DEAN HOLE'S REMINISCENCES. *

WE have been treated to a great many volumes of reminis- cences of late years, but to few which have afforded us so much pleasure and amusement as this one of the Dean of Rochester. ‘. These memories," says the Dean, in his preface, "are the holiday tasks of an old boy who desires, and hopes that be deserves, to rest, but is too fond of work to be quite idle." And as such a holiday task should be done after an easy, idle fashion, with no too evident struggle to interest, amuse, or fill up an allotted space, so are these memories written in a pleasant strain of gossiping retrospection, which is quite sufficiently interspersed with good stories, both new and old. It is true that the volume would have borne a good deal of condensation with advantage, that some of the pages devoted to moralising would never have been missed, that some of the Dean's reminiscences of his notable contemporaries are hardly interesting enough to deserve record, and that many of his stories have by this time been pretty well worn out by constant use ; still, these are but the natural and inseparable blemishes of all memoirs, and they cannot be said to be more conspicuous in Dean Hole's work than in any other work of a similar kind. Even the antiquity of some of his stories can * The Memories of Dean Hole. London : Edward Arnold. well be pardoned in that he always tells them well, and has

given us so many others which we have never heard before. For the author has a fine sense of humour, and we are in no-way surprised that Leech found in him more than once a valuable

collaborator in the terrible work of providing weekly jokes for the pages of Punch. It is to Dean Hole, apparently, that readers of Punch owed that delightful farmer at a rent-dinner, smacking his lips over the rich liqueur, and

turning to the footman behind him,—" Young man, if you've no objection, I'll tak' some o' that in a moog ; " and the coachman who, pressed into service as a butler, and per- plexed at the wavering conduct of a restive jelly, puts down the dish with the gentle remonstrance, " Who'a, who'a, now ! " Leech our author knew intimately, and the chapters that he devotes to his memory are most valuable in that, with the exception of Mr. Frith's book, we possess no account of the artist and his life. Thackeray he knew also, and Dickens, though of them he has little to say that is new ; more interesting is his account of Dr. John Brown, the author

of Bab and His Friends. Of many other famous acquaintances we have only the bare mention. It is a notable failing with

all autobiographists, that they feel themselves compelled to put on record all the well-known names with the owners of which they may have at one time or other come into contact ; and by far the least interesting part of Dean Hole's book is that in which he treats of the authors, artists, and other celebrities whom he has met in the course of his life. In the case of Leech, we are grateful for any information, especially from one who was a dear and intimate friend. Bat with

regard to many of the others, the Dean can but say vidi tantum, and we are not particularly grateful for the appre- ciation or criticism of their work which he has appended to

that simple information.

Dean Hole has arranged his Memories after a whimsical fashion of his own, which is not without its merit. The chapters follow under headings placed in alphabetical suc- cession—Archers, Artists, Authors, Cricketers, Ecclesiastics, Gamblers, Gardeners, &c. The arrangement is a good deal better than a chronological one, and makes the book far more easy of reference. Perhaps one of the best chapters is that which deals with cricket, of which game the author is evidently an enthusiastic lover, as he seems to be, indeed, of all field sports. Some of the stories which he tells in this connection are excellent, notably one or two on the subject of umpires. To find an umpire without a little bias, as Dean Hole says, would be as difficult as to find the perfectly honest man with the lantern of Diogenes. " One worthy old fellow remarked, in returning thanks at a supper for the toast of the umpires : My opinion of an umpire is, that he should be fair, and I don't hold with no foul dealings. What I always says is, Fairation with [after a short pause] just a slight leaning towards your own side,' "—an admirable summing-up of a country umpire's view of his duties. Very good, also, is the tale of the umpire who had quarrelled with a member of one eleven, and who thus addressed a bowler on the other side :— " Mr. Bowles, that there Batts is going to play agin you to- day, and if ever you says to me consarning that ruffian, • How's

that P' I shall lose no time in telling you, You can chuck her up, Mr. Bowles." The Dean's recollections of cricket go back to the days of such ancient heroes as Fuller Pilch, Lillywhite, and Alfred Mynn, so that his memory has naturally stored many good tales of a game which has always been rich in anecdote.

