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[Sept. when it is suddenly plunged into the bitter | The paper is allowed to dry in the dark, and it is misanthropy of the English, or the dreamy fit for use; it can be preserved in a portfolio, and mysticism of the Gernians?' It may indeed at any time employed in the camera. This paper be a moment for a fashion to make itself is a pure white, and it retains its color, which is a dreamy and melancholy; but this will never great advantage. At present, I find it necessary be more than an affectation. It is in vain that to expose this prepared paper in the camera ob. it would fill the eyes with tears, the breast scura for periods varying with the quantity of with sobs; it is in vain that it wears long hair from some results which I have obtained, I am
sunshine, from two to eight minutes, although, and a pale face; all that is but for the theatre satisfied that, by a nice adjustment of the proporand a few boudoirs. But the French esprit tions of the materials, a much shorter exposure pierces through all their grimaces of sadness: will suffice. When the paper is removed from I feel that the weepers only repeat a lesson the camera, no trace of a picture is visible. We they have learned; there is in their very have then to mix together one drachm of a sagroans irony, which is far from being bitter. turated solution of sulphate of iron, and two or
“One more remark. The corruption of the three drachms of mucilage of gum arabic. A wide intelligence has not always the bad effects flat brush saturated with this solution is now which one might dread: thanks to the incon- swept over the face of the paper rapidly and sequence of man, he acts better than he thinks evenly. In a few seconds the dormant images or speaks. We must not, however, delude are seen to develope themselves, and with great ourselves as to the immorality of literature. rapidity a pleasing negatite photographic picture The bravado of vice is often innocent for the is produced. The iron solution is to be washed boaster, but pernicious to his neighbors. It
off as soon as the best effect appears, this being hurts by example. By degrees the good sen- drawing is then soaked for a short time in water,
done with a soft sponge and clean water. The timents become altered on continually hearing and may be permanently fixed, by being washed the bad ones lauded; aad it is too great a
over with ammonia-or perhaps better, with a sotemptation lo human weakness to always af- lution of the hyposulphite of soda, care being ford it an excuse--what do I say! an eulogium taken that the salt is afterwards well washed out for every fault."
of the paper. From the pictures thus produced, any number of others correct in position, and in light and shadow, may be produced, by using the same succinated papers in the ordinary way; from five to ten minutes in sunshine producing the desired effect.
The advantages which this process possesses over every other, must be, I think, apparent. The papers are prepared in the most simple man. ner, and may be kept ready by the tourist until required for use : they require no preparation
previously to their being placed in the camera, ENERGIATYPE, A New PHOTOGRAPHIC Pro- and they can be preserved until a convenient op CESS.- While pursuing some investigations, with portunity offers for bringing out the picture, which a view to determine the influence of the solar is done in the most simple manner, with a materays upon precipitation, I have been led to the rial which can be any where procured. discovery of a new photographic agent which can Anxious to give the public the advantage of be employed in the preparation of paper, with a this process during the beautiful weather of the facility which no other sensitive process possess present season, I have not waited to perfect the es. Being desirous of affording all the informa- manipulatory details which are necessary for the tion I possibly can to those who are anxious to production of portraits. It is sufficient, however, avail themselves of the advantages offered by to say, that experiment has satisfied me of its apPhotography, I solicit a little space in your co}- plicability for ihis purpose. umns for the purpose of publishing the particu Prismatic examination has proved that the rays lars of this new process. All the photographic effecting this chemical change are those which I processes with which we are at present acquaint. bave elsewhere shown to be perfectly independ. ed, sufficiently sensitive for the fixation of the ent of solar light or heat. I therefore propose to images of the camera obscura, require the most distinguish this process by a name which has a careful and precise manipulation ; consequently, general rather than a particular application. Rethose who are not accustomeå to the niceties of garding all photographic phenomena as due to experimental pursuits, are frequently annoyed by the principal ENERGIA, I would nevertheless wish failures. The following statement will at once to distinguish this very interesting process as the show the exceeding simplicity of the new dis- ENERGIATYPE. covery:
I enclose you a few specimens of the results alGood letter-paper is first washed over with the ready obtained. The exceeding sensibility of the following solution.
