The Sun.
London, England, 1830-01-22 00:00:00

LITERATURE.

DARNLEY, 3 VOLS —LONDON, 1830.
There is much vivid description, correct delinea-
tion of manners, and agreeable portraiture of cha-
racter in this very interesting tale, which pos-
sesses besides a fund of good sense, that will
go far to redeem its character with those who
profess to hold the historical romance in contempt.
The scene is laid chiefly in England, during the
early period of the reign of Henry VIII., but
shifts for a time to the Continent, in order to
give the author an opportunity of displaying his
Powers in the description of the well-known
" Field of the cloth of gold," where Henry and
Francis the First vied with each other in the splen-
dour, variety, and warlike appurtenances of t heir re-
sPective Courts. The several interviews that took
Place between those gay and gallant Monarchs are
detailed with infinite spirit and splendour, and en-
title the author to take a high rank among the
historical romancers of the day. Lord Darnley,
under the assumed name of Sir Osborne Maurice,
is the hero of the story ; he is represented as an
enterprising, high-minded young man, of an old
Patrician English family, but which has unfor-
tunately fallen under the displeasure of Henry
the Eighth, owing to its having favoured the
claims of Perkin Warbeck, who set himself up
as the legitimate heir to the throne in opposition
1°- •the then reigning Monarch, Henry the
Seventh. The estates of the family are conse-
quently estreated, and the chief incidents of the
• present tale are the endeavours (finally successful
of course) on the part of the hero, Lord Darn-
ley, to recover them and revenge himself on Sir
l'ayan Wileton, their usurper. We have not
space to enter at further length into the details
of the different incidents that are lavishly

scattered through the tale ; but may just mention,
in general terms, that they possess much vivid
interest. The characters also, especially those of
a wild enthusiastic astrolOger, Sir Cesar, Sir
Payne Wileton, and a fat English clothier, Jekin
Groby, are drawn with a natural and skilful
Pencil. The following interview, between Darnley
and the usurper of his family possessions, is
forcibly sketched :-
1' So saying, he quitted the apartment, and proceeded
to the room in which Sir Osborne was still pacing up
ansd down, waiting impatiently the approach of night.
The key turned in the door, and with a firm step Sir
Pay
an entered, and stood before his captive. For a mo-
ment they paused, and eyed each other an when they had
first met,
and it was only by a strong effort that the young
Knight stayed himself from seizing the persecutor of his
race, and dashing him to pieces on the floor of the prison.
" At length Sir Payan, after having glanced his eye
round
, the chamber, spoke, and in the deep hollow tones
of his voice no agitation made itself heard.
_...4
You said this morning that we knew each other,'
!slid the Knight
Marne Lord Darnley, we do—l have
long sought you_l have found you, and you are mine
own.,

" Calm, cold-blooded, mean-spirited ♦illain !' an-
swered Darnley, what seek you with me now ? Is it
not enough to hare ruined a noble house ?—ls it not
enough to have destroyed your benefactor ?—ls it not
enough to have swept away the happiness of me and mine,
without seeking further to injure those on whose head
Your detestable arts must nearly have exhausted them-
selies ?'
"`I have done enough for my revenge, young man,'
replied Sir Payan ; I have done enough for my ambi-
tion—buil have not done enough for my security.'
" ' For your revenge !' cried -Darnley : ' what mean
Yon, ruffian? My father was your friend—your benefac-
t°r• 'Compassionating your indigence, did he not aid to
raise you with his purse and with his influence, till you
could hold your bead amongst your noble kindred, of whose
house you are now the opprobrium ?'
".' Your father insulted me with his services,' answered
the Knight,' after your mother had insulted me with her
scorn.'

same not my mother, traitor !' exclaimed Darnley,
hi. eyes flashing fire. 'Profane not her name with your
accursed lips, lest I tear you limb from limb.'
" Sir Payan laid his hand on his dagger, with a grim
smile. 'We waste time, young man,' said he; To the
purpose for which I came. There is yet in my redder
blood some drops of that weak thing called pity.-4
would rather see you live than die; but if you would live,
I must be Lord of Chilham Castle indeed, and indeed.
No stewardship of Dover and holding by tenure of good
pleasure for me. Within this hour, then, sign me over for
Yourself and for your father all right and interest, claim and
title to the lands and Lordship, which you and yours did
formerly poisess, and you are free as air—But if you will
• 0t.,„..'

" What then ?' demanded Darnley.
" Why, then, I will hold by a still better tenure,' re-
Plied Sir Payan—' The extinction of the race of Darnley !'
" Then hold by it, if such be heaven's will,' replied the
Prisoner. ' But beware yourself, for in your best laid
schemes, you may chance to fail, and even here on earth
fleet with that sure damnation for which you have toiled
8° long. Were I willing to stain myself with crimes like
Yours, this hour were your last, fur yen dagger were hut a
Poor defence against a man who knows his life is lost.'
" Sir Payan took a step backward to the door. Will
You sign ?' said he, laying his hand on the lock.
" Never!'
" Then farewell!' and he quitted the apartment..' "

"ORE'S LIFE OF LORD BYRON.—VoL. I.

