The Sun.
London, England, 1839-11-01 00:00:00

MA(;AZENE

N BLA CK WO OD'S M-4 GA 2 INE.
i With the single exception of the article oh '" the
1 Present Polition of the Church n Scotland" -
Iwhich, though it may he very profound, is assuredly
a very prosy Traetate—there is not a dull or tedious
Paper in this number. Prose and verse are equally
good. And first of the prose. We have a de-
I lightful criticism on Ossian from the pen of Chris-
topher North, who, we are glad to see, refuses to
I Pre up the old blind bard, though he will not go
Ithe whole hog in his favour. Neither will we givr
him up. Ossian was one of the loves of our un-
hewhiskered boyhood ; and even now, when we
think of his " Songs of Selma," and the solemn
pathos of his " Berrathon," he still holds our
' fancy in thrall. But he is not genuine, we are
told. No matter for that ; he is readable, which
is more than many poets can say for themselves.
Christopher North—by far the most eloquent, dis-
criminating, and when he pleases, most keen-
sighted critic of the day—gives Ossian just as much
praise as is his due ; and thus happily explains the
) Secret of the influence, which he or Macpherson
---no matter which it is—exercises over the feel-
ings of young readers :
" Young hearts, we verily believe, are now a days
the same as young hearts some fifty years ago, and often
weep for Ossian. Not that he is blind, for they know
that the blind may be perfectly happy--but because he
is alone in this world. Throughout all his poetry they
have a dim consciousness of thinking on himself—even
when the song kindles into a brightest flame, they feel
that the singer is sorrowful—the sadness, the humiliation
of the present, hang over the gladness, the glory, of the
past—his life is almost death-like—a shadow on earth
holding converse with shadows in the sky—moving from
grave to grave so like one of themselves, as not to dis-
turb the phantoms sitting there in the moonlight."
The late Mr. Hazlitt, like the present Mr.
North, had a qualified belief in the authenticity of
Ossian's poems. For our own part, we should no
more think of doubtir.g the old bard's existence,
than we should think of doubting the existence of
Christopher North, who, so far from being a mere
phantom, like Horan; the son of Misnar—of whom
we read in Sir Charles Morell's Indian Tales—is,
we all tirnow, a real, bona fide personage, baptized
`• Christopher" at the font, and inheriting the name
of " North" from a long line of illustrious ancestors.
In a late number of Maga, this " old man elo-
quent" hinted that he might possibly give us an-
other " Noctes." We care not how soon he re-
sumes the Chair of that Temperance Society.
The " I•ioctes" were always exceedingly popular,
and we are surprised they have not been col-
lected and republished. " Hermotimus" is a
wild ballad penned in a metre whose novelty is
1
by no means its least recommendation. " Goethe's
Life and Works," is passable. We cannot say
More for it. The " Queer Stick," is a sprightly
Poem, which enforces a valuable domestic moral,--
, viz• never hope to reform your wife through the
agency of a cudgel I This is sound doctrine,
though Parson Trulliber would have demurred to its
orthodoxy ; and so would Judge Buller, wha held
that a good licking had a very dulcifying effect on
a wife s temper. " Ten Thousand a Year," im-
proves on acquaintance. The writer, however,
spins too much, silk-worm fashion. From his
minute and accurate sketch of a well known Chan-
cery barrister, the late Mr. Bell, we suspect that
he is a lawyer. " Cursory Cogitations concerning
Cats"—w hat a fine specimen of "apt alliteration's
artful aid !"—contains several very hutnourous
touches. The author, in mentioning the various
persecutions to which the feline race are subjected,
while he dwells with becoming tenderness on their
being frequently shod with walnut-shells, makes no
411usion to the fact that they often du duty in the
L:multerer's shops as rabbits, and impart its finest
flavour to an Epping or a German sausage. Neither
while speaking of their little weaknesses, such as
uatrurbing folks at night by their amorous cater-
Nlaulinpas, &c., does he state the disparaging fact
that, like old Saturn, she-cats are occasionally,
