TWO GIFT-BOOKS FOR CHRISTMAS.*

"OF making many books there is no end, and much study is a weariness to the flesh." Thus wrote the wisest of men ; but his words find scant observance in these later days, especially at the hands of the great Society whose chief aim it is to spread far and wide the knowledge of the Book in which Solomon's wisdom is handed down to us. The S.P.C.K. is one of the largest agencies existing for the publication of books ; science, history, and light literature of a wholesome tendency, sharing its patronage with Bibles, Prayer-books, and tracts. It is, or ought to be, in these days of universal education, a great power in the hands of the Church of England, which raises its income among its mem- bers, and entirely controls its expenditure, amounting to more than £30,000 a year. This is derived mainly from subscriptions, but partly also from the profits of an enormous publishing business, which sends out over 700,000 Bibles yearly, besides great numbers of other books. Most of the income of the Society is spent on foreign missions ; but it is also a liberal supporter of parochial lending-libraries and of Sunday-schools, besides assist- ing emigrants by supplying them gratis with handbooks to the principal British Colonies ; and it translates the Scriptures into all the languages of the earth. The Society has now been nearly two hundred years in existence, and shows every sign of vitality ; but its work is so un- obtrusive and so quietly conducted, that many people fail to realise the amount of assistance that it has given to religions knowledge during the last century. The light literature that it publishes is usually of an excellent kind, healthy in tone, without being goody, and well adapted to the various tastes of young readers at various stages on the road to maturity. Such are the two books now before us, of which one is especially suited to girls between sixteen and twenty, whilst the other is rather intended for boys. The girls have decidedly the best of the two, for The Prisoner's Daughter is a very charming story. It is a tale of love,— "Love that is fire within us, and light above,

And lives by grace of nothing but of love,"

and the subject is very pleasantly and delicately treated. The love between the high-born French girl, whose father is a prisoner-of-war on parole at Winchester, and the gallant young Englishman, whose father fills the ungracious office of gaoler, struggles into existence, surmounts all obstacles, and wins its final victory, in spite of all the international hatreds of the age, and the pride and prejudice of the respective fathers, quite in the good old-fashioned way that has been described in every book that truly reflects human nature, from Genesis down- wards. Stale as is the old story, it yet has the power of touch- ing young hearts in every generation as deeply as though the passion of love were the one new thing under the sun. Its antiquity and its every-day occurrence do but enhance its charm; because love is the one incalculable event that may probably occur in every life, the unknown quantity without which no forecast can confidently be made as to any man's future. It may be merely an incident in the lives of some few exceptional people ; but the average man is made or marred by his love or his marriage, fortunate or unfortunate, wise or foolish, as it may be. And if this be true of men, how infinitely more so is it the case with women, and how reasonable is a girl's interest in the sentiment which may one day so entirely possess her, as to change the whole complexion of her existence, physically and mentally • The Prisoner's Daughter: a Story of 1758. By Fame Stuart.—The heatisty of the' Albatross! By Frankfort Moore. Illustrated by W. EL °reread. 404.4 B.P.C.H.

And how enticing are the glimpses into that enchanted land of dreams which has been rightly described as " Fool's Paradise ;" yet which is, after all, better than anything else upon earth, so long as the vision lasts. The heroine of our story is blessed with an ideal lover, worthy of her love and faith ; he deserves his prize, as well by the delicacy with which be con- ducts his courtship, as by the constancy with which he clings to the forlorn hope of success, during long years of separation and silence. Very charming is the portrait of the fair Jacquette, whose devotion to her father leads her through many dangers to share his exile and poverty ; and very true to nature is the scene in which she begins by lecturing the English captain, and ends by discovering that she loves him, and acknowledging the fact. The secondary love- affairs of the Winchester tailor's daughter are amusing ; and we would venture to recommend a few of Bridget's love-tests of the last century to love-lorn damsels of the present day. We have ourselves known several young women who attributed mystic power to a whole skin of a well-pared apple, cast over the left shoulder, and forming a cabalistic letter on the floor ; but the dumb cake is new to us, and must certainly be a severe test of the sincerity of affection, entailing, as it does, a long silence

' The dumb cake ?' asked Jacquette, astonished and laughing. ' Are there ever talking cakes ?" It is an English custom which is called by this name,' said Bridget, who would not laugh, believing too much in the efficacy of the dumb•cake to make fan of it. The worst is three people must do it, but I asked two friends to come one evening and try; for I must tell you that two must make it, two bake it, two break it and the third pat it under each of their pillows, only no word must bespoken all the time. I assure you that was no easy condition, but we did it, and I did dream of a man, and I feel sure it was Berry, only in my dream I only saw his back. Then whenever I pare an apple I try not to break the rind all the way round, and then if I succeed I throw it over my left shoulder. Nearly always it makes a B—that is for Berry; and if not it is a K for King.' "

The egg test and the bay-leaves are also original, and we should like to know if they are still practised in the good town of Winchester :- "' Patience is no good without hope,' said Bridget. I know what I will do, madam ; to-morrow I will get you five bay-leaves, and at night you must pin four of them to the four corners of your pillow, and the fifth to the middle, and then if you dream of the Captain, you may be almost sure you'll marry him before two years are past. And if that don't succeed, I'll boil an egg hard and take out the yolk, and then fill it up with salt, and you must eat it at nigl.t without speaking or drinking after it ; and then you are sure to dream of your future husband. The egg test isn't so pleasant or easy as the bay-leaves, bat some say it's more sure.' Jacquette could not forbear a smile, which did her good, as she answered, ' Don't you remember, Bridget, how you said that these tests were no good because they came wrong about Mr. Berry ?" So they did ; but who knows whether I did not forget some portion of them ?' "

