The Sun.
London, England, 1847-03-11 00:00:00

LITERATURE,

THE GREATEST PLAGUE OF LIFE • or.
The Adventures of a Lady in Search qf a Good
Scroant. Part 11.
Cruikihank's illustrations to this Part are admirable.
They are, the cat did it—all sorts of cats doing all sorts
of impossible mischief ; and "It is my cousin, Ma'am"—
a servant introducing to her mistress, who has unexpect-
edly made her appearance in the kitchen, a strapping
Life Guardsman. In this number we have the adven-
tures of the lady with a peppery, red hot, but honest-
hearted Irish servant, who gives way to a pretty, police-
man-Loring, soldier attracting, niminy piminy servant..
Although the staple of the work is amusing twaddle, yet
ever and anon we meet with passages of much sense,
wisdom, and suggestiveness. For instance, the follow-
ing observations of the husband upon his wife's corn
plaints of the misdoings of servants should be read and
studied by every master and mistress :
" He told me that I ought not to have insulted the girl in
the way I had, and that if, in her anger, she had put an cent
to my life—though the woman would have suffered for it—
still I should have been nearly as much to blame as she was;
adding, that it really struck him, that if I happened to get
hold of a good, honest, industrious servant, who merely
wanted to be humoured a little, that I must needs go driving
continually at her weak point, until I forced her out of the
house; for I seemed to think that the wages were all that
was due from the mistress to her servants, forgetting that I
had undertaken to make ray house their home, and that
if I stripped it of all the attributes of one, and converted
it into a prison instead, where they were to see no friends,
and be kept to so many months' hard labour, why, it was
only natural that they, poor things, finding I had forgotten
my du:y to them, should, in their turn, forget their duty
to me. Besides, he added, I should remember that though
there was little or no excuse for the mistress's non-per-
formance of her part of the contract, still some allowance
should be made for the poor creatures, whose very deficiencies
of education made them often do wrong merely because they
had never been lucky enough to have learnt better. And
then he had the impudence to ask me what I should say it;
when I asked my ncxt servant what kind of a character she
could have from her last mistress, the girl in return were to
ask me what kind of a character /could have from my last
servant? I told him that I should say that it was very like
her impudence, indeed, and tell her to get out of the house
directly—adding, that I never beard of such an absurd idea
in all my life before.
" Of course,' Edward replied, smiling at what I had said,
(though I'm sure I could see nothing to laugh at;) ' and
yet, perhaps, it is not quite so absurd a notion as you seem
to fancy. You forget that the girl comes into your house to
be subject to your every little whim and caprice, and that
not only her bread, but also her comfort and happiness are
dependent upon your character ; and it stands to reason,
from the very nature of things, that the slave must suffer
more from the tyrant, than the tyrant can possibly suffer
from the slave.'"