when provisions run low, in the habit of devouring
their own offspring. Yet this is an undoubted
truth. We have been amused with the archness of
the following sally :—" We, lords of creation,
seldom love cats. Most women do—and no won-
der--both are graceful, and both domestic; not to
toentiran that they both scratch." We quote a
eaktal description of a whole neighbourhood alarmed
bj. the uproar occasioned by half a dozen toms,
who are doing battle with each other on the tiles,
fear the good graces of a coquettish tabby. We
matl sPeak feelingly on this point, for at the very
aoment we write this (twelve o'clock at night)
r, bout twenty—there must at least be twenty—im-
passioned tom cats are holding a " Noctes, right
under our window, compared with whose stunning
Clamor the springing of a dozen watchmen's rattles
,Were but as the soft sighs of a zephyr.—But
nere is the description :
" And now from many an attic window protudeth
pillow a nig,hteapped head, disturbed from its peaceful
Ivy the fury of the strife : and rise to many a
tongue curses ' not loud but deep' upon cats in general,
ikad the unconscious combatants in particular. In vain ;
*--fast and far, along the'echoing roofs,speed to the scene
the partisans of either chief, to mingle in the gathering
74elee- Not otherwise, when, in that classic region
where seven distinct dials proclaim the progress of time,
Same daring youth of Munster, with heart-cutting words,
,Itth aroused the indignation of Connaught's hardy son,
'rorn every quarter of the surrounding territory pour
rorth the children of potatoe-bearing 'erne, rejoicing in
the anticipation of battle, regardless of the cause, in
41 of either disputant ; till, plunged into the thickest
of the fray, and undiscerning friend from foe in the ex-
ce4 of their excitement, they deal forth their blows in-
discriminately on all around them, to the great glory of
the Emerald Isle, and the exceeding terror of the new
llolice. Positively the scene is growing exciting—The
combat deepens! ' on ye brave, who rush to glory or'—
q 11! yonder old gentleman in the attic, provoked be.
Jll forbearance, is growing desperate ; he is about to
trchase a night's quiet at an awful sacrifice of crokery !
kw.e
see him nervously grasping his water-jug in his
uctter hand, evidently balancing in his mind the wrath
rt)ills landlady against his own personal comforts ;—he
,410, yet lingers ;—nnw he raises, as if resolved, the
dreadful missile—and now again imagination conjures
!IP the morning's frowns and chidings, and he wavers
in his bold dt,sign. To the rescue ! ho I. I reiolorce-
tient of no less than three sturdy toms rushing to the
.43' catches his eye—he hesitates no longer—he le.,
urns the death-fraught engine—he whirls it forward—
eh ! a bad shot, but effectual :—crash goes the jug
No the tiles into ten thousand fragments ! bursts forth
sae loud, short, simultaneous screech, followed by a
*Ned as of much spitting—five-and-twenty tails stream
•lit'd whirl aloft for a moment, like meteors, and
" ' Have they melted in earth, or vanished in air ?
1, We see not, we know not,—but nothing is there.'
" go the heads—down go the windows :—one minute
Uit t 0 ' put out the light, and then,'—why, then, we'll for-
re the eat that manages to wake us for the next nine
°ors• that's all."
"Tenants of Holywell Lodge," is a lively story,
With just enouah of mystery to keep up the interes,t,
throughout " The Crowning of Charlemagne,
4 a spirited piece of poetic declamation. Ditto,
-`
Napoleon's Telegraph on Montmartre." " Mur-
met' considered as one of the Fine Arts," is an ex-
' t,'avanganza, irresistible in its drollery. The very
oreath and boldness of its humour disarms oppo-
'ition, though your " good sort of people" may
Perhaps object to it, that a murder is no joke—and
we grant there is some truth in this, especially when
e operation comes to be performed on the ob-
lector himself. The author of this grave ironical
th'aYl after observing—with a fine enthusiasm for
e science of assassination—that " murders have
their little differences and shades of merit, as well
" statues, pictures, &c.," thus lauds his own fine
tense of humanity :_.-
j,,' As to murder, I never committed one in my life.
