OUR LIBRARY TABLE.

GREAT EXPECTATIONS. (London Chap-hand-washing, boot-creaking; Joe's whiskerman and Hall).-If Mr. Dickens's name did feeling; Mrs. Gargery's apron; the same now not stand alone on the title-page, we should as thirty years ago], and never getting deeper be disposed to attribute much of the conception than that, likening it to something strange, and -even some of the execution-of this story ever after mistaking that to which he has likened to his friend and fellow-writer, Wilkie Collins. it for the thing itself, and flying off into the For a long time now these novelists have been most astonishing metaphorical rambles—we all accustomed to write together. The Christmas know this manner by heart; and we all know numbers of "Household Words," jointly pro- that his characters are not men but funnilyduced by them, showed year by year a gradual painted puppets, though sometimes a human assimilation of the two styles. At first the truth is spoken out of their wooden mouths difference was broad and marked; the least which startles us as if a stock or stone had critical of us could assign to each writer his own spoken. Professing extreme naturalism, he was chapters. But, after a Christmas or two, readers the most unnatural of writers. Professing to began to be puzzled in such investigations. draw the most familiar portion of the world Which was Mr. Dickens and which was Mr. around him, he lost his way and got into a Collins came to be decided mostly by the choice, world which was the most extravagant burlesque not the conviction, of the critic. No longer we of that he had left behind, a region whose inwondered at the monstrous joining together of habitants habitually made harlequins and pantablack fish and beautiful woman: the mermaid loons and clowns of themselves, where pantomihad disappeared, and if the physiologist could mic transformations were continually occurring, still detect in the delight of gods and men, a things becoming men and men things, and one suspicion of the fishy fins and tail, he confessed thing becoming another, until all was a chaos. that those anomalous members had been re- The closest of observers, he was the worst of duced to their lowest possible rudiments. That describers. The distant hills of the landscape this assimilation of the two styles was a great he looked upon were as near to him as the gain to the joint story is evident enough. pebbles under his feet-he saw the grass grow Whether the influence of the one writer upon upon their ridges, and strove to paint the growthe other, when exhibited in works written ing of it. He had the keenest sense of a certain separately, is a gain or a loss, it would occupy harmony and likeness between all things in more than the space at my disposal here to heaven and earth; but trying to express it, discuss. The influence of Collins upon Dickens instead of showing how all things were parts of was very much greater than that of Dickens an universal whole, he made each other than it upon Collins. If we compare this last book was. That a writer, when attempting to copy with the early sketches by Boz, we see how the commonest phases of life, should be betrayed great is the change, and further that this change by his imagination into inventing an altogether is all in the direction of the Romantic school of ideal world, with, inhabitants unreal as the which Collins is the English chief. Collins's shadows in Plato's cave, is a fact that would books on the other hand show simply a steady seem at once to separate him broadly from the progression in the one line which his genius had naturalists. Dickens's first fame, as it seems to marked out for him. Dickens's influence upon us, was a pseudo fame. He will never live him is to be found only in treatment and phrase because of his truthful representations of nature, -in a spice of sentimentalism, in a solemn or because of his insight into human character, aping of jocularity utterly repugnant to his or because of his photographs of the manners manner of thought-never in conception either and customs of the time. So long as his books of story or character. Still, though we attribute do live it must be from other and even opposite much of the change in Dickens's writing to causes. His original wit and talent of grotesque Collins's influence, we must allow that the change and exaggerated description caught the public is by no means in opposition to his own genius, ear by their strangeness at first; and people and that his bias in this direction would have instantly attributed to him a power of depicting shown itself had Collins never written. Dickens low life, because they happened to be low-life began by professing an extreme naturalism. In puppets who were exhibited in this new species his earliest sketches and in Pickwick, he de- of writing. But among thoughtful persons his scribes only such scenes as came under his own fame will rest by no means on his talent for notice. The lower classes of life, the ordinary describing simple nature high or low, but on his places and events and characters-these he sets literary art. We must pass on to the book in before himself as models from which to paint. hand. Briefly let us write, that, comparing To say that he painted these most untruly is to "Great Expectations" with the "Sketches by say only a truism stale to everybody now. We Boz," we should pronounce "Great Expectaall know his manner of observation. Seizing tions" to be the legitimate offspring of Dickens's upon some external point or trait in a man true genius, and the sketches to be mere abor[Wemmick's post-office; Jaggers's finger-biting, tional fruit of an immature tree. In the legends