Energiatype is best shown by an attempt to copy
engravings or leaves by it. The three specimens A saturated solution of succinic acid 2 drachm. I enclose were produced by an exposure of con Mucilage of gum arabic
siderably less than one second.
I am, &c., When the paper is dry, it is washed over once with
ROBERT HUNT. an argentine solution, consisting of one drachm Falmouth, May 27, 1844. of nitrate of silver to one ounce of distilled water.
CONINGSBY; OR, THE NEW GENERATION. | member for one of his own boroughs, a
cleverish speaker, and a writer of“ slashing From the New Monthly Magazine.
articles” in the Quarterly. Next to RigConingsby; or, the New Generation.
by in the confidence of this virtuous nobleB. D'Israeli, M. P. 3 vols.
man, is one Villebecque, a sort of Swiss
valet, who renders himself so useful to his We were fairly startled amidst the monot-master, that he at last takes the foot of his onous routine of conventional Fiction, by the table, when his lordship entertains French appearance of this remarkable work. It is actresses and bon vivants. This group is admirable in many points of view—for the perfect in its kind, and fits closely in every fulness of its lore--for its profound develop-articulation to that gross and sensual régime ment of our social system—the richness of its which was broken up but a few years since, illustrations, drawn from far-scattered lands and which still quivers with life in its fragand literatures—its beauty and high finishments. as a work of art. But it is in none of these Coningsby is an orphan, dependent on aspects it will most surprise the reader. It this heartless, sagacious grandfather. He is is something more than a novel-wider in sent to Eton, and from Eton to Cambridgereach, more serious in aim, and, above all, Lord Monmouth keeping him in reserve subtler in spirit. It is the confession of for the moment when he may be useful to Faith of Young England. The shape of this him in his political schemes. In the Confession harmonizes felicitously with the mean while the Reform Bill is passing, and elements of which it is composed—a pas- the clouds are clearing off men's minds on sionate romance reared on a philosophical a variety of subjects hitherto seen only basis.
through a mist; and young men at Eton The thought of putting the political and Cambridge, bred in the Conservative creed of the Young Blood of England into interest, are beginning to rub their eyes, the disguise of a story, which should at the and wonder what has become of the ansame time lay bare the vices of the creed of cient immutability of Toryism. They see the Old Blood, was a happy one. Ab- the Conservatives giving way before the stract principles and formulæ of all kinds pressure of a popular demand, and then, have had their day. People want to see having conceded all that was demanded, or theories put into action-dramatized—be won, stamping bravely, and throwing themfore they will listen to them. The same selves into an attitude, exclaiming, “We amount of intellect—and it is great—which are Conservatives!" The young men at has been bestowed on the volumes before Eton, perplexed and disappointed, raise us, would have been absolutely wasted on a their eyes, and ask, “What is it you congrave declaration of opinions. But these serve? This question-thus springing volumes will be read every where, and the up amongst the youth of Eton, and exopinions they contain will be diffused panding itself in maturer years into an through every point of the compass. Even elaborate catechism—is the key to the where they fail to hit, or where they are whole work. The disciples of Young indignantly rejected, they will still make a England visibly, openly, manfully, separate disturbance of certain fixed ideas. The themselves from the Conservative party, beslightest shock imparted to the old system cause it is a Profession without a Faith is a clear gain to the new.