,:s a well known thing amongst all my friends. I can
jet 4 Paper to certify as much, signed by lots of people.
"e7(l, if you come to that, I doubt whether many
PnP,',e eouldproduce as strong a certificate. Mine
dw;u:l be as big as a table-cloth. There is, in-
he e" one member of the Club, who pretends to say that
s ,e4eght me once making too free with his throat on
-"11)-nigh
t' after every body else had retired. But
ac 71.4 he shuffles in his story, according to his
himself4-f civilation. When not far gone, he contents
laki with saying that he caught me ogling his throat ;
nay , I was melancholy for some weeks after, and that
of sounded in a way expressing, to the nice ear
eitulconnoiseur, the sense o/ opportunities lost—but the
th. i he
know that he's a disappointed man himself, and
of%urne Speaks querulously at times about. the fatal neglect
all than s coming abroad without his tools. Besides,
11147 is an affair between two amateurs, and everybody
such allowances for little asperities and sorenesses in
corre case. ' But,' say you, 'if no murderer, my
i sPondent have encouraged, or even have be-
dpok_ may
the kind,,7zurder.' No, upon my honour—nothing of

BENTLEY'S MISCELLANY.
AQ
we have already noticed ,‘Jack Sheppard" in
IN:published form of three volumes, we need
Z\Zuno mention of the chapters inserted in this
-..uer, further than just to hint that there is

tOo ut considering that they' are
AH before the public in another shape. I! umal
ton's Story," is from the 'pe'ti of Mr. leig.
There is some livniy 'sketching in the tale, which so
far as it !ti's yet proceeded, excites iinuch interest.
We quote the author's description of the titers hnd
drilling of some of our itrfautry tegittotth in the
year preceding the get taollitionary outbreak in
France. Military liied kkili read it with pleasure i—
"How clighrent in all its external feeitires was the
London of 1788 from the London of 1839! How
widely different the corotitliition and management of the
orces vthich thvh Itnd in times more recent composed
its garrison. Of the foot guards, which then, as now,
consisted of three regiments, with two battalions to
each, I need say no more than that they were clothed,
.iccoutred, and armed, pretty much as they had been
since the days of the Duke of Cumberland. We wore
long-tailed coats, which, slanting off like those of livery-
servants in front, exposed to view a considerable por-
tion of our lapelled and capacious-pocketed white waist-
coats. Our breeches of white cloth were made to fit so
tight, that how we contrived to get them on and off
without tearing has been to me a source of frequent
wonderment ; while our long.white gaiters, composed of
glazed linen, reached just above the bend of the knee,
and were tied round the upper part of the calf of the
leg with bands of black leather. As to our hats, they
resembled in form the head-dresses which are still
worn in Chelsea Hospital ; and to distinguish us, I
presume, from regiMents of the line, they were bound
round the edges with silver lace. Our arms, again,
were the musket and bayonet, not very different from
those still in use ; our accoutrements were of a class
peculiar to times gone by. Instead of gathering up
the load of ammunition so as to throw the strain as
far as may be on the part of the body which is best
able to endure it, the guardians of the soldiers' com-
forts then seemed to regard such considerations as un-
worthy of their notice. Our belts were long and loose ;
the pouch came down to the skirts of our coats, and the
bayonet, suspended at the left side, swung like a sword
as the man moved. Neither must I forget to describe
both the hairy knapsacks into which our kits were stowed,
and the strange machine which was given to us as a
convenient place of stowage for our field ammunition.
The pouch contained in those days a wooden frame,
which was bored, both above and below, for thirty car-
tridges, and you were expected, in the heat of battle,
so soon as the upper tier was exhausted, to turn the
block round, and so reach the tier below. I need,
scarcely add, that the very first time we got under fire
the inconvenience of this arrangement made itself felt ,
and that the woods, as they were called, being taken
out, the men carried their cartridges thenceforth loose
in their pouches.
