The Sun.
London, England, 1839-10-01 00:00:00

NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE.

For once in a way, we have received this periodi-
cal in due time, which we merely mention, because
it is an agreeable surprise. The first article
" Emily, or the Unexpected Meeting," is a tale
from the pen of the Editor, Theodore Hook. It is
made up of the slenderest possible materials, and
comes to a very abrupt and awkward close.
Speech-making after Dinner," is smartly and
epigrammatically written, with an arch vein of
satire running through it. It is not a mere sketch
of the fancy, but is evidently dashed off at a heat
from the life. One, at least, of the " eloquent" post-
prandial orators, to whom the author alludes, we
think we can recognize. But it is not so much
England, as Ireland, that is the country of after-
dinner speechifyers. There, attendance at a public
ovation, is quite a serious matter, because if you
attempt to listen, you are sure to fall asleep—lrish
imagery being of a peculiarly narcotic character ;
and if you happen to snore during your slumber,
you are sure to he knocked on the head. The
" Hypochondriac" is a lively paper, in the good old
essay style of the 'Spectator—that is to say, con-
sisting of truthful reflections illustrated and enforced
by brief and apposite sketches of character. We
subjoin the introductory passage :
N 0 bore is so truly insupportable as the bore hypochon•
driacal, whether the unfortunate victim who is laid under
the most serious of all contributions. namely, that of lis-
tening to complaints of diseased feelings, be an ordinary
acquaintance!, or the medical adviser of the wretched in•
valid. It is in vain even for the doctor to plead other
engagements, in order to escape from thousand times told
tale of sufferings. If his patient be of the masculine gen-
.der, he is held by a button, which he must either lose, or
consent to listen; if of the tender sex, the thin and
I,llnclied hand is laid upon his forearm ; and when we re-
flect that the fair complainant is labouring under the dread
of death, with an unconquerable passion for life, robbed, as
it apparently is to her, of all that can prove the least pro-
ductive of enjoyment, who can find heart enough to cut
short the thread of her details. If we refuse to listen, how
much pleasure do we mar; for in analyzing the feelings
of the hypochondriac, we cannot avoid concluding, that if
sympathy be a balm to suffering, his complainings, to a
certain degree, must be productive of pleasure. They
south his morbid feelings; and, in finding a gratification
from detailing his griefs, he seeks every opportunity of
doing so it is evident also, that in spite of all his repinings,
the hypochondriac has an insupportable aversion to be re-
lieved of the burden which oppresses him. He loves to
sit under the cloud which overshadows his mind, and to
court that morbid excess of apprehension, which embitters
his existence. He turns his eyes from the numerous com.
forts which balance the evils of mortality, and dashes from
his lip the cordial which Providence has bestowed to re-
fresh man in his weary pilgrimage. It is a curious fact,
that although the hypochondriac is miserable if he is not
under medical management, yet he rarely follows any ad-
vice which is giv,,n him. He is, in fact, in a worse pre.
dicament than Tantalus—he longs for that which is set
before him, but nevertheless, refuses it when ho has the
power of possession.
How to Get On" tells some plain ungracious
truths. The following is true to the letter
literary adventurer thrusts himself into all compa-
nies, and becomes a member of all societies. He
talks loud and long at Institutes and Associations,
and dogrsatizes at tea-tables, becomes a pro-
fessional diner out, and is perhaps mistaken for a
wit, merely because he thinks well enough of hitn-
self to be impertinent to his betters. If such a
man is placed by circumstance in the line of pro-

EVENIN EDITIONr

motion, he will stand a fair chance of obtaining it
to the exclusion of the man of merit,
who posses
ses every fitness fur office, save the capacity of
making that fitness known to nhose who will no!'
-
take the trouble of discovering it for linn•
Empty self-sufficiency like this, however, will nqt
stand the " literary adventurer " in the long run.
He may chatter or pun -himself into notoriety for a
while, but to succeed permanently he must produce
sterling vouchers—give um quivocal certificates of
sound ability—in a word, as Burke says, speaking
of "he must exhibit his ticket at every turn-
pike." A flashy flippancy of speech and writing will
ch much—but only for a season. " The Widow
Married" contains some broad humorous scenes,
drawn in Mts. Trollope's most effective manner,
We cannot say, however, that we have any sympa-
thy with that tall, starinc,, dignified specimen Of
aristocratic assumption, who answers to the name
of General Hubert. He stalks through the scene
with all the solemnity of a ghost in tragedy, and is
just about as silent and superfluous. ‘• The life
and Times of Peter Pri,rgins" display humour,
and m.casionall), nice observance of the more sa-
lient points of character, but it always leaves off at
the moment when we are most interested in it. We
have a great honor of the words " to be continued"
at the end of a Magazine article. They deter many
readers from perusing the sketch or story thus disfi-
gurcd. A " Charade" by f is a pleasant puzzle, of
which we have not time to attempt the solution.