(FURTHER EXTRACTS.)
tra!Zd Byron's Letters written on his first
re much freshness and interest. TLie
follovlh
remind us strongly of the vivid descrip-
tions in
Childe Harold:—
, " An adventure which he met with at Seville
characteristic both of the country and of him.
self, is thus described in the same letter to Mrs.
Byron (his mother) :
" We lodged in the house of two Spanish un-
married ladies, who possess six houses in Seville,
and give us a curious specimen of Spanish man-
ners. They are women of character, and the
eldest a fine woman, the youngest pretty, but
not so good a figure as Donna Josepha. The
freedom of manner which is general here as-
tonished me not a little ; and in the course of
public observation I find that reserve is not the
eharacteristic of the Spanish belles, who are in
general very handsome, with large black eyes, and
very fine forms. The eldest honoured your un-
teorthy son with very particular attention, em-
bracing him with great tenderness at parting (I
'N'as there but three days), after cutting off a
• lock of his hair, and presenting him with one
of her own, about three feet in length, which I
send, and beg you will retain till my return.
Her last words were, Adios, to harmoso, me
.gusto macho.'—(Adieu, vou pretty fellow, )ou
Please me much.) She offered the a share of her
apartment, which my virtue induced me to de-
cline ; she laughed, and said I had some Eng-
lish ' amante' (lover), and added, that she was
Ping to be married to an officer in the Spanish
army. _ .

Among the beauties of Cadiz, his imagina-
tion, dazzled by the attraction of the many, was
on the point, it would appear from the following,
of being fixed by one :
" Cadiz, sweet Cadiz, is the most delightful

town I ever beheld ; very different froui our
English cities in every respect, except cleanli-
ness (and it is as clean as London), but still
beautiful and full of the finest women in Spain,
the Cadiz belles being the Lancashire witches of

their land. Just as I was introduced, and be-1
(-ran to like the grandeur, I was forced to leave
it for this cursed place ; but before I return to
Engla►►d I shall visit it again.
" The night before I left it, I sat in the box
at the Opera with Admiral . . . 's family, and
aged wife and a fine daughter, Sennoretta . .
The girl is very pretty in the Spanish style ; in
my opinion, by no means inferior to the English
in charms, and certainly superior in fascination.
Long black hair, dark languishing eyes, clear
olive complexions, and forms more graceful in
motion than can be conceived by an Englishman
used to the drowsy, listless air of his country-
women, added to the most becoming dress, and,
at the same time, the most decent in the world,
render a Spanish beauty irresistible.
" Miss . . . and her little brother un-
derstood a little French, and after regretting my
ignorance of the Spanish she proposed to be-
come my preceptress in that language. I could
only reply by a low bow, and express my regret
that I quitted Cadiz too soon to permit me to
make the progress which would doubtless attend
my studies under so charming a directress. I
was standing at the back of the box, which re-
sembles our opera boxes (the theatre is large,
and finely decorated, the music admirable), in
the manner in which Englishmen generally
adopt, for fear of incommoding the ladies in
• front, when this fair Spaniard dispossessed an
old woman (an aunt or a duenna) of her chair,
commanded the to be seated next herself, at a
tolerable distance from her mamma. At the
close of the performance I withdrew, and was
lounging with a party of men in the passage,
whe❑ en passant the lady turned round and
called me, and I had the honour of attending
her to the Admiral's mansion. I have an invi-
tation on my return to Cadiz, which I shall ac-
cept, if I return through the country on my re-
turn from Asia."

The following account of Lord Byron's private
affairs on his return to England, in 1811, will be
new to most of our readers :