The impossibility of the Conservative party The actual plot of Coningsby, apart from consists in the impossibility of answering this the episodical incidents which cluster question-"What do you propose to conround its progress, is exceedingly simple. serve ?" This question thus put to the The interest springs rather from the truth- country, will vibrate to its core. And the fulness than the variety or novelty of the answer from hill and valley, from borough details—all of which lie within our daily and city, from riding and shire, will beexperience. Coningsby is the grandson of Nothing! The distinct charge is, that the Lord Monmouth, à nobleman of great Conservative party have no principles. wealth, voluptuous habits, and considerable These considerations sink deeply into political influence. Lord Monmouth—a the minds of Coningsby and a few more genuine Tory of the very old school-lives earnest spirits, Henry Sydney, the son of a constantly out of England, leaving his par-duke, Oswald Millbank, the son of a Lanliamentary and private affairs in the hands cashire manufacturer, and others—all porof his creature, Mr. Rigby, a crafty partisan, | traits, and representatives of classes. They
become satisfied of the importance of mea-| by Edith's father, after she has “ told her
borough lying in the very lap of Lord MonThe course of inquiry and independence mouth's property. At the last election he thus marked out, carries us into an exten- beat Rigby, Lord Monmouth's nominee. sive field of observation. Coningsby's so- This was one of the causes of his lordship's cial education is admirably calculated to hatred of him. A new election is now prepare him for the gradual formation of a likely to take place. The whig ministry political creed. He visits the great manu- have resolved on a dissolution, although facturing districts, where the power and in- they command a majority-a shaking one telligence of the productive order are for to be sure in the house. In the interval the the first time practically expounded to him. Tories have worked at the “registration,” The next phase of his experience is at and hug themselves in a sort of wild deBeaumanoir, the princely mansion of the lirious hope that they may yet carry the Sydneys. Here he sees the aristocracy in day. Lord Monmouth sends for Coningsits most refined and captivating aspect- by, desires him to go down instantly to large intellect, dignified ambition, repose, Darlford, that every thing is prepared for charity, grace, beauty. But this is the fa- his reception, to spare no expense, that the vorable side of the picture; the magnifi- finest jockeying will be necessary, and not cent castle of Lord Monmouth presents the to give a point. Never was conservative
Here is a prodigal expenditure skill so skilfully displayed, as in these upon troops of foreigners, diplomatists, brief, rapid, but pregnant instructions. princesses, dancers, and singers - confusion, riot, grandeur, pomp without order,
All I want now is to see you in Parliament. luxury without taste, passion without love. is a sort of stiffness about erery man, no matter
A man should he in Parliament early. There The soul of Coningsby quickens through what may be his talents, who enters Parliament these experiences, and the plot of the new late in life; and now, fortunately, the occasion party which is to vindicate the destinies of offers. You will go down on Friday; feed the England, to purge it of its sensualities, and notabilities well; speak out; praise Peel; achieve its freedom upon intelligible prin- abuse O'Connell and the ladies of the bed
chamber; anathematize all waverers ; say a ciples, ripens in his brain. Paris is visited next, and a new world good deal about Ireland; stick to the Irish
Registration Bill—that's a good card; and opens upon the dreamer-new manners, above all, my dear Harry, don't spare that felnew notions of society,—he is nearer than low, Millbank. ever to the solution of the great problem. But something is wanted to supply this The profound sagacity of these hints restless spirit with a motive. There must makes less impression upon Coningsby than be something to love--if all the political their total freedom from all responsibility in constitutions in the world were to crumble the way of principle. Then—to oppose to their base. And Coningsby loves with Milbank, the father of Edith! Young love, all the fervor and poetry of his youth. The as well as Young England, revolts at so object of his devotion is Edith Millbank, monstrous a proposition: he can neither the sister of his Eton friend, the daughter oppose the father of her he loves, nor of Lord Monmouth's great political and pledge himself to a party he despises.' Copersonal enemy.