THE COMIC lIISTORY OF ENGLAND. By
Gilbert a Becket. Illustrated by Leech.
Merrily do we laugh through the reigns of Henry
VI. and Edward IV. under the guidance of Mr. a
Beckett ; and, laughable though it be, his account of
Joan of Arc is the only true one that has yet been given.
After the same fashion does he treat Margaret of Anjou,
another heroine of those dull and solemn romancists,
who have chosen to dub themselves historians. After
observing of Henry VI., that " What had been in child-
hood the gentleness of the lamb, became in manhood
downright sheepishness," he thus proceeds :
" Henry being a mere nonentity, it was resolved to try and
make something of him by finding him a wife of spirit; as
if small beer could be turned into stout by mixing a quantity
of gin with it. Margaret of Anjou was selected for the for-
mation of this deleterious compound. She was one of those
intolerable nuisances—a fine woman, with a great deal of
decision, which means that she was decidedly disagreeable.
Her father was a nominal king of Sicily and Jerusalem ; but
lie had no real dominions, and only rented, as it were. a brass
plate, or had his name up over the door of the countries spe-
cified. He was as poor as a cup of tea after the fifth water,
and ruled over about as much land as he could cram into a
few flower-pots which adorned the window of his •lodging.
He kept a minister who answered the bell and the purpose
at the same time, and was accustomed to wait at table. His
Majesty's apartment was furnished with a sort of dresser
covered with green baize, which formed a board of green
cloth ; and he bad several sticks-in-waiting in his umbrella-
stand. His robe de matin was his robe of state; he had a
green silk privy purse, and an ormolu cabinet. He bad a
keeper of the great seal, which hung to his watch ; and his
bureau comprised a secretary for the home department, in
which he kept all his washing-bills. He dispensed
with a master of the horse by keeping no horse of
his own, and be always had plenty of geMtlemen-in-waiting,
in the shape of creditors. He saved the expense of a pay-
master by paying nobody ; and though he issued Exchequer
Bills, they were not only at very long dates, but wholly
unworthy of any one's acceptance. He was his own Chan-
cellor of his own Exchequer, for he used to declare, with
much apparent integrity, that his government should never
be degraded by useless sinecures. Whenever there is
nothing to do,' Le would philosophically exclaim, I consider
it my duty to do it.' He usually resided in Sicily when he
was at home, but he kept in his court—at the back of his
lodging—a few Jerusalem artichokes, to represent the in-
terests of the other kingdom of Jerusalem. He used to make
a financial statement every now and then, for the sake of
clearing himself of his debts, which were the subject of an
annual act of which he alone got the benefit. He used upon
these occasions to profess a considerable anxiety to rub off
as he went on, but his goings on and rubbings off were
equally to his own advantage, and the cost of those who had
trusted him. Never was political economy carried to such
perfection as by the father of Margaret, the King of Sicily
and Jerusalem."
The following hit at an ancient art (the style of art
which is worshipped by Young England, and prac-
ticed by Mr. llyce), is admirable. Speaking of an an-
cient pi ce of artillery, he says :
"Its chief peculiarity was its aptitude—according to the
engravings we have seen of it—for carrying cannon-balls
considerably larger than the mouth of the piece itself;
for we have often feasted our eyes upon interesting
pictures of a cannon-ball issuing from a cannon not
half the circumference of the projected missile. Whether
it is that in those days expanding ammunition was
provided, which increased in bulk twofold after leaving the
cannon's mouth, we are unable to say at that distant period ;
but the illuminations of the time undoubtedly present this
striking, phenomenon. The dust of ages lies unfortunately
on many of our facts, and though we might, it is true, take
up a duster and wipe the dust of ages off, there is a pleasure
in the imaginative which the actual could never realise."
This description is admirably illustrated by Leech,
from a high art picture of the period.

