BOOKS.

REALMAH.*

Iv Mr. Helps in writing Realmah had purposed to show how much thought, wit, fancy, acute observation, genuine imagination, con- structive power, and beauty of style could be bestowed on the making of a very dull novel, he could not have been more success- ful than he has been. Not that the book as a whole is dull, or the story of Realmah in itself incapable of interesting the reader. But with all his experience as a writer, Mr. Helps has fallen into the every-day error of the young painter, who bestows the most care- ful study on the elaboration of the accessories of his picture, and is astonished to find that the more perfect he renders the imitation of the velvet and of the satin, the woodwork and the ironwork, the flowers in the vase and the dog's shaggy coat, the more wooden and lifeless do the faces and even the hands of his personages become ; whilst by the side of all his painful handy- work, some sketch by a master in which only a head is dashed iu and a form indicated amidst draperies of uudistinguishable tex- ture, and the mere ghosts of accessory shapes, stands out instinct with life. The fact is that, by too careful imitation of the easily imitable, he has himself killed the truth of that which was diffi- cult to render. And so Mr. Helps, by the intense life which he has thrown into his " Friends in Council," as they meet day after day to bear the story of Realmah, has utterly destroyed the readableness of the story itself, which, just because it was so shadowy, visionary in its nature, glimpses of a life in far-off ages, under conditions of which we can only dimly see a few, had most to fear from the neighbourhood of con- temporary reality. It might be that, entirely dissociated from all connection with the " Friends," this dream of society in a pre- historic lake-city might have its interest for the reader. As it is, every touch which is meant to make it more real has precisely the reverse effect. If we ever could suppose for an instant that the imaginary language of the imaginary Sheviri contained couplets like

Meliah, Paraiah, amadala parco, Insaimah dovceno, corona Haura3,"

it would be impossible to do so within eight pages' distance of Sir John Ellesmere. It is he and his which forcibly reduce the politic Realmah and his three wives, the brave Athlah and his other counsellors, to the mere squeaking puppets of a showman, draped in remnants, crowned with gilt paper, and armed with stripes of pewter. Criticism on the story itself would therefore be thrown away, even when its meaning is most transparent in the present- ment of real fact sor personages, or the suggestion of ideas to be realized ; as when the trusty Lendardo in a divided council, like Lord Melbourne with his Cabinet, is represented as putting his back against the door, and declaring that none shall pass through till all be of one mind ; or when the giving-up of imperial outposts (Malta, Gibraltar, &c.) is urged under the mask of the voluntary razing of a Sheviri fortress.

The reality of the book, then, lies in the Friends, and they never were pleasanter ; whilst they have all added to their various qualities one common virtue, for which the reader will not quarrel with them, however painful be may find it to follow their example, to wit, the patience of listening to 36 chapters after the first of the story of Reohnoh. As, however, it is never fair to assume the reader's acquaintance with the previous works of an author, and as some new Friends are introduced in the present one, it is right to say that the company consists of, first, Mr. Milverton, a " well-

• Realnuth. By the Author of Friend' in Council. 2 vols. London: Macmillan and Co. 1563.

known political person," author of the " Story," and his wife, the two being host and hostess to the party at Worth-Aston; his private secretary, Alexander Johnson, yclept Sandy, scribe and reporter of both story and conversations (the least life-like personage in the circle, and who actuallly calls Milverton "my master "); Sir John Ellesmere, ex-Attorney-General, and kis wife ; Sir Arthur Godol- phin," described at first as a great politician, but who comes out rather in the literary line ; a Mr. Maulevercr, great on cookery and the depravity of human nature ; and Mr. Cranmer, a typical official, full of figures ; besides Fairy, the bull terrier, Sir John's especial friend, declared by all the men to be a beauty and by all the ladies to be hideous.

Sir John Ellesmere is the true hero of the book ; and in fact its pith and marrow might in great measure be obtained by extracting the "Ellesmeriana " out of it. Never was a bit of literary satire more exquisite than the following on " the Indispensables " in a novel, the humour of the description being enhanced by its being addressed to the official, Crammer, who does not "care much for fiction," and prefers " a blue-book to any novel," and addressed

to him as " The Villain :—

" I will be the Indispensable. Now, try and got rid of me if you can.

