > ability of judging like the critics , by finding " Death-Screeches" ( to use one of iny husband ' s phrases again ) nothing but—Bosh .

      Pray , sir , oblige us with a word or two of explanation and advice on this very distressing subject . Are we all fools who arc incapable of knowing a good book from a bad one ? Or are tho critical gentlemen so invetorately good-natured , as a class , that they cannot find it in their hearts to say a word , against any book , however bad it may be ? Also please tell us , if you can , what guide we are to take next to tench us 3 iow to choose the best works only among tho new publications- —for wo are all at sea now , in consequence of tho opinions of the press . I don't want my name published ; but , supposing you have not time to answer my letter , if you were to print it , perhaps somebody else might . I ai « afraid I express mysolf in rather a confused way—but I can't explain more clearly , for my husband is shouting for his tea , and 1 have got to the bottom of my paper .

      Our amiable correspondent—who expresses , as wo believe , tho opinions of many other readers of her class—may bo easily and briefly answered . She and her family need not distrust their own capacities , and need not by any means imagine that the critics , as a class , are at nil overburdened with good nature . TIio solution of tho difficulty which has perplexed her is simple enough , — tho opinions of the press are not always quoted correctly in the advertisements . The little errors thus committed , it must bo understood , only occur when tho review of tho book advertised is unfavourable to it . 1 hen it happens , by a romarkablo coincidence which wo will not attempt to explain just now , that tho alight mistake ( accidentally mudo , of course ) is nlwnyu of such a nature as to convoy an impression of tho critic ' s opinion exactly the opposite of tho impreosion which lie wishoH to convoy hin » Holf iiolongmg ourselves to that rare and superior order of gentlemen of the proes who uro really overburdened with good-nature , we will refrain , for the present at least , from expressing ourselves aa fully as wo might on tins suDjoct . Wo prefer giving our correspondent one word of ndvico instead .

      Untitled Article

      A NEW TRAVELLER IN AFRICA . Life and Landscapes from Egypt to the Negro Kingdoms of the White Nik . By Bayard Taylor . Sampson Low and Co . W * e have a kindness for all African , adventurers for Bruce ' s sake . Everyman who travels towards Central Africa in these modern days , and prints an account of his travels , recals to us , by associations more or less vivid , the delightful time when we first read Bruce in a sunny corner of the playground , and when a new world and a new race of human , beings seemed to fee disclosed to us . As we opened Mr . Taylor ' s boob , and looked at the map and the table of contents , the strange people who once delighted and amazed us in the narrative of the first Abyssinian traveller—the lovely Ozoro Esther , the fierce and crafty Ras Michael , Bruce himself in his wandering character of " Yacoob the white man "—seemed to live and breathe in our memory again ; and we secretly resolved that even if the new book did happen to be a bad one , we would sftll deal gently and fbrbearingly with it , because it had reminded us of Bruee .

      Half an hour s attention , however , to Mr . Taylor ' s pages Was enough to show that he stood in no need of any special indulgence , even from the severest critics . One or two not very heinous faults of taste , a little too much of the American freedom of style , and an occasional diffuseness in passages of his narrative which had been better if treated briefly , or better still if not touched at all , are the only defects with which , we can charge him as a writer of travels . His merits are palpable enough to speak for themselves to most readers of any intelligence . In many places he writes eloquently , easily , and with a vivid feeling for the picturesque ; he has a lively sense of humour and does not indulge it too much ; and , best of all , le can feel sincere enthusiasm for -the beautiful in Nature and Art , and is not ashamed to ovrnit . ^ In these days of flippant and foolish travel-writing , a traveller who has in him a capacity for hearty admiration , and who possesses sense enough to express it honestly , is sure to be received as a welcome guest , on that account alone irrespective of all other considerations , at our library table .

      Mr . Taylor ' s journey begins on the Nile , which he ascends to the Cataracts , noticing the different places of interest on the banks of the river as he passes them in his boat . He proceeds by the Nubian Desert and the White Nile to Khartoum , penetrates to the populous negro kingdom of the " Shillooks , " and there , having reached a point of Central Africa beyond which modern explorers have hitherto failed to penetrate , unwillingly turns his back on the mysteries and dangers of the unknown regions , and sets liis face again towards civilisation and the north . We have marked many passages for extract—more , we fear , than there will be space to insert—as specimens of the vai'ied narrative , always readable and often interesting , of Mr . Taylor ' s journey . The first Sample we will present to the reader is an excellent and graphic description of