BENTLEY'S MISCELLANY.
The present chapters of "Jack Sheppard" shows
more tact and nature, in the way of dialogue, than
Mr. Ainsworth is usually in the habit of mani-
festing. Tir:4 supper at Kneebone's, the Jacobiti-
cal linen-draper, is, in particular, described with
much spirit ; and no: less animated is the account.
of the gaoler Shotbolt's mishap. We have nothing
of Jonathan Wilde in this chapter,. which is a re-
lief, for the thief-taker is a most repelling charac-
ter, in whose actions it is utterly I,:npossible
take the slightest interest. We should just as soon
think of sympathising with the fortunes of a Me-
phistopheles. The author should beware of as-
signing a prominent station.' in his fictions tt.' per-
sonages such as these, who possess nothing of •
act
minty but the form, for he may rely on it they .
like scarecrows to frighten away his readers. "11.1Tt.
cent Eden " resumes his diverting Oxford adven-
tures this month. There is a lightness and droller).
about these confessions and recollections that rely'
tiers them excessively diverting. Odd as is thecharacter of John "Raffletoi), the non-reading
Oxonian, it is scarcely an exaggeration, but it will
be at once recognised by those who remember what
the Oxford or Cambridge roue was, ,nine twenty
or thirty years ago. We subjoin a letter written by
this worthy to one of his brother students,- after his
expulsion from the University. It is full whin?
sical absurdities :
"MY DEAR LANE—I sit down, according to prow ise,otof
' gibe a slight sketch of my proceedings since I left yokl• ,id
my journey to town, I confess that I have but a fait"' a-d
indistinct recollection. I think that my head manila 't'ch
an unusual desire to form an alternate acquaintance
the coachman's shoulder and its mother earth, during the
night; and I can positively swear to informing that worth,'
that it was an exceedingly cold morning on being woke;
which I was by a dustman (whose wheel we hadtre4ll"
shaved,') calling out that the leaders had droppe°
tails. The impromptu answer which I gave him lam
afraid I have also forgotten ; but you may judge of it sor';
and pith be the dustman's r• joinder, which was expr
essiv
of a decided willingness to submit to the somewhat 1110'1
tural operation of " being blowed if that ere cove frnOsla
have taken lodgings with a cabman the last time he Wl'' ro
town, and kept him up at nights on purpose for to Is
his language." A quarter of an hour more saw me core P'
ing from the vehicle of one of the identical class of ied
with whom the imaginative dustman had thus assoatte
me, and making furious efforts to effect an entrance-tat.o
my old quarters, the Colonnade Hotel, Charles-.street,2ll
itie H ,yrnark,t ; in which, in spite of the suggestion I,t
passing policeman, " that the hotel bad gone to bed, an
"
hadn't got up eg.fin yet," I at last succeeded; and the
bed-rootas being full, was ushered into a bath• rocmed
peeled—fell asleep in the water--and dreamt I was titu
into a bathing-machine, for two hours _after which, the
household b lug on the stir, I proceeded to the eofre,!!'
room, and ordered breakfast. I confess I like the Colon-
nade ; it is suet) a central place for everything ; and the
waiters are so used to all my little innocent peculiarities ;
and then the air with which they bring me my ale for
breakfast n a tea-pot, to save appearances, and hope the
tea isn't too strong,' if they can catch any inquisitive Flair
of coffee-room eyes looking at all suspiciously
at the
of the beverage; all this, I say, makes me prefer the C,','
lonnade to any hotel whatsoever and wheresoever in Lot"
don. One thing, however, rather puzzled me; ai-d that:
was, what I was to do in town now I was there; and this'
being a question, the answer to which was—like my
breakfast—not quite read)—l began to cast my eye,:
listlessly over the columns—first of the Arcade, as
then of- the Morning Paper, which the waiter had
.iu„.",
brought in. There was nothing in either to interest
•
Suduenly an idea came into my head, suggested, no dean,'
by the aforesaid imaginative dustman's speech to me, whicA7
for originality I do think you will allow to be unparallee-is
It had often struck me that a cabman must sees grcatA'etn
of life in all its various lights and shades. I deternaineuie'l
become one. I hired No. 2,225, coat, pipe, aban-ns
and—no not breeches—inclusive, for thirty shilli"gs ;au -
