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time. Her father was the Rev. Philip Chenevix. Both her grandfathers enjoyed Church dignity; the one being Archdeacon Gervais, and the other Bishop of Waterford, formerly Bishop of Killaloe. Her childhood was, for a time, singularly unfortunate; and it is impossible to read without pain the little we are permitted to know of it. Before her fourth birthday she had lost both parents by death, and was taken to reside with her paternal grandfather. The good bishop was venerable, wealthy, generous, and of constant and active piety. He did all in his power for his much-treasured grandchild, but that little was not all of it of the best sort. She passed a time of silent, childlike, and unutterable misery under a new governess and a new nurse, who are thus remembered: A governess whom 'I thought old-I know not her age-with a very long face, a very 'long waist, and a stocking in her hand, which she knitted so perse'veringly it seemed a part of herself, and a determination to rule by rigour, to pass nothing, to correct seldom, but then to do it 'with effect. The fear and distaste I had for her is indescribable. 'It was increased by the arrival of a large, coarse, furious-looking 'maid, who, I understood, was to replace my own Ally, the only ‘remaining creature of the little group, all gentleness and joy, that 'I had been used to love. I shall not dwell on the cruelties I suf'fered, possibly from the best intentions; but they have impressed 'me with a deep horror of unkindness to the young, and of all that 'is fierce or despotic in every shape.' Happily, these surroundings were broken through. The beauty and health which confinement and misery had done their best to destroy, were recovered. Miss Chenevix grew up into every grace and charm which could adorn even her countrywomen, and was an heiress besides. Early in her nineteenth year she was married to Colonel St. George, of Carrickon-Shannon, Ireland, and of Hatley St. George, Cambridgeshire. About a year passed away in a dream of scarcely chequered delight and splendid dissipation. Then came the divine and glorious happiness of maternity. A mere moment of it, said she who best knew, 'would counterbalance the miseries of years. When I looked into 'my boy's face, when I heard him breathe, when I felt the pressure ' of his little fingers, I understood the full force of Voltaire's decla'ration:

""Le chef d'œuvre d'amour est le cœur d'une mère." " Some time after this it appeared that Mr. St. George's health was seriously undermined, and it was hoped that a visit to Portugal might restore it. The hope proved vain, and before she was twoand-twenty the beautiful and happy wife had become a widow. We pass a long space. Mrs. St. George gradually recovered from the awful shock and violence of grief, and some years were passed chiefly in continental travel, but with the occasional change of a visit to Ireland and her tenantry. Both in London and on the Continent Mrs. St. George had the entrée to the best and highest society. Courts and courtiers, and the most distinguished men and women of a most distinguished epoch, were as much known to her as

Mrs. Trench-The Deeper Wrong-A Clerical Meeting. 233

she pleased that they should be. The Duke of Wellington she had already several times counted among her guests at Dangan, but without discovering his genius. Nelson was more known than liked, for he came with the coarse and clever Lady Hamilton, and with toady Cornelia Knight for trumpeter. Mrs. St. George met also the infamous Count Alexis Orloff, and the sublime Klopstock, and dined and danced with all the princes, ministers, and ton then known in Europe. She kept her heart true and free notwithstanding, and after some twelve years of widowhood, accepted the hand of a lately-called barrister, Mr. Richard Trench. The marriage took place at the English Embassy, in Paris, during an interval of peace; but before the honeymoon was well past, war had broken out again, and Buonaparte retaliated some real or imaginary injustice of our Government by detaining as prisoners all the English then in France. Mrs. Trench suffered little besides vexatious inconveniences, and the loss, for nearly four years, of much of her husband's society. Family cares happily engaged her more fully, and after awhile there came liberty and a return to England. Several children were born to Mrs. Trench. Her life grew continuously, it would seem, in moral beauty and religious depth; and when she died, in 1827, she left almost as many lovers and friends as acquaintances, and five sons, who have ceased not to honour her memory and bless her name. She was of honourable descent, of the purest fame, had many accomplishments and much force as well as refinement of mind, and the Dean of Westminster has done what all true sons of other mothers will honour him for-opened to us many scenes from a life so really beautiful and lovely that one cannot dwell on them without obtaining some reflected share of the benefits which were so richly given to himself. We wish we could give adequate specimens of Mrs. Trench's letters and journals. They exhibit herself, and are given without having been first spoiled by the corrections of others.