      BOAT LIFE ON THE NILE . " In the first plncc , we are as independent of all organised governments as a ship on thoopen sen . ( The Arabs call the Nile El bahr , the sen . ' ) Wo are on board our own chartered vessel , which must go where we list , the captain and sailors being strictly bound to obey us . Wo sail under national colours , make our own laws for tho titpe being , arc ourselves the only censors over our speech and conduct , and shall have no communication with the authorities on shore , unless our subjects rebel . Of this we have no fear , for wo commenced , by maintaining strict discipline , and as wo make no unreasonable demands , are always cheerfully obeyed . Indeed , the most complete harmony exists between the ruleva and the ruled , and though our government is tho purest form ot despotism , we flatter ourselves tliat it is better managed than that cf the Model Republic . " Our territory , to be suro , is not very extensive . The Cleopatra is a dahaliyefi , seventy feet long by ton bioud . She has two short masts in t 3 ie bow and stern , tho first upholding tho trinkeet , a lateen , sail nearly seventy feet in length . Tho latter carries the bdikdn , a

      small sail , and tho American colours . Tlio narrow space around the foremast belongs totho crew , who cook their meals in a small brick furnsico , and sit on tho gunwale , beating a drum and tambourinO j and singing for hours in interminable choruses , when tho wind blows fair . If thcro is no wind , half of them are on shore , tugging us slowly along tho banks with a long tow-ropo , and singing all dny long : ' Ayu , hainam-r-uyti hanihniV If wo strikeon a sand-4 > ank , they . jump into tho river , and put their shouldora against tho hull , singing : 1 hay-haylea salt P If tho current is slow , they ship tho oars and pull us up stream , singing so complicated a refrain that it is jtnposbiblo to write it with othor than Arabic oharactors . Thcro nr « eight men and a bay , besides our stately rais , Hassan Abd cl-Sa < lik , and tlio swarthy jpilot , who greets us every morning with a wholo round of Arabic salutations . _ " Against an upright pole winch occupies the plnco of a mainmast , stands our Uitohon , n > high wooden box , with three furnaces . Hero our cook , Snlumc , may bo seen nt all times ,, with the cowl of a blue capote drawn over his turban , preparing the marvellous dishes , whoroin his delight is not less than ours . Sulamo , like a skilful artist as ho is , husbands hi 3 resources , and each day astonishes us -with now preparations , so that out of few materials ho has attained tlio grand cliinux of all art—variety in unitv . Achrnot . mv fjiithi ' ul ( Jr /

      uroman , has bin station hero , and keeps ono oyo on the vessel and ono on tlio Icitohon , wliilo between tho two ho does not relax his protecting care for us . The approach to tlio cabin is . flunked ^ by our pro-vision cheats , which will also servo as a breastwork in enso of foreign aggression . A hugo fllter-jur of porous earthenware stands uguinst tho back of tlio Jcitoh « n . Wo keen our fresh butter and vegetables in a box nirdor it , wlioro tljo sweet Nile-ivalor < lrij- ) i * cool and clear into nn earthen basin . Owr broad and -vegetables , in an open bnakot of nalml / Lidos , nro Buapondod beside it , and tlio roof of the « ai * in supports our poultry-yard ana p ' goon-lioum . ' . Sometimes ( bub not often ) u kg of mutton may bo scon hanging from tho rliigo-polo , which extends over tho deck < mj a support to tho awning . 14 Tlio cabin , or mansion of tlio executive powers , ia wboul tiv «» lv- / ivo feet Jong . Its floor is two feet below tho dock , and its ceiling live foot above , s >> Unit wo « ro not . cramped or crowded in any pnrliculiu-. 13 vforo tho entrance ia h sort of portico , with n brood , cushioned seat on each side , und nido-awnincs to uhut out tho «»« . This ptoco > a devoted to pipes , and meditation . Wo throw up tho awnings , lot Urn light pour in on all Hides , and look out on tho desert mountains wliilo wo iuluilo tho inccimc ot tfio hunt . Our own rnuiii cabin is about ton foot long , and newly painted of a brilliant bluo colour . A broad divan , witU cushions , extends along each aide , serving aa a cushion by day nn < l a bod by night . iheiQ

      Untitled Article

      Let her , instead of paying attention to those opinions of the press which are advertised , pay attention to the opinions of the press which are foirly printed in their proper places in the newspapers , from the manuscripts of the contributors—especially when these said opinions are followed by extracts which enable her to judge for herself before she ventures on buying or borrowing any new book . Fallible as the critics are , she will not read a tenth part of the trash then that she is deluded into reading now—while she may at the same time claim the merit of helping to discountenance and destroy a mischievous and dishonourable system of puffing which lowers the character of the good books , and is of no real use to help the false pretensions of the bad .

      Untitled Article

      Critics arc not the legislators , but the judges and police of literature . They do not make laws —they iinterpret aad try to enforce them . —Edinburgh Review .

      Untitled Article

      September 23 , 1854 . ] T H E L E A D E R . 903

  • Citation
    • Leader (1850-1860), Sept. 23, 1854, page 903, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse-os.kdl.kcl.ac.uk/periodicals/l/issues/vm2-ncseproduct2057/page/15/