"You stab me to the heart and leave me on the ground. I assure you it is of no use. An Indispensable's heart is quite differently placed from that of any other man. The desperate wound you gave me was in fact the best surgical treatment that could be devised for a-slight internal com- plaint which I labour under, and you will find me as lively as ever in the third volume, and ready to unmask your wicked designs. Or it is a dark, gusty night. We two aro walking the deck alone. You politely edge me over the side of the vessel, and go to sleep in your hammock, feeling that you have done a good stroke of business. What do I do ? The ship is only going nineteen knots an hour. I therefore easily swim to her, and secrete myself in the stays, or the main chains, or the shrouds, or the dead lights, or some of those mysterious places in a ship which Sir Arthur knows all about. There I stick like a barnacle, and you carry me into port with you. I can tell you that when you are just about to make a most advantageous marriage, I shall put my head in the church door, and say 'Ha!' with a loud voice, and the whole affair will be broken off. Or you poison me. Bless your heart, poison has no more effect upon my mithridatic constitution than ginger-beer, probably not so much. You bury me. No, you don't. You don't bury me, but some intrusive fellow who has thrust himself in to take my place,—for an Indispensable has always about him obliging persons who do that kind of work for him. Or you burl me down from a cliff, 300 feet high, and go away thinking you have now really got rid of me for good and all. But, Mr. Villain, you are much mistaken. I, as an Indispensable, inevit- ably fall upon a sea-anemone, rather a large one, throe feet square and two feet thick, very common, however, on that part of the coast. The poor anemone is somewhat injured, and I am a little shaken, but I shall appear again at the right time, with my fatal Ha!' and upset your marriage."

The thought of this passage is one which might just as well have occurred to a Dickens or a Thackeray. But how differently it would have been treated by either. Dickens would have driven it at once to the utmost limits of farcical absurdity, so as to make of it mere scene-painting in words, flaring colours laid on in great dabs and dashes, effective at any distance. Thackeray, too, would have broadened the humour, but beneath its surface he would have given us glimpses of many a changing under-current of human feeling,—now making us indignant at the sham practised upon us, then again compassionate for the poor wretch who had to earn his bread by it, then half amused with, half envious of, the simple souls who are taken in by it, and then pro- bably turning round that inexorable searching bull's-eye of his upon our very hearts and consciences, asking us whether the sham is such a sham, after all? Whether each one of us has not some "Indispensable" in his life that never dies, and is sure to reappear with a mocking " Ha!" at the very moment when we fancy the goal is reached, the prize won at last ?

Mr. Helps, on the other hand, keeps his whole thought within bounds. His "Indispensable" is farcical, but never broadly enough to offend the most fastidious taste ; and above all, he never for one moment makes us feel uncomfortable, as Thackeray's would most assuredly have done. "Ne quid nimis " seems, indeed, in point of style and thought to be his never for- gotten motto. His mind is a typical Whig mind, painfully anxious to be fair, impartial, judicious ; one of those minds that are so bent on seeing both sides of a thing that they may often forget to look it straight in the face ; which in a Greek vase would observe chiefly the handles, and in a great deed done or to be done would be chiefly concerned with the manner of doing it. Add to this a marvellous power of cutting thought and style into facets, so as to make even the bit of glass sparkle like a gem,—though many a real gem is to be found studding his pages,—and you have some of the leading elements of a very peculiar literary personality, which, without leaving its stamp upon the time, will yet outlive it, and retain an interest for curious readers in after ages. In one respect, indeed, Mr. Helps's place in the literary history of his country is an important one. No dramatist, no writer reproduces so perfectly as Mr. Helps in the conversation of his Friends the tone of the most cultivated English society of the day ; somewhat over-refined, somewhat over-brilliant, some- what studied in its ease, somewhat pretentious in its carelessness, with many little boldneases, and now and then a great one, safe, because impossible ; with much good feeling, but small hunger after the right ; with not a little discomfort about social evils, but no thorough-going will to reform them; and finding, perhaps, the best remedy against sorrow in the apt choice of words to express it.

Yet, when the worst is said, the sharpest critic must agree with " Sandy " that " it is impossible not to love this man, Sir John Ellesmere He has a look of kindness and affection, when he is teasing Milverton, that wins my heart. And that wife of his is so fond of him—it almost makes one cross to see it." (Sandy has, of course, been crossed in love.) When we have done justice to all the Friends, we still feel that Sir John is amongst them as a Jupiter amongst his satellites. Nor can we help partaking somewhat of Lady Ellesmere's uncomfortable feeling, when reading his epitaph, even though composed by himself since the very thought of losing him goes to one's heart. But we have reason to believe that out of consideration to Milverton, the last few lines of this most truthful composition were suppressed by the author. We therefore venture to communicate the full text to the reader, with the restored lines in italics :—

" He was a sound lawyer ;

And by a peculiar felicity Not uncommon to great advocates, The side on which ho argued Happened always to be The side of justice and of truth.

He never beat his wife, the' she was often Very provoking.

He was an endurable friend, And in a dull country house Was worth a deal of money As a guest.

He was a good master to his dogs, A persevering fisherman, A powerful singer, And when he borrowed books, he always Took care to return them.

The grand maxim NEVER MIND THE OUTSIDE., Which has improved the art of Printing Throughout the world And which has tended to dignify and purify All other departments in human life Was his'n.

Finally, He heard the whole Of the Story of Realmah, And in full health and spirits, Long survived the trial, A blessing to mankind."