The Sun.
London, England, 1837-05-13 00:00:00

LITERATURE.

RORY ()WORE. Three Vols.
Bentley, London, 1837 . Mr. Lover has here produced his best work of fic-
tion, which will survive when half the Irish sketches
with which the literary World just now teems, are
forgotten. Rory O'illore is a true Irish lad, whose:
pecunarities there can be no mistaking. The national
Spirit of fun and festivity, of shrEwrlness and simplicity,
of humour and pathos, is admirably developed in his
character, and imparts to it just such a freshness and
.
reality as me admire in Lady Morclan's talc of " O'Don-
niell." The interest we take in the varied adventures of
ito ~
T, is never once suffered to abate. We welcome him
r
edgeNow-
be him to he, if possible, more Irish than even Dan
;41"i. His definition of a good stick, in a dialogue
in
he enters into in the shop of a stiek-seller
la Dublin, involves one or two admitable traits
of character. The shopman has been recommending
t 0 his notice an elegant light cane---but we must leave
-tt. ory to recapitulate the heads of the dialogue in his
sun manner, just observing, by the way, that lie is
*uPposed to be repeating it to a fellow.traveller on his
road home by the stage-coach :....._
. 'Well, I picked out one that looked to my liking—a good,
substantial stick, with an ivor • to to it for I seen that the
goold.headed ones was so dear I Pcouldn't come up to them ;
!land so says I, `Dive me a hawld of that,' says I, and I took
ogriP of it Inever was so surprized in my life. I thought
In
wag
a good, brave handful of a solid stick ; but, my dear,
`ns Ahem'vell it didn't fl y out of my hand almost, it was so light..
not .saYs I, ' what sort of a stick is this ?" I tell you its
I. !„siick but a cane,' says he. ' Faith, I believe you,'. says
f
_..ou see how good and light it is,' says he. Think o
!hat, to call a stick good and light—as if there could. be
any good in life in a stick that was'ilt heavy, find could strike a
fgooood.. Now! 'ls it joking you are ?' says I. ' Don't you
lit )ourself?' says he. `Truth, I can hardly feel it at all,'
lßays I. Sure, that's the beauty of it,' says he. Think of
ib°, ignorant vagabone—to call a stick a beauty that was as,
gnt Almost as a bullrush ! ' And so you can hardly feel it ?
"Ya he, grinni ' .
Yes, indeed,' say's I, 'and what's worse,
I don't, think Ingc.ould make any one else feel it either.' ' Oh,
You Want a stick to bate people with ?' says be. 'To be
sure,. Says I.
' Sure what's the use of a stick 7" Well,
,Pehicokicou! the heaviest of them you plaze,' says he, ' take your
end .i.e• So I went poking and rummaging among them,
_ u you believe me, there wasn't a stick in the whole shop,
!forth a kick in the shins, divil a one."
~ 'us Is genuine, unforced humour, as genuine as
find
a the arch, quiet touches of character that we
i'llul in the works of Fielding and Miss Austen. The
13,d huntsman, in "Joseph Andrews," who when the
Squire was setting his hounds on Parson Adams, in-
thgnantly called them off, because they would be
BP°lled if the were allowed "t to hunt vermin," neverthrewout a more characteristic trait than our friend
Litory• in the a!rove definition of a good stick. Mr.
over must give us another real Irish story, and the
kooner the better. He must also embellish it himself,
:Ind write sonas for it himself' for he ia• excellent in
1)0th departments.
Tri-

-E GREAT 11171TROPOLIS, 2 VoLs.
Thls Saunders and Otley, London, 1837.
is the second series of a work that has met
Ith no slight popularity. It is not so entertaining as
11(4e first series because the subject is well nigh ex-
austedr but it is agreeably diversified with anecdote,
Arid that gossiping sort of information which
rlever comes amiss to the reader. The best chapters
are the two which are devoted to literary matters, be-
ause there the author is more at home, and speaks
f.
u from a long personal experience of the sub-
jct. His account of Almacks is too general, and adds
tttle to what is already known respecting the origin
I,nd progress of this exclusive, aristocratical institution.
anecdote about the Duke of Wellington having
;been one night refused admittance to the rooms, is
'44liliar to most of our readers, from the circumstance
of its having formed the subject of sott2e piquant rhymes
Luttrel's well-known " Advice to Julia." The
Historical Sketch of the Bank of England" in the
fifth chapter, will be read with interest by all men who
are conversant with commercial matters.

-TrAlucs ON ANCIENT AND MODERN ART.

