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Article REVIEWS OF NEW BOOKS , ← Page 2 of 4 →
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Reviews Of New Books ,
"Beyond theBarrier , " whereinthe singular contrast between the suburbs and the city itself is MthMly and vigorously s p icture of Paris festivals on New Year ' s day , and a clever satire upon Paris penny-a-lining ; after which we find ourselves again on the outskirts of the capital ^ safely lodged on the Butte de Chaumont , which Mr . Copping has christened the Cliffs of Belleville . '' Having enjoyed a ramble in this
direction , we are brought back to discuss the merits of the cheap literature of Paris . This is a topic which leaves the faculties a little matter jaded , so we are transported next to the Bois de Boulogne , and lest this should not prove a sufficient restorative v we proceed afterwards on a country ramble to the new village of La Varenne . We are by this time sufficiently fortified for the graver consideration of Paris plays . Then comes a suburban fete . Lastly a chapter on a neglected poet , with which the book . It will
be seen by this that there is sufficient diversity ; and Mr . Copping writes with a pen at once so facile and so eirtertalning that few will take up this little volume without reading to the end . He is evidently fond of country rambles , and the suburts ^ d park of Paris ^ to call forth more of his enthusiasm than tlie cit ^ would smile at the high colouring he gives to the Bois de Boulogne , we cannot s certainly a , Londoner would not treat seriously a rapturous description of
Regent ' s Park , which , perhaps , for its intrinsic beauty will scarcely fall short of its rival . Our author , however , always appears at home in his subject , whatever it is , and , since he is interested himself , he succeeds in interesting his readers ; but we cannot give a better specimen of his style than the fbllovving , from his admirable satire on Paris penny-a-lining .
Under the heading Fails Divers in the Paris journals , he says truly , you find a strange jumble of official facts and unofficial facts ; of home facts and foreign facts ; of old facts and new facts ; of facts of every size , shape , colour and density ; and so rapidly do these run one into the other , that instead of conveying information to the mind ofthe reader , they leave him in a strange state of confusion and bewilderment : —
" You stop exhausted ere you are half way through . You pause to take breath But there is no rest for you . Long before you have recovered yourself , you are compelled as it were , to go on again . You are hurried away , perhaps , on the back of a remarkably fine specimen of the Astracan brebis just arrived at the Jardin des Plantes , and carried by this animal into the flooded fields of the Ardeche , you pass into a new safety steam-boiler of novel construction , which hursts five minutes afterwards , and leaves you high and dry upon the summit of Mont Cenis , where shafts for the Alpine tunnel are being sunk . Descending a little , you find yourself in the midst of the new harbour at Holyhead , and after recognizing General
Walker giving orders for an immediate attack upon Nicaragua , you discover that you are face to face with that gluttonous Saxon ploughman who is consuming a leg of mutton , four kilogrammes of sausages , and a dozen litres of wine for a wager of a pair of sabots . Ere you have recovered from your disgust , you are knocked down by a runaway horse , and' upon rising , find yourself before the Correctional Tribunal of Paris police , upon a charge of robbing a poor old woman of twopence
halfpenny . You leave the court with unstained hands , and find yourself in Smithfield market , where an infamous Englishman is for the hundredth time , selling his wife ; and thence you are immediately blown away by a tremendous hurricane from the north-west , which carries you off to the shores of the Bosphorus , where a heavy meteorological stone , weighing seventy-four pounds eight ounces , falls upon your head , and rubbing your eyes , you recover from the shock , and find
yourself at the end of the Faits Divers . In the chapter on Paris plays Mr . Copping indulges in some salutary reflections on the bad tendency of the compositions produced on the French stage , and he becomes reasonably indignant that these mclo -dramatic eftu-
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Reviews Of New Books ,
"Beyond theBarrier , " whereinthe singular contrast between the suburbs and the city itself is MthMly and vigorously s p icture of Paris festivals on New Year ' s day , and a clever satire upon Paris penny-a-lining ; after which we find ourselves again on the outskirts of the capital ^ safely lodged on the Butte de Chaumont , which Mr . Copping has christened the Cliffs of Belleville . '' Having enjoyed a ramble in this
direction , we are brought back to discuss the merits of the cheap literature of Paris . This is a topic which leaves the faculties a little matter jaded , so we are transported next to the Bois de Boulogne , and lest this should not prove a sufficient restorative v we proceed afterwards on a country ramble to the new village of La Varenne . We are by this time sufficiently fortified for the graver consideration of Paris plays . Then comes a suburban fete . Lastly a chapter on a neglected poet , with which the book . It will
be seen by this that there is sufficient diversity ; and Mr . Copping writes with a pen at once so facile and so eirtertalning that few will take up this little volume without reading to the end . He is evidently fond of country rambles , and the suburts ^ d park of Paris ^ to call forth more of his enthusiasm than tlie cit ^ would smile at the high colouring he gives to the Bois de Boulogne , we cannot s certainly a , Londoner would not treat seriously a rapturous description of
Regent ' s Park , which , perhaps , for its intrinsic beauty will scarcely fall short of its rival . Our author , however , always appears at home in his subject , whatever it is , and , since he is interested himself , he succeeds in interesting his readers ; but we cannot give a better specimen of his style than the fbllovving , from his admirable satire on Paris penny-a-lining .
Under the heading Fails Divers in the Paris journals , he says truly , you find a strange jumble of official facts and unofficial facts ; of home facts and foreign facts ; of old facts and new facts ; of facts of every size , shape , colour and density ; and so rapidly do these run one into the other , that instead of conveying information to the mind ofthe reader , they leave him in a strange state of confusion and bewilderment : —
" You stop exhausted ere you are half way through . You pause to take breath But there is no rest for you . Long before you have recovered yourself , you are compelled as it were , to go on again . You are hurried away , perhaps , on the back of a remarkably fine specimen of the Astracan brebis just arrived at the Jardin des Plantes , and carried by this animal into the flooded fields of the Ardeche , you pass into a new safety steam-boiler of novel construction , which hursts five minutes afterwards , and leaves you high and dry upon the summit of Mont Cenis , where shafts for the Alpine tunnel are being sunk . Descending a little , you find yourself in the midst of the new harbour at Holyhead , and after recognizing General
Walker giving orders for an immediate attack upon Nicaragua , you discover that you are face to face with that gluttonous Saxon ploughman who is consuming a leg of mutton , four kilogrammes of sausages , and a dozen litres of wine for a wager of a pair of sabots . Ere you have recovered from your disgust , you are knocked down by a runaway horse , and' upon rising , find yourself before the Correctional Tribunal of Paris police , upon a charge of robbing a poor old woman of twopence
halfpenny . You leave the court with unstained hands , and find yourself in Smithfield market , where an infamous Englishman is for the hundredth time , selling his wife ; and thence you are immediately blown away by a tremendous hurricane from the north-west , which carries you off to the shores of the Bosphorus , where a heavy meteorological stone , weighing seventy-four pounds eight ounces , falls upon your head , and rubbing your eyes , you recover from the shock , and find
yourself at the end of the Faits Divers . In the chapter on Paris plays Mr . Copping indulges in some salutary reflections on the bad tendency of the compositions produced on the French stage , and he becomes reasonably indignant that these mclo -dramatic eftu-