introduced into his earliest works, in "Oliver | trast of luxury and extravagance here to the old Twist," in a "Tale of Two Cities," we may trace, blacksmith life-a preparation by exquisite senstep by step, the over-mastering of false sitiveness of honour and position, and so forth, naturalism by native romanticism. However that should make the discovery of the convictmuch Wilkie Collins has influenced him, it has origin of his wealth fall with the greater force. been not against but with the grain. This ro- We find nothing of the kind. Pip does not mance of "Great Expectations" is a little too enter high life; he gets but moderately into much like "The Woman in White." It would debt; his nerves do not become exquisitely be difficult to point out the precise points of sensitive. He of course cuts Joe, the blackresemblance. If analyses of both plots were smith (what else could he do? particularly when placed side by side we should find that that of instigated thereto by Estella); and he comes to the later book was even carefully rendered dif- look upon those youthful dealings with the conferent from that of the earlier. Still the stories vict as the black spot in his life-the one action are of the same kind, and affect us in the thereof which makes him unfit for the comsame manner. As "Elsie Venner" could not panionship of Estella. Volume the second ends have been written unless " Transformation" with the return home of the convict, who, had been written; so, though in a less degree, having escaped, enters England at the peril of this book could not have been written unless his life. The convict discovers himself to Pip "The Woman in White" had been written. as his secret benefactor; and thus Pip is saddled The readers of "All the Year Round" must be- with the hiding of this terrible monster, and gin to feel this painfully. The plot runs thus: finds all his air-castles blown to the winds. Pip, hero and autobiographer, has no connection At the same time Estella becomes engaged in by blood with any of the characters who help marriage to a youthful enemy of Pip's. Volume on the action of the piece. Pip in early child- the third (by far the best portion of the book) hood succours an escaped convict, feeding him is occupied with the account of Pip's hiding of and procuring a file for the removal of his the convict, his attempts at escaping with him, fetters. This convict, afterwards transported and the final capture and death of that unhappy for life, grows rich abroad, and in gratitude de- person. The suspense and excitement is kept votes all his riches to the service of Pip. The up, from beginning to end, with admirable skill. first volume brings Pip up to the crisis when it There are episodes here too, but all of the horis made known to him that he is heir to a great rible kind; and these, whether intentionally or fortune at the hands of some unknown bene- not so, help on the excitement of this part of factor. In the meantime Pip, brought up as a the story. Miss Havisham is rescued from blacksmith with the husband of his sister, has burning by Pip. Pip is tied up hand and foot been introduced to an eccentric maiden-lady by a bloodthirsty villain, and, so, threatened named Havisham. Living with her is a beauti- with death. (By the way, though as a short ful girl, called Estella. With Estella, Pip of story this scene would be excellent, it is course falls in love. He has always dim hopes thoroughly out of place here.) The plot, such that Miss Havisham will do something for as it is, evolves itself in this volume. A man him. When he hears of his good fortune he at named Compeyson, an old accomplice of the once decides that Miss Havisham is his bene- convict, now inimical to him, turns out to be factress. Jaggers, Miss Havisham's lawyer, is the person who had formerly jilted Miss the medium chosen by the convict to convey Havisham. Estella turns out to be the daughter his good intentions to Pip. Jaggers, Miss of Mr. Jaggers's housekeeper. More wonderHavisham's confidential man, is established as ful than all, the convict turns out to be Estella's Pip's guardian. Jaggers, seeing Pip's supposi- father. That such a series of disentanglements tion, never gainsays it by a word. Moreover, does not appear very ludicrous in the reading Miss Havisham herself, seeing the same, fools says much for the skill of the story-teller. him to the top of his bent. He is made to be- Finally, Pip goes abroad (all the convict's lieve that Estella is intended for his wife. This wealth having been confiscated to the Crown), Estella, Miss Havisham (a person who has been and, returning after an absence of many years, jilted when young) has educated to revenge her meets Estella-a charming widow-among the injuries upon the whole race of man. Pip ruins of Satis House, Miss Havisham's former is one victim: moreover, Pip serves to Miss residence. We are led to suppose that they Havisham as a thorn in the sides of her harpy lived happily ever after. Now, we cannot praise relations, who are eager after her wealth. this plot. The queer coincidences with regard The second volume finds Pip a gentleman, in to Estella, her papa and mamma, cannot be put London, believing Miss Havisham to be his down as anything but most impossible absurdibenefactress, regulating his behaviour with an ties. The account of jilted Miss Havisham and eye to her satisfaction, and with an eye to her wedding-cake is stolen bodily out of Mr. his future wedding with the charming Estella. Wilkie Collins's brains. For all this, the story Most of the scenes in this volume are irrelevant, goes well. The suspense of the last volume and the conduct of the story is disappointing. cannot be surpassed. A man who can make us We are introduced to some impossible puppets, hold our breath cannot be denied literary skill. after the manner of Dickens; the volume is a Let us bow to that, and let others discuss the series of episodes having little bearing on the absurdities, each for himself. As for the chamain story. We might have expected a con-racters, those who know Mr. Dickens's ideal