Here is a dilemma for ningsby declines to accede to his lordship's love to start upon his course with. But it wishes, temperately and even argumentais a fitting thing that love should have such tively, but with firmness. From this ma dilemmas to work through; and especially ment his doom is sealed. But it is a saluin this case, where it helps the hero to test tary trial that sets the seal of purity on our the sincerity of his principles by a grand faith, whatever it be! martyrdom. Passing over the minor inci
The sequel may be briefly dismissed. dents which impede his progress--the sup. After a time Lord Monmouth dies. Every posed rivalry of Sidonia, the great financier body expects that Coningsby will be his of the age, a character drawn with extra. heir; but to every body's amazement large ordinary power—the prohibition of his suit | sums are left to Rigby and Villebecque,
and the residue of the immense fortune to names of living statesmen, as influencing an illegitimate daughter, who has hitherto the political circumstances through which passed as the child of Villebecque. Co- the fictitious characters move, will call forth ningsby is pennyless, subsisting on the in- discreet astonishment in some quarters. terest of a paltry ten thousand pounds. To people of a certain quality of imaginaBut his spirit is strong, and he resolves to tion, a work of fiction must be a work of go to the bar. He carries out this resolu- fic on-out and out. They will have it tion valiantly; and while he is still plod- speak by the card, and cannot understand ding on at a special pleader's in the temple, it otherwise. There were people who he discovers one day that he has been put never could recognize Mr. Kemble out of into nomination for Darlford by old Mr. black. But works of this calibre are not Millbank, who is about to retire from the written to square with sipall canons, or to representation. The next morning he is drop all at once into the open mouth of whirled down, beats Rigby hollow, and is popular credulity. They step out of the chaired through the borough to the delight iraditional track, and set up their own of all parties. This is the moral of the standards. The objection we have anticibook. At the opening, Rigby, the genius pated seems to lus to indicate the distincof electioneering politics, and of the old tive and most impressive merit of “CoTory rotten-borough hocus-pocus system, ningsby.” It is emphatically a novel of our is in the ascendant, and Coningsby a boy, own times of our own day—of the great trembling under his keen eyes and vulgar political cycle, beginning with the Reform effrontery. In the end, this boy, profiting Bill, and ending, as far as we can see at by these despicable examples, and seeing present, with Young England. How many how little reliance is to be placed upon the novels are there full of wit, and gayety, frauds of party, and how much upon truth, and knowledge of the world, and of our knowledge, and intelligence, rejects every English society in particular, the scenes of attempt to corrupt him as he advances, which are laid under our eyes in Arlingdares to think and reason for himself, and ton-street and St. James's Square-yet finally defeats this very Rigby, the grisly which might be put back half a century, champion of bigotry and intolerance, upon without the slightest risk of an anachrohis own ground, and with his own cheval de nism of costume. Now there is no mistakbataille. It is the first manifestation of ing “ Coningsby.” The life of its century Young England—its first fair stand-up fight is breathed into it. You feel in its scenes with Old Corruption-its first victory, the the strong palpitation of movements which herald of endless triumphs over Falsehood have not yet fulfilled their mission—the and Hypocrisy:
tone of the people is that of our actual exThe issue of the love story is not so satis- perience—it is every where colored by exfactory. Coningsby and Edith are mar- isting influences, rife with matter pertinent ried of course; but as Coningsby has no to the time, and animated by a spirit of fortune, Millbank is obliged to provide him prophecy which takes its stand upon the with one.
The feeling is not agreeable ; present hour. To the future explorer of but fortunately the obligation does not our institutions, who desires to investigate last long. Lord Monmouth's daughter the real condition of the highest circles of dies, and bequeaths to Coningsby the for- society during the volcanic period compretune she had so innocently intercepted; hended within the compass of “Coningsleaving the happy young couple standing on by,” we know no book-certainly no histhe threshold of that public life, through torical book-in which that strange history which, it is to be hoped, they will conduct will be found depicted with such picturthemselves with purity and honor. esque fidelity, vigor, and fearlessness.