" We have seen from the letters written by
him on his passage homeward, how far from
cheerful or happy was the state of mind in which
he returned. In truth, even for a disposition of
the most sanguine cast, there was quite enough
in the discomforts that now awaited him in
England to sadden its hopes and .check its buoy-
ancy. To be happy at home (says Johnson)
is the ultimate result of all ambition, the end to
which every enterprise and labour tends !' But
Lord Byron had na home—at least none that
deserved this endearing name. A fond family
circle, to accompany him with its prayers, while
away, and draw round him with listening eager-
ness on his return, was what, unluckily, he never
knew, though with a heart, as we have seen, by
nature formed for it. In the absence, too, of
all that might cheer and sustain, he had every
thing to encounter that could distress and hu-
miliate. To the dreariness of a home without
affection, was added the burden of an establish-
ment without means ; and he had thus all the
embarrassments of domestic life, without its
charms. His affairs had, during his absence.
been suffered co fall into confusion, even greater
than their inherent tendency to such a state war-
ranted. There had been the preceding year an
execution on Newstead, for a debt 0f..1500/.,
owing to the Messrs. Brothers, upholsterers ;
and a circumstance told of the veteran Joe
Murray on this occasion, well deserves to be
mentioned.: To this faithful old servant, jealous
of the ancient honour :of the Byrons, the sight
of the notice of sale, posted upon the Abbey
door, could not be otherwise than an unsightly
and intolerable nuisance. Having enough,
however, of the fear of the' law before his eyes,
not to tear the writing down, he was at last
forced, as his only consolatory expedient, to paste
a large piece of brown paper on it." .
Lord Byron thought very little of the merits
of Childe Harold, but promised himself much
fame from a Paraphrase of the Art of Poetry,
composed by him while abroad. " Though,"
says Mr. Moore, " on every thing that after his
arrival at the age of manhood he produced, some
mark in them of the master-hand may be traced,
yet, to print the whole of his Paraphrase of
Horace, which extends to nearly 800 lines,
would be at the best but a questionable compli-
ment to his memory. That the reader, how-
ever, may be enabled to form some opinion of a
performance, which by an error or caprice of
judgment, unexampled, perhaps, in the annals of
literature—its author for a time preferred to the
sublime reasoninga of Childe Harold, I shall
here select a few such passages from the Para-
phrase as may seem calculated to give an idea of
its merits, and its defects _

" The opening of the Poem is, with reference
to the original, ingenious :
Who would mot laugh, if Lawrence, hired to grace
His costly canvass with each flatter'd face,

Abused his art, till Nature, with a blush,
Saw cite grow centaurs underneath his brush ?
Or should some limner join, for show or sale,

A m4id of honour to ti mermaid's tail ?

Or low Dubost (as once the world has seen)
Degrade God's creatures in his graphic spleen ?
Not ad that forced politeness which defends
Foals in their faults, could gag his grinning friends.

Believe me, INfoschus, like that picture seems
The book, which, sillier than a sick man's dreams,
Displays a crowd of figures incomplete,
Poetic nightmares without head or feet.'
" The following is pointed, and felicitously
expressed
Then glide down Grub-street, fasting and forgot,
Laughed into Lethe by some quiiiit Review,
Whose wit is never troubleionie till—true.'

" Of the graver parts, the annexed is a fa
fourable specimen :
_

'New words find credit in these latter days,

If neatly grafted on a Gallic phrwe: -
What Chaucer, Spencer, did, we scarca refuse
To Dryden's, or to Pope's maturer muse.
If you can add a little, say, why not,
As well as William Pitt and Walter Scott—

Since they, by force of rhyme, and force of lungs,
Enrich'd our island's ill-united tongues ?
'Tis thine, and shall be lawful to present
Reforms in writing, as in Parliament.—
As forests shed their foliage by degrees,
So fade expressions which in season please ;
And we and outs, alas ! are due to fate,

And works and words but dwindle to a date.

Though, as a Monarch nods and commerce calls,
Impetuous rivers stagnate in canals;
Though swamps subdued, and marshes drain'd sustain
The heavy ploughshare and the yellow grain ;
And ri.ing ports along the briny shore
Protect the vessel from old Ocean's roar—

All, all must perish.—But surviving last,
The love of letters half preserves the past ;
True—some decay, yet not a few survive,
Though those shall sink which now appear to thrive,
As custom arbitrates whose shifting sway
Our life and language must alike obey.' "

7
A PERSIAN COMPLIMENT.—TtIe Persian
Ambassador, of Circassian notoriety, was one day intro-
duced to the lady of the gallant naval hero Sir S. S—
(who was of " a certain age," and in common parlance,
" old enough to be his mamma"), together with her fair
daughter, by a former husband. His Excellency was all
smiles and gallantry, as was his wont, in their presence;
but as soon as they had retired he turned to Sic S.
and said, " What ;or you marry that old fellow, Sir S.
S--.--? Why for you net marry that young fellow, her
daughter?" And, indeed, the choice had puzzled more
heads than that of his Excellency.

SPORTING INTELI.I<;ENCE.

TATTERSALL'S.

So few horses were backed outright yesterday, that
with tie exception of a few of the Derby favourite:, we
need only refer to our general statement of Thursday list.
Mummer and Brunswieker continue close together, the

former having a very Flight call. The day's business was
confined to betting between horses, Mummer being hacked
at 1100 to SOO, and 600 to 400 ugst Mahmoud and Zu-
charelli jointly, and against some others. Mouse was
backed against Cressida at 450 to 400. Ihe few en-
gagements were made at the following prices :