Miss Stuart gives us a good description of middle-class life in 1758, lightly sketched-in, but with so much semblance of truth that it is difficult to believe that she herself has never sat at the hospitable board of the worthy tailor, and heard his wife offer the French Marquis her favourite recipe for posset , while Mr. Chase can scarcely be diverted from his favourite topic of the English naval victories, by all the efforts of his wife and daughter, combined with his own good intentions of respecting the feelings of his guests and steering clear of all allusions to the war.

The Mutiny on the 'Albatross ' is, as its name implies, a book of naval adventures, well told and interesting; but the story is completely cut in two in the middle,—the connection between the hero's boyhood and his youth being so very slender that the beginning and end have scarcely anything to do with each other, and would, we think, have been better arranged as two short stories than as one long one. Besides this defect, the true hero of the two divisions of the book is not Leo Cloudesley, who is their sole connecting link.

In the earlier half of the story, the most prominent and in- teresting personage is Leo's grandfather, the gallant Trafalgar veteran who dies of the exposure consequent on rescuing a ship- wrecked crew. The description of the wreck is excellent; and the figure of the old man is heroic as he takes command of the

boatmen on the pier, who would have despaired of the possi- bility of a rescue, not for lack of courage, but for lack of a

leader. He steers the boat through night and storm, and saves the drowning men, buoyed-up by the brave spirit that overcomes for the moment the weakness of his seventy-six years. Then he takes to his bed, and dies a few weeks after, on the anni- versary of Trafalgar

Suddenly the lady gave a start and cried out, looking towards the

house. There, at the door, stood the old captain, wearing the uniform he had worn long years before, and with his sword hackled on. He stood at the door, leaning upon the boatswain's shoulder ; then be tottered forward a few steps, looked up at the flag, drew his sword with trembling hands, and saluted the colours. Miss Halbert hastened forward.—' Dear father, let me help you back to the house now,' she said.= Yes, dear, yes,' he murmured ; but suddenly he turned back. ' No,' he cried, in a strange voice, no ; this is not a day for me to lie in my bed. We did not lie in our hammocks aboard the TemtSraire' on this day, long ago—but some of us lay very still before night. See ! there the ensign is hoisted ; stand by to salute the king's flag! The deck is cleared for action. What ! the Admiral is signalling to the fleet ? What is the signal that is flying ? Why are they cheering from ship to ship ? Ah, read the flags; shout it out—let the ship's company hear it: "England expects that

every man will do his duty." Cheer! let them cheer!' The old officer tottered, and should have fallen, but that he was upheld by his daughter and the boatswain. They helped him to the seat ; for a few moments he sat breathing hard, with his eyes closed. After a few moments of silence, he opened his eyes, looked at Leo kneeling by the chair, and laid his hand upon the boy's head. The captain's watch on deck is come, my boy,' he murmured. 'I'm going aloft. Beady, Admiral, ready !' Then his eyes closed, and that gallant soul went to his reward."

His daughter and his faithful boatswain follow him soon afterwards to the grave, leaving Leo and the reader to make acquaintance with an entirely new set of characters; which is tire- some, in the middle of a book. Leo's history is uneventful for some years, and is only resumed in detail when he starts on a long voyage; and he is a passenger on board the Albatross' (with the lady of his love, and her mother), when the mutiny takes place. The revolt of the Lascars and coolies against the handful of white men on board is told with great power, and the interest well kept up to the end. But although Leo behaves gallantly, yet in this part of the story also he plays a minor part, the hero of the mutiny being the captain of the Alba- tros,' the mate taking a good second place in the interest of the reader. Edith Bentham is a mere figure of straw, and her mother not much more ; the ladies are only introduced in order to intensify the horror of the black rebellion, and the most agreeable female character is Mrs. Brown, the stewardess. She is a host in herself, with her ready resource, undaunted spirit, and undoubting faith in the men of her own colour. She is given to pithy sayings ; and her advice in case of shipwreck on a desert island deserves quotation for its originality

It will help to cheer up the ladies,' she said in an undertone to Leo. It will help to cheer them up if you dine all together, and it's beet to give the table its old civilised look. Whenever you get wrecked on a desert island, Mr. Clondesley, you don't go trying to save such things as pots or kettles, but do yoar best to bring ashore a china ornament, or a gilt mirror, or something of that sort that will make you believe you are living in a civilised country. Take my advice, sir ; rescue a newspaper from the wreck, and lay it neatly folded up every morning on your table, even if your table is only the stump of a tree. That will prevent you from ever dying of loneli- ness.'—' Thank you, Mrs. Brown,' said Leo, with a laugh. I promise you faithfully that the first time I am wrecked on a desert island, I shall take your advice.' "

Everything ends well, and the book will be read with pleasure by the young folks, notwithstanding the obvious defects which we have pointed out. It is to be regretted that so much exciting adventure and graphic narrative should be spun together on such a feeble thread.