VANITY FAIR. .21,0.
Mr. Thackersy improves as he progresses, and
"Vanity Fair" promises to be the most truthful as well
as the most caustic of modern novels. The adventures
of Miss Rebecca Sharp are continued in this number.
She is domiciled at Queen's Crawley, and has ingra-
tiated herself into the confidence of every member of the
Crawley family. Sir Pitt Crawley is a country Squire,
id est, a brute—a shrewd man, of low tastes and vulgar
habits, who kills his own mutton," or as he phrases it,
" sticks his own ships," and after the said sticking the
family live upon coarse joints of mutton served up upon
plate, until the ship is all eat up, and then, by way of
variety, a pig is killed, and they feed upon pork for a
week. Lady Crawley is a non-entity ; the Misses
Crawley (Miss Sharp's pupils) are hoydens ; and there
are two sons of Sir Pitt by a former wife—Mr. Crawley,
a saint, and Random Crawley, a roué captain in the
guards. The captain, who has a hearty antipathy for
his father, is the favourite of his maiden aunt, Miss
Crawley—a romantic cid( rly maiden, a liberal, who
reads Voltaire, and understands Rousseau. Miss Craw-
ley is always an object of great respect when she comes
to Queen's Crawley and
"She had a balance at her bankers which would have
made her beloved anywhere.
" What a dignity it gives an old lady, that balance at the
bankers! flow tenderly we look at her faults if she is a re-
lative (and may every reader have a score of such), what a
kind good-natured old creature we find her! How the junior
partner of Hobbs and Dobbs leads her smiling to the carriage
with the lozenge upon it, and the fat wheezy coachman !
How, when she conies to pay a visit, we generally find an
opportunity to let our friends know her station in the world!
We say (and with perfect truth) I wish I had Miss Mac-
Whirter's signature to a cheque for five thousand pounds.
She would'nt miss it, says your wife. She is my aunt,
say you, in an easy careless way, when your friend asks if
Miss Mac Whirter is any relative ? Your wife is perpetually
sending her little testimonials of affection, your little girls
endless worsted baskets, cushions, and footstools for her.
What a good fire there is in her room when she comes to pay
you a visit, although your wife laces her stays without one!
The house during her stay assumes a festive, neat, warm,
jovial, snug appearance not visible at other seasons. You
Yourself, clear sir, forget to go to sleep after dinner, and find
yourself all of a sudden (though you invariably lose) very
fund of a rubber. What good dinners you have—game
every day, Malmsey-Madeira, and no end of fish from
London. Even the servants in the kitchen share in the
general prosperity ; and, somehow, during the stay
of Miss Mac Whirter's fat coachman, the beer is
grown much stronger, and the consumption of tea
and sugar in the nursery (which her maid takes
her meals) is not regarded in the least. Is it so, or is not so ?
I appeal to the middle classes. Ah, gracious powers ! I wish
you would send mean old aunt—a maiden aunt with a lozenge
on her carriage, and a front of light cstfee-coloured hair—how
my children should work work-bags for her, and my Julia
and I would make her comfortable! Sweet—sweet vision !
Foolish—foolish dream !"
The family of Sir Pitt, however, are not the only
worshippers who pay homage to Miss Crawley's mammon.
Sir Pitt has a brother, te Rev. Bute Crawley, the
rector of the village, with whom, of course, he is at va-
riance. Where is the rural parish to be found in which
the squire and the parson are -.lot at variance, more
especially where they chance to be brothers?

" The Rev. Bute Crawley was a tall, stately, jolly, shovel-
hatted man, far more popular in his county than the Baronet
his brother. At college he pulled stroke-oar in the Christ-
church boat, and had thrashed all the best bruisers of the
" town." He carried his taste for boxing and athletic exer
cises into private life: there was not a fight within twenty
miles at which he was not present, nor a race, nor a coursing
match, nor a regatta, nor a ball, nor an election, nor a visita-
tion dinner, nor indeed a good dinner in the whole county,
but he found means to attend it. You might see his bay
mare and gig-lamps a score of miles away from his Rectory
House, whenever there was any dinner party at Fuddleston,
or at Roxby, or at Wapshot Hall, or at the great Lords of
the county, with all of whom he was intimate. He had a
fine voice ; sang " A southerly wind and a cloudy sky '•" and
gave the " whoop" in chorus with general applause. Ile rode
to hounds in a pepper-and-salt frock, and was one of the best
fishermen in the county.

"Mrs. Crawley, the rector's wife, was a smart little body, who
wrote this worthy divine's sermons. Being of a domestic
turn, and keeping the house a great deal with her daughters,
she ruled absolutely within the rectory, wisely giving her
husband full liberty without. He was welcome to come and
go, and dine abroad as many days as his fancy dictated, for
Mrs. Crawley was a saving woman and knew the price of
port wine. Ever since Mrs. Bute carried off the young rec-
tor of Queen's Crawley (she was a good family, daughter of
the late Lieut.-Colonel Hector MacTavish, and she and her
mother played for Bute and won him at Ilarrowgate), she
had been a prudent and thrifty wife to him. In spite of her
care, however, he was always in debt. It took him at least
tell years to pay off his college bills contracted duriag his
father's life time. In the year 179—, when he was just clear
of these incutnbrances, he gave the odds of 100 to 1 (in
twenties) against Kangaroo, who won the Derby. The rector
was obliged to take up the money at a ruinous interest, and
had been struggling ever since. His sister helped hitu with