The Sun.
London, England, 1846-11-02 00:00:00

BENTLEY'S MISCELLANY.

Bentley opens this month with the first chapter of
a new novel by Cooper, entitled " Captain Spike ; or
the Islets of the Gulf." The scene is laid in America
in the present day, and in the opening chapter we
have an account of the sailing of Captain Spike in
his good ship Molly Swash, from Manhattan. The
S wash is a suspicious sort of craft, which has in
former days been employed as a privateer, and Cap-
tain Spike himself seems to be more of a smuggler and
pirate than of a regular trader. His mate, Mulford, is
evidently intended to be the lover of the tale, and the
heroine, Rose Budd, is, with her aunt, embarked in
the Molly Swash. The crew are rough and ready,
and old Josh, the negro steward, is the " funny"
man, at least of this chapter. The Molly Swash, in
sailing through the passage of " Hell Gate," is pur-
sued by a boat containing two men, whose approach
it is evident Captain Spike has some reason to dread,
and in endeavouring to avoid them, he runs his vessel
upon the Pot rock. We are glad to meet
with Cooper at sea once - more. It is his
native element, and even in this single chapter he has
managed so to enlist the interest of the reader, that
having once begun it, it is impossible to lay it down
until the whole has been devoured. Maxwell continues
his " Brian O'Linn," and the " Flaneur " his Recol-
lections of Paris. The Faubourg St. Germain is the
subject of his present paper, and admirably does be
sketch the characteristics, physical and moral, of the
old aristocracy, who since the revolution of 1830
have voluntarily relegated themselves to that quarter.
The process of amalgamation, however, is rapidly
going on ; the poverty of these proud, but poor ex-
clusives, forces them to wink at the mesalliances which
their children contract with the rich Bourgeoisie of
the other side the river, and ere twenty years are past,
the ancienne noblesse will be extinct as a social class.
They are bigoted without being religious, and their
morality is of that peculiar character which dis-
tinguished the Court of Louis XIV., or that of our own
Charles 11. ; but their society is the most delightful
in the world.

" In no society in Paris is that light, frothy, cham-
pagne-like essence, called French fashionable chit-chat,
bandied backwards and forwards in such lively and witty
battledoor banter, as in this. It is as different from its
- -• • —•— ..11., •
countries, as light French wines are"Traiiiritgastl`b9SWlT
stout. Some there are. who may prefer the latter ; but
still even they must own that it is heavy. To attain to
the necessary perfection in this most glittering orna-
ment of good French society it is required to be alive to
everything passing—to be ignorant of nothing, past,
present, and future—to touch lightly upon all subjects
with ready versatility, and as lightly let it fall again—to
find the right word for every thought, for every circum-
stance, for every feeling, for every shade of rank or po-
sition (and the word chosen must be sharp as a needle's
point, if it be not expected to recoil back upon its utterer
with all the heaviness of its bluntness)—to err not in the
slightest shade—to skim gently over the whole surface,
and yet in skimming catch the cream. And nowhere is
this perfection attained in so eminent a degree as in the
salons, where men and women can causer of the society
of the Faubourg St. Germain—nowhere has this rapid
flitting of witty conversation, this ease and grace in
flattery and repartee—this babble so smooth, and yet so
cutting, so light, and yet, in the materials necessary for
its fabrication, so solid, so heterogeneously and yet so
nicely compounded, appear to have been so complete a
study, and with such successful results, all unstudied as
it appears. Are little children taught to converse as
they are taught to learn grammar? We almost might
suppose so, to see what masters they are in the art, when
they are grown up."
Alfred Crowquill discourses pleasantly upon a
subject which, as Christmas approaches, is to many,
persons anything but pleasant, " The Little Ac-
count ;" and W. Jerdan gives us a pleasant comedy
of errors arising from the circumstance of Lords
Yarborough, Harborough, and Scarborough being
once upon a time all located in the same hotel. He
entitles it " Titular Confusion ; the Borough-title
Terminus." We have a very graphic account of the
ceremony of "Taking the. Veil" at Naples, by the
author of " Italian Scenes." It is valuable, as sbow-
ing the light in which the educated and polished
classes in Catholic countries look upon these cere-
monies. In this instance, the nun was of a noble
family. The elite of the beau monde of Naples at-
tended the ceremony as they would have attended an
opera or any other spectacle. During its progress
the Papal Nuncio who officiated made audible com-
plaints of the draught of cold air from the grating of
the convent to which he was exposed, and requested
the abbess to have the doors and windows closed, and
to hasten the toilet of the new nun, and at its con-
clusion the invited guests assembled in the hall of the
convent :
" This was a complete morning soiree, in which all
was done on the most liberal and handsome scale,
nothing could be more recherche, or more profuse, than
the refreshments that were handed round every instant;
ices, jellies, creams, cakes, bonbons, every imaginable
species of sweetmeat was there, in a style that would
have shamed many a ball room. To my astonishment,
there was even punch a la Romaine, a fact which went
far to prove to me that the nuns were much less igno
rant of the ways of the world than I had imagined. The
reunion was now all vivacity and animation, the society
had amalgamated, the ladies appllrently determined to
make up for the silence of the preceding two hours,
laughed, and sipped ices, and chattered with inimitable
rapidity; the cavalieri on their part were all gallantry
and attention, while two or three went round the circle,
presenting every one with a little brochure of compli
mentary verses addressed to the nun, which had been as
usual composed and printed for the occasion; I glanced
over them, and saw that they were in the same strain as
the predica, a recapitulation of the Epitkalamium, in
rhyme. Suddenly the usual cannonade of petards was
fired off, before the convent gates, stunning us, like a
park of artillery, filling the whole room with smoke, and
silencing every one, and everything, for the moment ;
but it was only for the moment, for no sooner was it
over when the noise of tongues and glasses began again.
It was nearly one o'clock, and no one seemed disposed to
move till the nuncio's equipage drove up to the steps,
when he rose, and as the sposa stooped to kiss his hand,
he presented her with a beautiful silver crucifix, which
he requested her to keep as a memoria, and then he bid
adieu to the abbess and the rest."
Albert Smith puts in a pleasant plea for Boulogne,
between which and Margate, Ramsgate and Brighton,
he draws a comparison more after the manner of
"Doti' than of Plutarch ; and Dr. W. C. Taylor gives
us a " Biographical Sketch of Sarah, first Duchess
of Marlborough," a portrait of whom, engraved by
Cook, from the original picture by Sir Godfrey
ICneller, at present in the gallery at Althorp, illus-
trates this number. The other illustrations are by
Leech—the first, a scene from Cooper's new novel of
" Captain Spike ;" the second, a scene from " Brian
O'Linn."