_ .
Blackwood, Edinburgh, 1837.
The object of the following essays," says the
author of this work, in a brief and modest preface,
hils to present within a brief compass, a general view,
m. ,
tce'rical and critical, of ancient and modern 4art."
his object he has fully accomplished, and in a grace-
-441 and candid spirit. Hii work is not unduly bur-
:Lied with minute, technical details ; nor does it make
suUJect cumbrous parade of knowledge, but discusses the
just as an "amateur" (for so time author styles
ei:11"10 of a refined and cultivated.mind might be
„3nsed to do.
r,7t 11 His. remarks on architecture are re-
e
with critical acumnen, and may be read with ad-
by the generality of our modern architects.
1)0 s.w

ORTII FIELD; OR, THE FATE OF
PLANTAGENET.
In 3 Vole, Snatle, Elder, and Co., 1837 .
Th' rhis ele:;ant Romance, which is dedicated, by per-
-Bsi°ll, to Lord Morpeth, has realized our early ex-
PeG, ctation by reaching a second edition. We may there-
7
Ludy Infer that its popularity can in no way be
titeatlY influenced by any notice of it on the part of
fulldailY press. The author has succeeded to the
Cest extent the authors of such works can reasonably
~fi Pe for success ;—and we have pleasure in adding,
to
his success has not fallen short of his deserts.

THE OCEAN,
In Six Cantos ; and Other Poems.
Br Jon :v. nu:NH.4ILE.
Byers, Devonport, 1837.
w. Works published in the provinces do not fairly come
vithin the jurisdiction of inezropolitan criticism, and
netefore, when brought before its bar, are entitled to
degree of courtesy. For our own part where we
0 not discover grounds for warm commendation, we
are always ready to allow the authors to give the best
account they can of their own productions ; taking
re, at, the same time, that their statement shall be
from
reported, with a view to their deriving
there-
toni the greatest possible advantage.
-• Acting upon this principle—which we hold to be a
'lerous one, as regards a large class of authors—we
1110te the preface of the volume of poems now before
111114) in which, bythe way, there are passages by no
,„ deficient in the hiaher requisites of didactic
erseb

Sty name has never before appeared on a title-page,
probaabsil.ana totally unknown beyond. my own vicinity, it will
al* Itbe expected that I should give some account of my-
„is the present volume into the world.
t„.. Bei'l it known, then, that I have no advantage of birth, for-
station, to recommend my work. I cannot even
-`lll9t of a
pen,t_classical education. My situation. is that of a sti-
folltriry clerk in an attorney's office. This avocation I have
atv ir'' d from boyhood, and shall probably follow to the end of
WI, which has past its meridian.
litp towards the close of the year 1834 I committed my first
of 4:,,1,Y. lin. by publishing a bagatelle volume, under the title
kr__ .‘acreations in Rhyme, by a Cornubian." In the spring and
n
whq.lilnet. o,!' the last year, I began and completed ' The Ocean,' o
guide me
am n a laundied without a compass or a star to . ,
km ot knowing whither I should be driven. My frail bark
tic% boefe9 some time on the waters before I formed the resotlur-
Prise neirnumnavigating the globe ; the details of which t? ec-
nuksllly the whole of the last four cantos. . This will.tao-_
this _ ler the iiregularity of my plan ;
bur
snature, I which, in
.a subjec
.f
trust will not be deemed a very serious heresy, • .abiect rt
riticisto e to the penalty of immolation on the altar of
le4sv'eW,thlieetfier my mind is poetically moulded, or not, I must
to us„ :
_World to decide. This, however, I oay.baetiaolnlo, allowed
was
er."4
mtohrat no poet, nor pretender toI poetico_
allinspfthat is great
----all that enthusiastic admirer than am
ver et ,v is beautiful—in both nature and art. Although I am
been ~.I"lnPed in the i• of a town ; although I have never
1)N Cgtigent of the duties of my station i and although my
p,rehtls, professionally, fertilized es many nefe; of paper and
%rain ''xit Cs tbat of timpst of my fraternity' ; yet I ear.not
'there-
kot tr.nY mind from occasionally taking wing, and I am, at the
e ::iniir' ranging unconfined amidst the hills and valleys, by
done vFaters,' and through 'the i'i6ce:t°°4; and Wilds of my native land, and the more mag-
green past,treg,' the gar-
thildh lannes of other regions. This has been my taste from
_lsti,i;tah'ig. and, it seems -to l;vewith my growth a.
'grown ."4
lunver been gratified, e4eept by a short annuat, Of ifiii Oglii4ent)

migration to the country, where I find n yself in my own de-
lightful element.

The circulation of the present edition (containing only
300 copies) must necessarily be confined to the place of its
publication. I own I should'be glad (like an ambitious actor)
to make my appearance before a London audience ; but, hav-
ing no one to introduce me, and not having the means of self-
introduction, I almost despair of that honour."