We suppose some objection will be taken It teems with characters, drawn by the to this work on account of its strong char- hand of a great master : some of them palacterization of men and parties–Rigby, pable likenesses to living men, but all idealMonmouth, Lucian Gay, 'Henry Sidney, ized into representative spirits of the time. Buckhurst, Millbank, Sidonia, Tadpole, Monmouth, profligate and mean, sumptuand Taper, the electioneering agents, ladies ous in his pleasures, cowardly in his selfof ton, fashionable and political cliques, and ishness, heartless in his resentments; Rigthose groups of unmistakable individuals by, cool, cringing, base, clever, and audawho flutter with such airy reality round its cious; Sidonia, the marvel of all the courts
The introduction of the of Europe, familiar with their languages,
histories, and wants, and embracing in the which, in point of variety, fancy, and fashion, wide range of his intellectual acquisitions never was surpassed. Morning and evening, the policies, sciences, and philosophies of every day, a new dress equally striking; and the ancient and the modern world; Mill- a riding habit that was the talk and wonder o: bank, judicious, earnest, blunt, and honest ; the ladies never noticed her, or only stared at
* At first Henry Sydney, the enthusiast who would her over their shoulders ; every where soundregenerate the "peasantry," and restore ed, in suppressed whispers, the fatal question, England to her halcyon feudality;--these, “ Who is she ?" After dinner they always and many more who stand out prominently, formed into polite groups, from which Mrs. will be recognized at once by the reader, Guy Flouncey was invariably excluded. * who will require no hint to guide him to It was indeed rather difficult work the first
few days for Mrs. Guy Flouncey, especially what is meant by, them. But nestling in immediately after dinner. It is not soothing obscure places and shadowy corners are to one's seli-love sitting alone, pretending to touches of character no less valuable as il- look at prints in a fine drawing-room full of lustrative memoranda of the age. We have fine people, who don't speak to you. noted numerous scraps of this kind. The sketch of Mr. Jawster Sharp, who, under But Mrs. Guy was not to be put out. the Reform Bill, represented one of the She was sure of an ally the moment the new boroughs, is the natural history of a gentlemen appeared. She went on inventgenius spawned within the last fifteen ing a thousand things for the amusement years.
of the guests. The borough was a manufacturing town, Ir a coupiry house the suggestive mind is and returning only one member; it had hith- inestimable. Some how or other, before a erto sent up to Westminster a radical shop-week was past, Mrs. Guy Flouncey seemed the keeper, one Mr. Jawster Sharp, who had tak- soul of every thing, was always surrounded by en what is called a " leading part” in the town a cluster of admirers, and with what are callon every
“crisis” that had occurred since ed “the best men,” ever ready to fall at her 1830; one of those zealous patriots who had feet. The fine ladies found it absolutely neset up penny subscriptions for gold cups to cessary to thaw; they began to ask her ques. Lord Gray; cries for the bill, the whole bill, tions after dinner. Mrs. Guy Flouncey only and nothing but the bill; and public dinners wanted an opening. She was an adroit flatwhere the victual was devoured before grace terer, with a iemper imperturbable, and gifted was said ; a worthy, who makes speeches, with a ceaseless energy of conferring slight passes resolutions, votes addresses, goes up obligations. She lent them patierns for new with deputations, has at all times the necessa- fashions, in all which mysteries she was very ry quantity of confidence in the necessary indi- versant; and what with some gentle glozing, vidual; confidence in Lord Gray; confidence and some gay gossip, sugar for their tongues in Lord Durham ; confidence in Lord Mel- and salt for their tails, she contrived pretty bourne; and can also, if necessary, give three well to catch them all. cheers for the king, or three groans for the queen.
The more grave women are no less suc
cessfully delineated. Lady Wallinger is a But it is not merely in political sketches bit of true nature; and the Colonnas are Mr. D’Israeli shows his strength. His por- full of force and dark energy. Beauty and traits of mere drawing-room people, distin- spirituality in Mr. D’Israeli's hands beguished from each other by almost imper- come wonderfully luminous and intellectuceptible tints, and expending all their fac-al. Edith is the beauty of one's dreams, ulties upon the finesse of fashionable inter- with a womanly heart capable of great saccourse, are equally shrewd and piquant. rifices and small resentments.
The two Mr. and Mrs. Guy Flouncey, “picked up French actresses at Richmond are like by Lord Monmouth during a Roman win- flashes of sunshine. ter, and now on a visit at his castle, amongst There are descriptive “bits,” too, of a crowd of grand people who do not know great merit. Such for instance, as the inthern, are capital. We must afford the terior at Beaumanoir. reader a few glimpses of the lady through sundry loops in the description.
There was not a country house in England
that had so completely the air of habitual resMrs. Guy Flouncey was very pretty, and idence as Beaumanoir. It is a charming trait, dressed in a style of'ulira fashion. However, and very rare. In many great mansions every she could sing, dance, act, ride, and talk, and thing is as stiff, formal, and tedious, as if all well: and was mistress of the art of flirta- your host were a Spanish grandee in the days tion
She came with a wardrobe 1 of the Inquisition. No ease, no resources;