"The Cruise of the Brooklyn. A Journal of the principal events of a three years' cruise in the U. S. Flag-Ship Brooklyn, in the South Atlantic Station, extending south of the Equator from Cape Horn east to the limits in the Indian Ocean on the seventieth meridian of east longitude. Descriptions of places in South America, Africa, and Madagascar, with details of the peculiar customs and industries of their inhabitants. The cruises of the other vessels of the American squadron, from November, 1881, to November, 1884." By W.H. Beehler, Lieut. U. S. Navy. Illustrated. Press of J.B. Lippincott Co. Philadelphia. 1885.
The copious information given on the title-page leaves little to besupplied in regard to the subject-matter of this volume. The samethoroughness is displayed in the narrative and descriptions, as well ofthe incidents of the voyage and the details of shipboard life as of thehistory, productions, and scenery of the various places visited. Theyinclude, of course, no events or operations such as belong to the annalsof naval enterprise or maritime discovery, but, besides the ordinaryphases of service on foreign stations,--the interchange of courtesieswith the authorities, the routine of duty and discipline, and thescarcely less regular round of amusements and festivities,--we haveinteresting episodes, such as an account of the observations of thetransit of Venus at Santa Cruz, in Patagonia, the "Brooklyn" having beendetailed to take charge of the expedition sent out under Messrs. Veryand Wheeler. A visit to some of the ports of Madagascar soon after thebombardment of Hovas gives occasion for a readable relation of theinternal revolutions and the transactions with European powers that havegiven a pretext, if such it can be called, for the French claim toexercise a protectorate over a portion of the island, the enforcement ofwhich will require, in our author's opinion, "an army of at least fiftythousand men." Cape Town was a place of stay for several weeks on boththe outward and the homeward voyage, and in this connection the historyof the South African states and colonies, including the English wars andimbroglios with the Boers and the Zulus, is given in detail; while thenecessity for touching at St. Helena furnished an opportunity forrepeating the tale of Napoleon's captivity, with particulars preservedamong "the traditions of the old inhabitants, not generally known."
It will be seen that Lieutenant Beehler made good use both of the meansof observation and of the leisure for study afforded by the "cruise." Hewrites agreeably, and seems to have been careful in regard to thesources from which he has gathered information. The book is beautifullyprinted, and the illustrations are faithful but artistic renderings ofphotographic views.
Recent Fiction.
"At the Red Glove." New York: Harper & Brothers.
"Upon a Cast." By Charlotte Dunning.New York: Harper & Brothers.
"Down the Ravine." By Charles Egbert Craddock. Boston: Houghton, Mifflin & Co.
"By Shore and Sedge." By Bret Harte. Boston: Houghton, Mifflin & Co.
"At Love's Extremes." By Maurice Thompson. New York: Cassell & Co.
Although the scene of "At the Red Glove" is laid in Berne, it is atypical French story of French people with French ideas andcharacteristics, and it is French as well in the symmetry of itsarrangements and effects and its admirable technique. In point of fact,Berne is a city where a German dialect is spoken, but among the livelygroups of _bourgeois_ who carry on this effective little drama aprettier and politer language is in vogue. Madame Carouge, whosepersonality is the pivot upon which the story revolves, is a native ofsouthern France, and is the proprietor of the Hotel Beauregard. Herhusband, who married her as a mere child and carried her away from alife of poverty and neglect, has died before the opening of the storyand bequeathed all his property to his young and handsome wife. "Ah, butI do not owe him much," the beautiful woman said: "he has wasted myyouth. I am eight-and-twenty, and I have not yet begun to live." ThusMadame Carouge as a widow sets out to realize the dreams she has dreamedin the dull apathetic days of her long bondage. Although she is bent onlove and happiness, she is yet sensible and discreet, and manages theHotel Beauregard with skill and tact, while secluding herself fromcommon eyes. Destiny, however, as if eager at last to work in her favor,throws in her way a handsome young Swiss, Rudolf Engemann by name, abank-clerk, with whom she falls deeply in love. Everything isprogressing to Madame's content, when a little convent-girl, MariePeyrolles, comes to Berne to live with her old aunt, a glove-seller,whose sign in the Spitalgasse gives the name to the story. It would be adifficult matter to find a prettier piece of comedy than that whichensues upon Marie's advent. It is all simple, spontaneous, and, on thepart of the actors, entirely serious, yet the effect is delightfullyhumorous. Berne, with its quaint arcaded streets, its Alpine views, andits suburban resorts, makes a capital background, and gives the groupfree play to meet with all sorts of picturesque opportunities. The storyis told without any straining after climaxes, but with many felicitoustouches that enhance the effect of every picture and incident. In scene,characters, and plot, "At the Red Glove" offers a brilliant opportunityto the dramatist, and one is tempted to think that the story must havebeen originally conceived and planned with reference to the stage.