world, and can translate the ghosts thereof into, many of his essays.
the real flesh and blood of this world, will
discover in Mr. Jaggers a notable creation; also
in Joe Gargery they will discover some glimpses
of a human soul that will be like enough to
blind their eyes with tears. The book as a
story is utterly inferior to "A Tale of Two
Cities." The lovers of fun will find but little
facetiousness in it; but to those who respect
the magical art which can stir their blood by
mere words, this book will seem to have in it
elements of a higher success in that art than
Mr. Dickens has yet achieved.

They have a central thought in them, to which their details serve simply as illustrations. Without such a central thought or sentiment, a descriptive essay becomes a kind of Marine Store-shop. We can give no higher term to many productions of the so-called Cockney-school, which weary you with particularities and perplex you by the unnecessary exhibition of a hundred things in which no mortal takes an interest; and we cannot too earnestly repeat that with productions of this stamp Mr. Turner's writings are by no means to be classed. The "Jest" and "Earnest" of his book mingle very pleasantly together, and are separated by no arbitrary line of demarcation. They lie side by side, and the varying moods of the author's mind find rapid and skilful expression without too much heed of arbitrary conventionalisms. Mr. Turner's humour is not of the mere punning stamp. It belongs, as a rule, to the class of true Burlesque. Burlesque-the Byron-Burlesque does not require elaborate distortion of the English tongue, and should in no case consist mainly of that. Mr. Turner's │"Charade”— -one of the happiest of his effortsmakes us laugh at the genuine fun without making us shudder at the fate of some unhappy polysyllable torn, twisted, and tortured into a vulgar phrase. Again, whilst Mr. Turner knows how to be humorous without grinning through a horse-collar, he knows how to be pathetic without throwing himself about in spasmodic agonies. Very tender and delicate, and all the more touching through their absence of exaggeration, are many passages scattered through his essays and stories. This book is not one to be fairly judged by extracts. Carefully writing within his strength, he has produced few of those startling paragraphs which are known, we believe, as "bits of fat." He writes quietly, equably, with no lack of vigour, but with no ostentation of it. When he paints London scenes, he does not blind you with glaring colours; when he tells you a simple story he does not weary you by metaphysical refinements. Earnest he is, but his earnestness, like his humour-like his pathos, is unobtrusive. That he has the strength within him for higher things than any contained in this volume, few will doubt who peruse the book to its close, and few who begin it are likely to halt midway. We can very honestly commend it to our readers as one of the most charming volumes of its class that it has been our good fortune to meet with, and we sincerely hope that we shall soon have the pleasure of hearing from Mr. Turner again. We quote a few sentences from "Paillasse", as fair specimens of Mr. Turner's ordinary style:

J. A. JEST AND EARNEST: OR THE LUDLAM PAPERS. By Godfrey Turner. (Kent & Co., Paternoster-row, 1861.)-Those who know how vast a quantity of excellent writing lies buried in obscure and forgotten "back-numbers" of magazines and periodicals, will be glad to hear that another clever man has ventured to plunge into those dust abysses, and has returned with a bookfull of charming tales and essays. The anony-statement may be new to many admirers of Mr. mous system which so generally prevails in English journalism has perhaps prevented Mr. Godfrey 'Turner's name from being so well known to the reading public as it deserves to be. It is the name of a gentleman with a very keen eye, a very clear head, and a very warin and generous heart. All these qualities of his will readily enough be discerned by the purchasers of his book, and it is in the hope of adding to the number of that class that we pen the present notice. Mr. Turner, in the very outset, has chosen to adopt a name which is connected with somewhat mixed associations, not all of the best or pleasantest kind: "the impressions here recorded, the ideas set down, the opinions advanced, the sentiments avowed, are Cockney sentiments, Cockney opinions, Cockney impressions, Cockney ideas." Mr. Turner should know best, but we cannot willingly take him at his word. Of late years the "Cockney school," which began by somewhat exaggerated rhapsodies about Nature, which was thrilled with rapture at the sight of an Alderney cow, and went into dithyrambic ecstacies whenever it met a dandelion-has rushed into the other extreme, and devoted itself to the notable task of cataloguing furniture and photographing the kitchen-dresser. It has become characterised by what we may term a sterile abundance of details. Very husky in its pathos-somewhat vulgar in its humour-it is not a school to which Mr. Turner could ever belong. His ideal of art is a much higher one - his literary style is a much purer one-than we generally meet with. Loving London as he does, and loving her with a love that has been born of a very intimate knowledge of her ways, his heart is yet warm towards the old simple country life; and the general polish and accuracy of his writing reveal the conscientious endeavour of an artist. His subjects, indeed, are chiefly city ones; but he himself exclaims, towards the close of a very graphic and vivid sketch of a London fire My picture, be it observed, is a picture and not photograph." Herein lies one cardinal merit of

OF NEGRO MINSTRELS, AND DIVERS OTHER VAGABONDS.

Banjo-bearing and burnt-cork-besmirched; clad in absurd garments-in quaint swallow-tail coat, short of waist, long of skirt, and fructile of button; extravagant in the matter of shirt-frill, also of collar, likewise of hat, brooch, and eyeglass-who is

it now that halts before us on the pavement? He- | He did for his native county of Derbyshire yah, yah, yah! [the reader will kindly supply a what Sir Richard Colt Hoare did for Wiltshire, short spasmodic whistle, unspeakable by phonetic and the Rev. Bryan Faussett and the Rev. or other means]. This is the Minstrel of modern James Douglas did for Kent. Indeed, he did Civilization. Sunshine, fog, and mizzly rain, find him singing "Mary Blane," or the later nigger not preserve the human relics they disinterred; more. They, except in a single case or two, did strain "Hoop de dooden doo!" All his riches, Lear and wide-all his care and all his pride-all whilst their successor, thoroughly well acquainted his everything beside" Hoop de dooden doo!" All with comparative anatomy, preserved these sabis life a dreary laugh-making, in its own behalf, cred relics, arranged them in his museum, where Requiem and Epitaph, "Hoop de dooden do!" together they form a splendid collection, and as What shall be said of him-of Paillasse I mean- such have been visited by the chief foreign and socially, and politically? What figure does he English ethnologists. But the services Mr. make in the Census returns? Is he liable to Income Bateman's labours is rather for an age to come, Tax, under Schedule A or B? Would it be proper when scientific men and thinkers shall from this to admit him to the Franchise? Has he a right to and other storehouses of the kind, elimit such any opinion on the point, himself? What is his relation to the Dr. Smiles' view of Progress? Who inductions as to race and physical progress, as is he, in short, when he's at home? may be of the utmost value to science and sociological ethics. Mr. Bateman's father preceded him as a barrow digger on the Derbyshire moors; but, dying in 1845, his labours were continued by his son. The result of the earliest of these is recorded in the "Vestiges of Antiquities in Derbyshire," published in 1848; whilst the volume before us gives the result of explorations since that date. In the spring of that year, a burrow was re-opened near Arborlow, the great Druidical temple, which is to Derbyshire what Stonehenge is to Wiltshire. Its topmost interment had been broken up by the plough; but the original interment was presently reached, in a kind of rude cist or enclosure, formed by ten shapeless masses of limestone.

