The Sun.
London, England, 1841-07-01 00:00:00

excellent account, and furnish us with a tale such as we
"do not often meet with now-a-days. The present chap-
ters of " Guy Fawkes," are an improvement on the last ;
but the story halts too often. "An Apology for Noses"
is a clever, rhymed bagatelle, illustrated by an engraving
which exhibits a proboscis of the dimensions of an Irish
bludgeon'. Sterne's Slaukenbergius would have envied
the possessor of such an enormity. ~" Merrie England in
the Olden Times" contains several oLe ballads, re-.
markable for the ease and ingenuity o it rhymes. The
" Undertaker's Song," in particular, is humorous and ec-
centric enough to have been written by O'Keefe. In
" Tim Hogan's Ghost," the rich broad humour of fami-
liar Irish dialogue is brought out with excellent effect.
" Excursions at Home and Abroad" alludesjustly and
pertinently, to the restless, vagabondising propensities of
John Bull, who insists on seeing all that is to be seen
in the Old World and the New, for no other purpose than
to gratify his spleen, and grumble at his own silly curio-
sity, " Azenor,- the Pale" is a simple French ballad,
paraphrased by Miss Costello with skill and elegance.
" County Legends" is one of Ingoldsby's most successful
essays. It is light and airy, and replete, as usual, with
arch allusions to the mummeries of the old Catholic
Church. A fierce English Crusader has had the misfor-
tune to break his foot-page's head, twist his wife's neck
like a worm, and cut an offending Prior into four quar-
ters. For these crimes he seeks absolution from the
Pope, who cheerfully accords it him, till he learns that he
has slaughtered a son of Mother Church. Then his Holi-
ness is all righteous indignation, as will be seen by the
subjoined extract, with which wa close our notice of the
Miscellany :
" Now nay, Holy Father, now nay!
Less penance may serve !" quoth Sir Ingoldsby Bray.
" No champion free of the Cross waa he ;
No belted Baron of high degree ;
No Knight nor Squire
Did there expire ; ,
He was I trow, but a bar;-footed Friar !
And the Abbot of Abingdon long may wait
With his monks around him, and early and late
May lookfrom loop-hole, and turret, and gate,
bath lost his Prior—his Prior his pate !"
Now Thunder and turf ! " Pope Gregory said,
And his hair raised his triple crown right off his head—
" Now Thunder and turf ! and out and alas,
A horrible thing has come to pass!!
What I—cut off the head of a reverend Prior,
And say he was only (1! !) a bare-footed Friar !'---
What Baron or Squire,
Or Knight of the shire
Is half so good as a holy Friar ?'
0, turpissime !
Vir nequissime !
Seder atissinte —quissime !_issinte
Never, I trow, have the Se; vi servorum
:lad before 'em
Such a breach of decorum,
Such a gross violation of »torum benorunz,
And won't have again Seecula sceculorum !
Come hither to me,
My Cardinals three,
My Bishops in partibus,
Masters in Artibus,
Hither to me, A.B. and D.D.
Doctors and Proctors of every degree !
Go fetch me a book !—go fetch me a bell
As big as a dustman's—and a candle as well—
I'll send him—where good manners won't let me tell !"
"—Pardon and grace !—now pardon and grace !"
Sir Ingoldsby Bray fell flat on his fece— _
" Med culpa I—in sooth I'm in pitiful case !
Peccavi ! peccavi !—l've done very wrong ;
But ray heart it i
is stout, and my arm it s strong,
And I'll fight for holy Church all the day long ;
And the Ingoldsby lands are broad and fair,
And they're here, and they're there, and I cant 't tell you where,
And holy Church shall come in for her share '
Pope Gregory paused, and he sat himself down,
And he somewhat relaxed his terrible frown,
And his Cardinals three they pick'd up his crown.
" Now, if it be se that you own 3 ou've been wrong,
And your heart is so stout, and you arm isso strong,
And you really will fight, ike a trump all day long;—
If the Ingoldsby lands do lie here and there,
And holy Church shall come in for her share,—
Why, my Cardinals three,
You'll agree
With me,
That it gives a new turn to the whole affair,
And I think that the Penitent need not despair !