" If such was the style in which the King's Govern.
ment equipped and clothed the King's foot-guards, what
shall I say of the sort of exercise to which we were
trained ? In handing the musket there were not fewer
than fifty-two movements, the whole of which went on
so soon as a single word of command was spoken.
Poise arms!' was that word ; on the utterance of whieh
it fuglernan began to caper, and the entire line, watch-
ing his movements, tossed and brandished their arms
into all manner of grotesque figures. When we stood
with arms shouldered, we were made to keep the butt
of the firelock on the hip, and to stick out the elbow of
the left arm, so that there should be between it and the
side an interval of three inches. When we fixed bayo-
nets it was by a motion similar to that which the swords-
man makes when he draws ; and then our shoulder—
it took, if I recollect right, three hitches to get the
implement into its place. And, finally, our manceuvres ;
they were complicated, unwieldy, performed always at
slow time, and seemed to throw us into every imaginable
shape, which could avail nothing in the hour of peril.
One really cannot look back upon the military arrange.
ments that prevailed at that time without a smile."

The' Toledo Rapier" is full of that light, neatly
tnrned dialogue which forms the chief attraction of
Mr. Peake's (the author's) dramas. " Moral Eco-
nomy of Large Towns," is by Dr. Taylor. It is a
sound, serviceable essay on crime and punishment ;
advocates, of course, the side of humanity ; and is
here and there enlivened—some might say defaced
—by a pun or a joke whifili are worth their weight
in lead. Speaking of the early habits of the ex-
emplary colony of Botany Bay, we are told, " pro-
fane swearing went to such an extent, that New
Holland, like old Holland, was a country of
damns. Picking pockets reached the perfection
I which might be expected in a country where na-
ture has supplied kangaroos with pouches, for the
express purpose of training young practitioners in
the art of conveyancing ; instead of a continent,
Australia became an incontinent"—(We regret to
be obliged to destroy the effect of this pun, but
truth is paramount to ail other considerations—
Australia is not a continent)—" the name of the
Southern Island was like to be extended to the
groupe, and the whole named Van Demon's
Land ; and the very ocean seemed about to change
name and nature, and to become Belligerent
instead of Pacific." Dr. Taylor is a sen-
sible, well-informed writer, but he should
beware of drollery. His humour is really
no joke. Some of his puns in the above passage
arc positively quite excruciating. The " Patron
King," by Mrs. Trollope, is an amusing little ro-
mance, with a useful moral tacked on to the tail, of
it. In its slight and graceful structure, and still
more in the ingenuity of its incidents, it reminds
us of one of Voltaire's tales—say, " L'lngenu,"
or " Scarmentado." The illustration by Her-
vieu is excellent. " Wolf-hunting in the Landes"
is the production of the Hon. Erskine Murray.
Some of the incidents are handled with spirit ; and
the accident of the little Frenchman is told with
much comic humour. " A Legend of Money-
hatch-lane" is an evident imitation of the Ingoldsby
Legends. " 1 hate e'en Garrick thus at second-
hand." So says Churchill. So say we. Mr.
Dalton should draw from his own resources. He
is not devoid of fancy, and does himself injustice,
when he servilely follows in the wake of another.
" Remarkable Suicides" is a stringing together of
divers curious matters-of-fact, which those who
take an interest in the pheenomena of human
nature will read with attention. The account
of the strange suicide of Colonel Mordaunt, to
which the author alludes in a few lines, may be
found in one of Goldsmith's Essays we think
his " Citizen of the World." It is there told in
detail, and in a fitting spirit of reprobation. " Colin
Clink" maintains its interest unimpaired. Lawyer
Skinwell's death, in particular, shows great truth
and force of colouring. " Prospectus of the New
Joint-stock London Suicide Company" is a clever
quiz. On the whole, the present Miscellany exni-
bits a great variety of talent—which we are glad to
see, for we have no notion of a Magazine being kept
up solely by the abilities of one man.