having taken the preliminary step of nailing the blinels,3l)
to the windows, took my station on the following SaturVar
in the Haymarket. My first faro was an actor wh°
been jumping Jim Crow,' before a crowded audience 1_
the Haymarket, and had to repeat the part the instant be
had finished there, at the Surrey. In I put him, and away
I dashed ; the immoveable blinds preventing his reds(
where where I was going, till I pulled him out full-dressed
in the Regent's-park, and drove off, leaving him a prey to
to bitter reflections, and a cool starlight night. The neat
morning[l had the satisfaction of; reading in the same paPejr
that a person supposed to be the notorious Spring heeled
Jack, had been fired at without effectlin the Regent's-park,
and that the manager of the Surrey Theatre had escaped
with difficulty from the fury of a disappointed pit and gal-
lery who rose in arms against him. My next employes
was a most respectable old lady, just come up (with two—
grand-daughters I suppose they were), to town, of which
she evidently knew nothing. She wanted to be driven to
a quiet family hotel. I drove her to the Penitentiary;
thundered at the door; pulled her out, girls, boxes, and all,
and drove off."
" Mathews, Kemble, and Mustapha the Cat,"
is a humourous anecdote, extracted from the forth-
coming volume of the Memoirs of the unrivalled
mimic—fur Mathews was little better, whatever his
numerous admirers may allege to the control'
" Cwlebs in search of a Cenotaph," is from the
pen of our favourite Torn Ingoldsby. There is
nothing in the conception of this trifle ; but the
the working-up is admirable. There is no corn. l,
rhymester of the day Who shows half the artistic
skill of this writer. He actually makes a sing
purse out of a sow's ear. Nor is he by any fue-i)
devoid of poetical fancy, for there are occasion-
ideas and images in his compositions which contrineee
us that, were b
he to turn his attention that way' far
might put to shame many of the more poPt'
versifyers of the day. " Aneit nt and iVluder f
Mohocks " is a plain, matter-of fact account °
smile of the most notorious,
men about towil--,,tib'e
e
Tennis
and Jerr)s—of past and present times. be
article is en'eraining, but superficial. In the
first place, the author wholly mistakesrbe
character of the Roman Feast of ts
Lupercal, which, thobgli liable to abuse, w..la;
originally an august and half-religious fesfitist'est
and on one occasion was seiected as the -toe
season at which to bestow the honour of a Pu is,
triumph on crie of Rome's greatest Generro
Shakspeare rightly understood its character when
he made Marc Antony say, in Julius Casar,---
" You all do know that on the Lupercal,
I thrice presented him a kingly crown,
Which he did thrice refuse."
Then, again, we have no mention of Alcibia-ee,
who,and hisf
the famousaut fashionable
definition
of a
y oung sq of truitBt,°rbe
“Mohock' t
correct, was, in his earlier days, one of the 11,1°t0
modernitotorio timusiVleos,hocks of antiq
omit all notice of the
Prince of Wales, and Colonel Hanger, anddve
oils an, the
Td Jerrvs of that period, of which we "a
a most diverting history in the Colonel's mem?irs,
who was remarkable for his Mohock propensitint
However, the article is well enough, so far all
goes, but it might have formed the subject of a,,i;
curious, and, in some sort, instructive paper.
hing
Harem Unveiled" is just a palpable quiz bits
bits
more. The " Spalpeen" contains smite clever
this
of description. " Colin Clink flags rather
month.

FRA S MAGAZINE.
Oliver Yorke is rather overdoing the subject °I
Aristophanes. Three or four critical Essays °°
1.1
this dramatic satirist, are well enough ; but wh.eh
they come to be repeated, month after month,
little or no variation of inatter—the theme, too, being
nearly an exhausted one—we begin to resent the
infliction as unwarrantable. Partridges, once or
t
twice in a way, are light and dainty eating ;
" toujours perdrix" is not to be endured. \' e
d
hope this gentle hint will be taken. " The Lege"
of Becket" is as good as such legends usually are
but to revive the characters of ages Fast, so as to
give us an interest in them, requires the genius of a
'cott. " The Elder Sacred Poets" is a very plea
sant Essay, written in a discerning spirit, and fur;
nishing us with many extracts from works that til

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