The Deeper Wrong; or, Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl. Written by HERSELF. Edited by L. MARIA CHILD. London: W. Tweedie. 1862.-The author of this almost incredible story declares that it is no fiction and no exaggeration; and to both the declaration and the story Miss L. Maria Child has given her imprimatur. The story is painful and disgusting; and though there would be much to be said on both sides, especially as two strong-minded women are concerned, we should be inclined to vote that the cause of chastity and purity were more likely to be promoted by the suppression than by the publication of such experiences as those which are here detailed.

Eighteen Years of a Clerical Meeting: being the Minutes of the Alcester Clerical Association, from June, 1842 to August, 1860. With a Preface on the Revival of Ruri-Decanal Chapters. Edited by RICHARD SEYMOUR, M.A., Hon. Canon of Worcester, and JOHN F. MACKARNESS, M.A., now Prebendary of Exeter. London: Rivingtons. 1862. We recommend our ministerial friends to procure this book and read it. It contains a good many things which show the tendencies and opinions of certain influential parties in the English

Church, and clearly and unequivocally exhibits the relations they sustain and will continue to sustain to Dissent and Dissenters. The Editors are of opinion that the revival of Ruri-Decanal Chapters would prove very beneficial to the Establishment in respect both of its influence, and of its pastoral and spiritual efficiency. Their 'Association' was of a purely voluntary kind, and received but scant recognition from their ecclesiastical superiors; yet they and their associates are strongly convinced that, notwithstanding this, its results were of unquestionable and considerable worth. We do not doubt it. We have seen similar associations work equally well among Dissenters, and can but be sorry that they are neither as numerous as they might be, nor so vigorously and conscientiously worked as they invariably ought to be. The subjects discussed by the Alcester Association were of great variety, and would seem to have been treated with vigour and decision. Among them are 'Confirmation;' 'The best Pastoral Training of the Young until the Time of Confirmation;' 'Cele'bration of the Lord's Supper: how often?' 'The Homilies; 'Pastoral Intercourse with Individuals'; 'The Church in Relation to the Political and Social Movements of the Day,' &c., &c. We regret to be unable to make large quotations from the book. Its publication ought to be of real service both to us and to our friends in the Established Church. The tone is unmistakably high.' Cooperation with Dissenters is deemed on every account unadvisable, and to promote 'schism' rather than reunion. We infer from the Minutes for November 3rd, 1856, that, in the opinion of the Alcester Clerical Association, Dissenting ministers are not only not qualified to preach, but that they actually do not preach; a circumstance we commend to their attention. Surely, however, an association which discusses 'Dissent' and 'Schism' manfully and honestly, might as well have avoided anything which leaves it here in a dilemma between what is assuredly either puerile or senile.

The Story of Lord Bacon's Life. By W. HEPWORTH DIXON, Barrister-at-Law. With Portrait and Vignette. London: John Murray. 1862.-About a year ago Mr. Dixon published an Essay on the 'Personal History of Lord Bacon,' which quickly ran through a second edition without allowing him any opportunity of improving or enlarging the first. It was reprinted in Boston and in Leipsic, and proposals were quickly made for its translation into French, into German, and Italian. Meanwhile, new and rich materials had already fallen into the author's hands, and he therefore sacrificed the ease and advantages of allowing the third edition to follow the exhaustion of the second, and gave himself to the task of preparing a substantially new work. He has accomplished it in a manner that must ever redound to his honour. It is no secret that Mr. Dixon has long felt the grossness of the injustice under which Bacon's memory has lain ever since the publication of the most brilliant, the most erudite and really splendid of all Lord Macaulay's essays in the Edinburgh Review. Perhaps no piece of recent argumentative

Mr. Dixon's Lord Bacon-Lessons of my Farm-Ludlow. 235

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writing has had a wider celebrity or a more marked success. The fullest and most masterly appreciation of the 'New Philosophy' was accompanied by an equally masterly, and apparently unanswerable and irreversible, condemnation of the man to whom we indebted for it. The falsest of all Pope's falsehoods was elaborated into a magnificent philippic that seemed as impartial and irrefragable as one of Sir William Hale's judgments, and it was generally agreed that Bacon was, after all

The wisest, brightest, meanest of mankind.'

That judgment has been effectually appealed against, and the argument on which it was based is now, as we both hope and think, for ever answered. To those of our readers who have not the good fortune to know Mr. Dixon's 'Story,' we have very much pleasure in commending it. Full of animation, of most pleasant and attractive reading, of well-ascertained facts and veracious narrative, we derive from it sincere satisfaction. Every true man's heart will rejoice that Bacon should at length have found an advocate who, though less eloquent and terrible than his accuser, has, at any rate, succeeded in defending his cause.

