JAMES KELLY O'DWYER. * Ix plan, this novel has some resemblance
to Gil Bias, with a differ- ence as regards times, country, and capability. James Kelly O'Dwyer is the son of a peasant, and in consequence of family troubles he leaves home to see the world; but not having learning for a profession and knowing no trade, he takes up with " service. The story consists of his village life, with full portraits of his father, mother, housekeeper or nurse, the parish-priest, and others, till the ruin of his sister by the arts of young Mr. Lindon the landlord. The continuation contains sketches of the different families he lived with, and of sundry adventures of his own in connexion with his service.
The author has a good perception of the common Milesian cha- racter. His persons, though a little exaggerated in a " stage-effect" way, are true in the main. The kind goodness of Mrs. O'Dwyer, dashed by her absurd pretensions as a descendant of Ireland's an- cient kings—the vanity of Mr. O'Dwyer about his legs, his book "laming," and his " janins "—the open good-humour but covert selfishness of Father Dillon—and above all, the simple affectionate mind and steady principle of old Honor, the friend or housekeeper —are truthfully painted. There is also a broad sense of the ludi- crous in James Kelly O'Dwyer : many of the traits and incidents are very laughable, although verging too much upon farcical extravaganza.
Want of breadth of purpose is the defect of the noveL The whole of O'Dwyer's early life is true, but the question arises, what need to write it P As a picture of the general life of the Irish peasantry it is not accurate, for the family and village of the O'Dwyers are rather peculiar; and the incidents are of too common or farcical a nature,—as the elder O'Dwyer's race to win a second wife. The seduction and death of Grace O'Dwyer are, strange to say, too natural for deep effect in fiction, even had not the subject been hacknied : pity is overcome by the artfulness of her conduct, and by her being already betrothed The subsequent adventures of the hero are not so much a story as an account of his different places. And the whole comes to nothing, breaking off abruptly. So far as concatenation or purpose is concerned, any servant in the world would have a similar tale to tell, except as regards the policy of Irish high principle in a flunkey. It is a story not only without an end but without an object. High life below stairs is often well done, though mostly with the drawback of being too theatrical. Mr. Lindon's valet, Mr. O'Car- roll, is a good sketch, as he appears on the first arrival at O'Dwyer's native village. His master and a relation have taken up their abode at the O'Dwyers' as being the only house in the place fit to receive them, and have put all the simple inhabitants into a fluster.
• The Life and Adventures of James Kelly O'Dwyer. In three volumes. Pub- lished by Bentley.
" To the minute of eight, by his own watch, Mr. O'Carroll tripped in from the town, very particularly drunk indeed, and boasting to me that he had merely thrown off sixteen dandies' of half-and-half, and could dance Banks's hornpipe on a china plate without cracking it.
" On my asking him if he was not afraid to appear before his master in that state, Not I, by Bacchus,' he answered, triumphantly snapping his fingers : I may dhrink a hogshead of the pure thing, if I choose, only be sober—augh !—that is, fit for business. And so I am; I was upon honour with the don above, to be here at this particubir hour ; and here I am, sober as a judge. Augh ! I fear I shall be sick ; that curet blue-stone stuff, at the sheebeen above, is enough to kill a man that is used to good liquor. Hark ye, old Mrs. What-do-ye-call-yerself, honour bright,' have you e'er a dhrop of clear pure straim, from the mountain's brow ? '
" ' The ne'er a dhrop, sir,' said the housekeeper, looking concerned ; thim fine things ain't in those parts at all.'
" 'Ha! ha! ha !—spring wather, I mean, my dear antiquity—pure spring wather : 'tis time to commence menu—manufact1 •411' the cock—cof—coffee —cafes they say in France. Did ye ever hear any French, ye Hottentots ? No ! well, listen—' Oon tas du tay, si VOUB play ! ' that is to say, A cup of toy, if ye please.' Quite simple and easy. ; and now for the caffee.' " He then set about instructing us in the method of preparing coffee, which none of us had ever before seen, either raw or ' manufactured.' The odour was grateful to some of us, but the taste was disagreeable to all every one preferring tea : at which the valet laughed scornfully, declaring we
were perfect wild Irish for ignorance.'
"But commend me to your habitual drunkards, with seasoned heads. This fellow was so full he could hardly. keep on his feet, and he fell twice ; but he instantly recovered his equilibrium, and continued his operations without a single mistake or accident : nothing but an occasional sick qualm, his flushed face, and a thickness of speech, betrayed that he was under the dominion of whisky. " Nor was there the slightest check to his conversational powers, either manner or matter. Whilst the gentlemen were partaking of coffee, we of the circle below were kept in a constant state of excitement by this versatile genius. He was eminently blessed with a ready tongue, a creative imagine- ,tion, and an offhand brazen manner, which altogether made him the best of 'good company for such as his then audience, who knew so little of the ways of the world, and were credulous in proportion. However, I was near going to rough work with him for his freedom with Grace; who, he swore, , re- minded-him of the image that inchants the world, that he had seen on the Continent of Europ', but whether in Speen, Greece, or lily, confound him if he could tell, for head was a little addled, he confessed : but it didn't matter where she, the marble Vanua was, for here she is in living flesh and blood !'
"In this mood, and with his capacity, of course he told us many lies, but also truths whioh we took to be lies of the most thumping description: for instance, the height of Mont Blanc, in the Alps; the great size of the chapel (as he called it) of St. Peter's at Rome, and its so many hundred windows ; of mountains vomiting flames of fire and red-hot stones; of wells of ever- boiling water ; of trees that yielded milk, bread, and cabbage • of nuts the size of a man's head ; and of parts of the world whose inhabitants feasted on human flesh, raw and cooked. Yes,' cried he, emphatically slapping Nanny's upper leg, 'this would be the most delicious morsel their king would desire.'
" Mortial man ! ' exclaimed old Honor, in the virtuous simplicity of her heart, and sick of listening to such barefaced falsehoods, do you ever think of dyne ? ' "'Of dyire ? ' echoed the amazed narrator of wonders, quite unconscious of her meaning : 'not the least idea of it, my dear antiquity ! nor have you, I hope, while I am here. But even if you were dead, stiff and stark, the doctors have found out a plan to revive you, to make yer old skeleton rattle and dance in spite of itself. I have seen the bones of an old fellow dance a very tolerable pgg !'
"Up started poor Honor. As a good Christian, she thought she would commit a sin to listen longer - and, giving O'Carroll a look of mingled re- proach and pity, she hastily betook herself out of the kitchen, to pray, I make no doubt, for the sinner she had left. And not .till he had, by talking and laughing, exhausted himself and fallen asleep in his ()hair, would she re- enter it again.
" ' I'm glad he's knocked up,' said she, stealthily creeping, lest she should awake him; ' for, may be, the sleep 'ill do him good. An'.I 'spose all his gosther was the &its of the dhrink ? ' " To be share,' said what else ? ' "
Previous page