"Upon a Cast" is also a very amusing little story, and turns on theexperiences of a couple of ladies who, with a longing for a quiet life,
The world forgetting, by the world forgot,
settle on the North River in a town which, though called Newbroek, mighteasily be identified as Poughkeepsie. Little counting upon this nicheoutside the world becoming a centre of interest or a theatre of events,the necessity of presenting their credentials to the social magnates ofthe place does not occur to these ladies,--one the widow of a Prussianofficer, and the other her niece, who have returned to America after along residence abroad. They prefer to remain, as it were, incognito;and, pried; into as the seclusion of the new-comers is by all thecurious, this reticence soon causes misconstructions and scandals. Thepetty gossip, the solemnities of self-importance, and the Phariseeism ofa country neighborhood are very well portrayed, and, we fear, withoutany especial exaggeration. The story is told with unflagging spirit, andshows quick perceptions and a lively feeling for situations. CarolLester's friendship for Oliver Floyd while she is ignorant of theexistence of his wife is a flaw in the pleasantness; but "Upon a Cast"is well worthy of a high place in the list of summer novels.
Although "Down the Ravine" belongs to the category of books for youngpeople, the story is too true to life in characters and incidents, andtoo artistically handled, not to find appreciative readers of all ages.In fact, we are inclined to discover in the book stronger indications ofthe author's powers as a novelist than in anything she has hithertopublished. "Where the Battle was Fought," in spite of all its finescenes, had not the same sustained interest nor the same spontaneity.The plot of the present story is excellent, and the characters act andreact on each other in a simple and natural way. The youthful Diceys,with the faithful, loyal Birt at their head, are a capital study; andfrom first to last the author has nowhere erred in truth or failed inhumor.
Taking into consideration the ease with which Mr. Bret Harte won hislaurels, and the belief which all his early admirers shared that here atlast was the great American novelist, who was to hold a distinctiveplace in the world's literature, he has perhaps not fulfilledexpectations nor answered the demands upon his powers. The veryindividuality of his work, its characteristic bias, has been, in pointof fact, a hinderance and an impediment. The unexpectedness of his firststories, the enchanted surprise, like that of a new and deliciousvintage or a wonderful undiscovered chord in music,--these effects arenot easily made to recur with undiminished strength and charm. However,one may generally find some bubbles of the old delightful elixir in Mr.Harte's stories, and in this little group of them, regathered, webelieve, from English magazines, each is interesting in its way, andeach true to the author's typical idea, which is to discover to hisreaders some heroic quality in unheroic human beings which transformstheir whole lives before our eyes.
Mr. Thompson on his title-page announces himse
lf as the author of twonovels, "A Tallahassee Girl" and "His Second Campaign," both of which weread with pleasure, and this impression led us to turn hopefully to athird by the same hand. "At Love's Extremes" does not, however, take ourfancy. If the author undertook to discuss a complex problem seriously,he has failed to make it clear or vital to the reader; and if thevarious episodes of Colonel Reynolds's life are to be passed over asmere slight deviations from the commonplace, we can only say that weconsider them too unpleasant and abhorrent to good taste to be imposedupon us so lightly. There are also points of the story which seem tomock the good sense of the reader. Has the author considered the stateof mind of a young widow who has heard that her husband has beenmurdered in a street-brawl in Texas, who has mourned him for years, andthen, after yielding to the solicitations of a new suitor and promisingto marry him, learns from his own lips that it was his hand (althoughthe act was one of self-defence) which sent her husband to his tragicdeath? Mr. Thompson seems to violate the sanctities and the proprietiesof womanhood in allowing the widow, after a faint interval of shock, topass over this fact as unimportant. This situation has, of course, itsfamous precedent in the scene in which Gloster wooes and wins the LadyAnne beside her murdered husband's bier; but that is tragedy, and wemoderns are, besides, more squeamish than the people of those mediaevaltimes. In this story the situation becomes more logical, even if moreabsurd, after the return of the husband who was supposed to have beenmurdered. With a good deal of effort to show powerful feeling, thecharacters in the book are all automatons, who say and do nothing withreal thought or real passion. The vernacular of the mountaineers seemsto have been carefully studied, and is so thoroughly outlandish and sodevoid of fine expressions that we are inclined to believe it moreaccurate than the poetic and musical dialects which it is the fashion toimpose upon our credulity. But it must be confessed that, with only hisown rude and pointless _patois_ in which to express himself, theSouthern cracker becomes painfully devoid of interest, to say nothing ofcharm.
FOOTNOTES.
[001] John Sevier's Memorial to the North Carolina Legislature.
[002] J.G.M. Ramsay, "Annals of Tennessee."
[003] Haywood.
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