Almost equally interesting are his reminiscences of shooting and hunting ; and with his remarks upon the former amusement we fully agree, though we would venture to say that it has been somewhat maligned of late, and that the practice of big battues and senseless slaughter is not nearly so prevalent as some hostile critics would seem to suppose. His hunting was chiefly confined to " The Raiford " and the " Belvoir Hunt," in both of which fields he had the oppor- tunity of meeting some of the most famous horsemen of the day. Of Earl Manvers, a munificent supporter of the former hunt, he tells a very characteristic story. The Earl was not a hard rider himself ; indeed,-

" He preferred the fallentis semita vita, and followed in the wake of the hounds, far from the madding crowd. If he met with obstacles which seemed to him unduly obtrusive, Robert, a favourite groom, got off his horse and removed them. One day a timid stranger, admiring this method of hunting made easy, attached himself as equerry, and followed through the gaps, until the Earl, turning towards him with a solemn courtesy, said, as he raised his hat, I am quite sure, sir, that you cannot be aware that for many years I have enjoyed in this hunt the exclusive privilege of being last; and I know I have only to inform you of this fact to secure your respect for my claim.'"

Under the heading of "Ecclesiastics," the Dean gives a very interesting account of country clerical life some forty years ago. He is a firm believer in the old and happier relations that used to exist between the country clergyman and his flock before the farm-labourer was taught to look upon the squire and the parson as his natural enemies and oppressors. We do not believe, in spite of the exertions of their new friends, that even now villagers thoroughly entertain this belief, for there are, happily, among us far too many men of Dean Hole's stamp to suffer that fiction to be very long-lived. On the subject of the ingratitude which has been charged against the poor, he waxes very indignant. They are not ungrateful, he says, though their gratitude often lacks a mode of expression, or is expressed after a somewhat doubtful manner. Two instances of the grateful parishioner we cannot refrain from quoting. One happened to a friend of the Dean, who was located in Lancashire among the miners :—

" He was in/his study on a Saturday night, when a visitor was announced, and there entered one of his subterranean parishioners, who, having cautiously looked round to see that there were no listeners, addressed his clergyman with an air of grave, mysterious importance. Mester Whitworth, you've been very kind to my onld girl, when she wor sick so long abed, and I want to do yer a good turn, and I can do yer a good turn. There's going to be the gradeliest dog-fight in this place to-morrow, and I can get yer into the inner ring !'" The other expression of gratitude—though, by-the-way, it was not of gratitude to the clergyman himself—was made to another friend who had a living in Worcestershire. After an absence,- " He was visiting his parishioners, when one of them, an old woman, informed him that since they met she'd gone through a sight o' trouble. Her sister was dead, and there wor a worse job than that ; the pig died all of a sudden, but it pleased the Lord to tak' him, and they mun bow, they mun bow.' Then the poor old lady brightened up, and said, But there's one thing, Mester Allen, as I can say, and ought to say the Lord's been pretty well on my side this winter for greens !' "

And the Dean pleasantly contrasts the old lady's unaffected piety with the spurious professions of religion and charity made by a malicious old parishioner of his own, who was always quarrelling with her neighbours and ostentatiously forgiving them. " She came to me one morning," he writes, " and said : 'Mister Rennuds, I've got another lift towards 'eaven. Willises ' (who lived next door) has been telling more lies—blessed are the persecuted.' " All the Dean's memories of rural life are excellent reading, and give us an interesting and valuable picture of a state of things which seems to be slowly passing away. Of the change which has taken place in the Church itself, he speaks, of course, with glad approval. Here is a sketch of the Sunday of his childhood :-

" Our curate, who lived five miles away, rode over for our dreary service on the Sunday, dined, and we saw him no more during the week. He was much occupied in the pursuit of the fox, which, it is charitable to suppose, he mistook for a wolf, and like a good shepherd was anxious to destroy. The service was literally a duet between the parson and the clerk, except when old John Manners, the bricklayer, gave the keynote for the hymn from his bassoon, a sound which might have been uttered by an elephant in distress, and we sang- ' 0 turn my pi-0 turn my pi-0 turn my pions soul to Thee '— or when the curate suddenly emerged from his surplice, which he placed on the side of his reading-pew, and appearing in his academic gown, went up the three-decker to preach. The altar was represented by a small ricketty deal table, with a scanty covering of faded and patched green baize, on which were placed the overcoat, hat, and riding-whip of the officiating minister, Ste."

Nevertheless, even Dean Hole is sufficiently laudator temporis acti to consider that, in some respects, " a comparison between the past and the present is greatly in favour of the past ; " and his views on that subject are worthy of serious attention. Indeed, there is much in his volume,", notwithstanding its light and cheerful character, that gives cause for reflection ; and the author has something to say upon the grave questions of the day, as well as upon the humours of the cricket-field, and the cultivation of roses, of which he is known to be an enthusiastic amateur.