'The Story' has been divided by Mr. Dixon into sixteen chapters; and though the whole work is essentially an argument, there is not one of our readers who will not find it abundant in interest and fully to repay his perusal.

The Lessons of my Farm: a Book for Amateur Agriculturists. By ROBERT SCOTT BURN, one of the Authors of the Book of Farm Buildings,' &c. London: Lockwood & Co. 1862.-Mr. Scott Burn is one of the best and most satisfactory writers upon agricultural matters with whose books we have made acquaintance. With much genuine enthusiasm he combines a capacity for compound addition and the multiplication table. He admits the very important truth that toys cost money, and that not even the most delightful and healthful of hobbies will always pay its own expenses. We very much agree with him. There are few pleasures comparable to those he has here described. A half dozen or fewer acres round his house have been to many a man a daily reinvigoration and renewing; a reminder of things real; a communion with nature at no great remove from communion with God. For reasons such as these we heartily back the suggestion of Mr. Scott Burn, that a little amateur farming, wisely and vigorously prosecuted, is well worth the few extra pounds it costs. His book contains the clearest and most methodical directions and descriptions; and if less fascinating than Miss Martineau, and not quite so sanguine as the lady with those celebrated 'Four Acres,' he may not improbably be found quite as reliable a teacher and quite as true a friend.

A Sketch of the History of the United States from Independence to Secession. By J. M. LUDLOW, Author of 'British India,' &c. To which is added, The Struggle for Kansas. By THOMAS HUGHES, Author of Tom Brown's School Days,' &c. Cambridge: Macmillan

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& Co. 1862.-Among many men professing such things, commend us for frankness, manly honesty, and outspokenness, to Messrs. Ludlow and Hughes. Both address us from one standpoint, and take very good care we shall not be in danger of overlooking its whereabouts. They are strongly Northern, and write accordingly. Mr. Ludlow offers, en passant, a strong, brief criticism on Mr. Spence, and has presented us with the best sketch known to us of the history of the late United States. Mr. Hughes seems to think we cannot possibly be friendly to the South without being also friendly to slavery; and if he is right we are wrong. Southern declarations on the perpetuity of their most hateful institution count with us just now for infinitely little worth.

Agnes of Sorrento. By HARRIET BEECHER STOWE, Author of 'Uncle Tom's Cabin,' &c. London: Smith, Elder, & Co. 1862.If Mrs. Stowe had not had the misfortune to achieve a success which it is impossible should be equalled, Agnes of Sorrento would be pronounced a remarkable work, full of depth of passion, of noble imagination, and of most delicate, striking, and analytic reflection. Some of the characters are more perfectly drawn than others; not, however, because they occupy more space, but because they have been more truthfully and vividly conceived. There is perhaps too much the dash of the New England aunt in Elsie, and some will doubt whether the beautiful Agnes be possible anywhere but in poetry. The pervading tone of exalted spirituality, in the highest sense of that word, we admire, and have derived good from it.

Abel Drake's Wife. A Novel. By JOHN SAUNDERS, Author of 'The Shadow in the House,' &c. London: Lockwood & Co. 1862.— Abel Drake's Wife is a novel of unmistakable power. The story being neither long nor complicated, it would not be difficult to present an outline of it; but it will be fairer, in this case, to refer our readers to the author himself. His work contains some noble passages and some truly touching scenes. There are all the evidences of deep feeling, strong imagination, and cultivated power. A very few of the incidents are ill-managed perhaps, and weak, forced, unnatural, theatrical; as, for example, the convenient and sudden departure of Captain Woolcombe for the Crimea. The author omits, toointentionally, perhaps to do anything like justice to dear old Isaac Sleigh. He is not altogether au fait with the dialect either, and has produced occasionally what we may say, without excessive confidence, is neither genuine Yorkshire nor genuine Lancashire, but some sort of cross. These, however, are of inferior consequence to some other things in which Mr. Saunders has effected what leaves nothing to be desired.

Number One; or, The Way of the World. By FRANK FOSTER. London: Simpkin, Marshall, & Co. 1862.-One cannot well read this author's preface without becoming somewhat doubtful and prejudiced with regard to his book, nor read his book without coming to the conclusion that the preface is the least pleasing part of it. According to his own account, he is the son of a person of

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