I can't say.

I don't like to think. I may have my imperfect ideas on the subject, but would rather not mention them. A certain popular actor was laughing but yesterday, not in a complimentary manner, at a street comedian, whom he saw, in very threadbare motley, amusing a miscellaneous audience in the neighbourhood of the Strand. The poorer of the two players, feeling the ridicule, paused in his entertainment. "Stop a bit," he said, looking sternly in the face of his fortunate brother; "stop a bit," he said, in a hoarse, very much out-of-door kind of voice," don't laugh :-I was one of YOU once !"

It was a just rebuke, and a solemn warning. It was, perhaps, more. The instinct of the Vagabond spoke out there, I think. The "profession" (as regular actors like to call their microcosmal guild) has become a deal too respectable. Let us have back again the old Vagabond theory, by all means and for all sakes. Let the poor player, as of yore, be typical of life in his uncertain coming and going, in his exits and his entrances, in the many parts he has to play, in his little hour wherein he frets and struts, in his unsubstantial seeming. "The best in this kind," says honest Duke Theseus, in the most poetical of all dramatic poems:-and if I were manager of a theatre to-morrow, I would have the words inscribed over my proscenium :-"The best in this kind are but Shadows, and the worst are no worse, if Imagination amend them."

TEN YEARS' DIGGINGS IN CELTIC AND SAXON GRAVE Hills, in the COUNTIES OF Derby, Stafford, AND YORK, FROM 1848 TO 1858. By Thomas Bateman. (London: J. R. Smith, 36, Soho-square).—It is very rarely that a reviewer sits down to his task under more melancholy circumstances than those present. The earliest copies of the book above mentioned had only just reached the hands of the author's private friends when they were startled and saddened by the announcement of his death, after a few days' illness, and in the prime of life. But, though thus short, it had been a life so industriously employed, as to gather up into it many admirable results and worthy labours. A country gentleman, of large fortune, and residing in the loveliest portion of the Peak of Derbyshire, Mr. Bateman did justice to his inherited tastes of an antiquarian character; and in a particular department, that of British ethnology, lived to win an European reputation.

The persons thus interred [says Mr. Bateman] consisted of a female in the prime of life, and a child of about four years of age; the former had been placed on the floor of the grave on her left side, with the knees drawn up; the child was placed above her and rather behind her shoulders: they were surrounded and covered with innumerable bones of the water-vole or rat, and near the woman was a cow's tooth, an article uniformly found with the more ancient interments. Round her neck was a necklace of variously shaped beads and other trinkets of jet and bone, curiously ornamented. The various pieces of this compound ornament are 420 in number... Altogether the necklace is the most elaborate production of the pre-metallic period I have seen. The skull, in perfect prevervation, is beautiful in its proportions, and has been selected to appear in the Crania Britannica as the type of the ancient British female.

The following is a picture of an interment, that carries us back in imagination to the most primeval times.

Underneath the large stones lay the skeleton of a man in the prime of life and of fine proportions, apparently the sole occupant of the mound, who had been interred whilst enveloped in a skin of dark red colour, the hairy surface of which had left many traces both upon the surrounding earth and upon the verdigris or patina coating a bronze axeshaped celt and dagger, deposited with the skeleton. On the former weapon, there are also beautifully distinct impressions of fern leaves, handfuls of which in a compressed and half-decayed state, surrounded the bones from head to foot. From these leaves being discernible on one side of the celt only, whilst the other side presents traces of leather alone, it is certain that the leaves were placed first as a couch