The Sun.
London, England, 1825-06-01 00:00:00

LITERARY NOTICE.

The STORY of a LIFE.—By the Author of " Scenes and
Impressions in Egypt and Italy," " Recollections of the-Pe-
ninsula," &c. In Two Volumes. •
Weare always happy in being the 6rst amongst
our contemporary Journals in paying the due
meetl of praise to any particullir specimen of highly-
gifted genius ; and we now congratulate ourselves
in thus giving Qur " all hail" of sincere admira-
tion to the Author Of Recollections of the Penin
stria, etc. on .this his first step into r the powerful
territory of Romance, a stile of writing, where,
if accomplished according to its object, we find
-the magic combinations of a. tine iinagination,'
worked out of real scenes, observed, and turned
to new. shapes impressions, by reason and
fancy, into an almost positive appearance of an
actual existence.. Scenes, indeed, which ninny
see, and, do not observe; Or, observing,. ye,t fail
to view in the just, the penetrating, the varied
lights, which 'belong to such minds alone, and such
comprehensive knowledge of the great-purpose of
man's life and conduct, as the author of this
deeplY 'interesting story displays in every page.
NVe shall gratify otir Readers with. One " taste
of its quality ;" and, as the readiest, we givei.the
opening of the hero's narrative '•
" Five-and thirty years have passed, since, in-that high and
happy excitement of feeling, to which even the parting from
those who love us, lends a new and rapturous emotion, all
burning with hope, and exulting to be free, I left my peace-
ful home.

" Five-and-thirty ! _
" The ' God bless you, preserve, and prosper you !' of my
anxious father, still vibrates on my ear, in the same tremulous
tone in which it was uttered. The agitated step of my fond mother,
as she hurried away from our last embrace ; the beautiful face,
paler than I had ever seen it, which looked with a scarce-per-
mitted gaze from the window of my sister's chainber, are still
present to me. The farewell of a groupe of servants, half la-
ment and half encouragement, enabled me to mount my horse
without a pause, and gave relief to a heart which beat in my
bosom as if it would have burst the throbbing barrier. Fast
fell my tears. For two miles I rode at a rapid thought-dispel-
.
lingree ; then pulling up., proceeded at a lingering walk ; and
on tree, on bush, on rivulet, around, gated fondly, as If they
could carry to my home a later look, a laSt adieu. As I was
beginning to ascend a frequented and favourite hill, •a hand
caught and pressed my knee—the hand of. Edward, my young,
my only brother. Hither had he run before me, to ensure a
parting, later, longer, and all his own. Up this hill, his hand
still pressing me, and his streaming eyes now lifted to my face,
now bent upon the ground, lie walked in struggling silence by
my horse's side. At the corner of a forest lane, which led to
one of our summer haunts, he burst from me with sudden
speed, and' was out of sight in a moment. How I loved him—
he was then only fourteen—full of genius, and, what is better,
goodness, very affectionate in his gentle manners; of a quiet,
contented disposition. He never had seen (ah, • happy boy !)
he never did see the world.
" Thole is always a sunniness . on. the past.—flow often, in
my sad and eventrul life, have I closed my wearied eyes to
shut out the scene before me, and looked back upon my forest
home, till my pressed eye-Lids have been forced to open for the
warm andgushing burst of sorrow. Now, I' never , weep ; but
they, who should gaze fixedly on my withered cheek, might
trace the deep.worn channel of a life of tears. The broad,
mirror now reflects to me a form I scarce recognize. My curl-
ing, thick, and raven locks, are thin and grey. My full dark
eye la sunken ; my limbs, once my vain pride, are shrunk ;
and the world sweeps me with her rustling silks, as one too
Unany in her gay and busy throng. Yet, let me pause. lam
alone a solitary man; but ram happy; yes. happy ir. my hope!
And whenever in this narrative I point too vividly.the fancied
good I sought, think not it would be•now my choice; think
riot that could [again live over my youthful days—schooled,
discipl is
as I have been—l would so fondly dote on earth.
My thirst s slaked for ever. To my tale"—
And the tale shews man to the heart's core.

BIRTHS.
Oh Sunday, thd29th lilt., at Coolhurst,• in Susssz, the Lady
Augusta Chichester, of a son. . .
- On the nth ult.,- at Ranger's Lodge, in Oxfordshire, the
lady of Sir Henry Lambert, Bart., of a son.
---

MARRIED'.
Yesterday, at St. Luke's, Chelsea, Samuel Jasper Blunt,
Esq.„ of Chelsea, to_ Elizabeth Mary, eldest daughter of R. E.
N. tee, Esq., Of the game place.
On' the 213th-nit., Mr. F. a Wentley, of the Strand, to Miss
Emma Sniith, of King-street; Fhtsbury-sqUare;

D.TED.
At Weyroutli,, the 30th oft, aged. O yers, giria Therese,
eldest daughter of Carlos Crowther, Esq..
On Tuesday morning, the 31st ult.. aged 5-5, Hannah, the
wife of Mr. Frith, of Oxford4treet.

SOCIETY FOR THE ENCOURAGEMENT OF ARTS,
MANUFACTURES, AND COMMERCE.

• The Rewards adjudged by the Society were
pre‘ented on Monday at the King's Theatre, in the Ilay-
matket, to the-xespective Candidates., by his Royal Highness
the' Duke of SUSSEX, in the following order:—