The Sun.
London, England, 1841-09-01 00:00:00

THE SUN. LONDON. WEDNESDAY. SEPTEM3 R 1, IS4

BENTLEY'S MISCELLANY.

Not the least interesting article in the Number
belbre us is a brief biographical sketch of the
late Theodore Hook, whose sudden and unex-
pected death has left a blank in the social circle
that will not easily be filled up. We had no
idea, till we read this memoir, that Hook pos-
sessed so much versatility of talent. We all
know that he was a passable dramatist, a clever
novelist, and a wit of very considerable powers;
but we here learn that he was also an excellent
musician, and a caricaturist of no ordinary preten-
sions. No wonder that, aided by these recom-
mendations, together with a handsome person,
and mild, gentleman-like address, he was a
favourite with all classes.. " He wrote," says
his biographer, not fewer than eleven dramatic
compositions in three years ;" but they are all
long since forgotten, being the merest ephemera,
intended only tbr the passing hour. We are
assured that in his youth lie was very good-
looking, but the portrait prefixed to this Me-
moir is by no means remarkable for comeliness
of feature ; the forehead indeed is broad and in-
tellectual, but the rest of
,the countenance is
rather ordinary than otherwise. We are glad
to learn that the poetical squibs and " Rams-
bottom Letters," which be contributed from time
to time in' the John Bull, are about to be
collected and republished, for they abound
in humour, and deserve—like the Auti-Jacobin
poetry—to be remembered beyond their day.
" RiChard Savage" keeps up with undiminished
spirit. The dialogues are neat and tbrcible, and
frequently evince dramatic point. " Merrie
England in the Olden Time" is a quaint, racy
melange of humour and antiquities. The bal-
lads interspersed throughout it are lightly and
easily versified. " Ode to Taglioni" is a very
se-so affair. It is thickly studded with italics, in
order, we presume, that the jokes may not escape
the notice of the reader. Without the help of
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of the Red Man" is an episode from Mr. Coo-
per's forthcoming romance of" The Decrslayer."
Nlvtri it s t e n .
1.l graphically,reand in places, pathetically,
Smuggler's Leap" is another of
Ingoldsby's richly comic legends. As usual, it has
some touches of the supernatural, for the author's
fancy is quite as remarkable as his powers of

, . .
humour. OnPreaderB Will, no dOubt,'ll a,k us
fwe ih.s extract:—
Smuggler Bill, he looks behind,
And he sees a dun,horse•come swift as the wind,
And his nostrils smoke, aud.his eyes they blaze
Like a couple of lamps on
,a yellow post-chaise.!
Every shoe he has got
Appears red-hot,
And sparks round his ears snap, crackle, and play,
And his tail cocks up in a very odd way,.
Every hair in his main seems a porcupines quill,
And there on his back sits Exciseman Gill,
Crying " Yield thee ! now yield thee, thou Smuggler
Bill !”
Smuggler Bill, from his holster drew
A large horse pistol, of which he had two,
Made by Nock ;
He pull'd back the cock
As far as he could to the back of the lock ;
The trigger he touch'd, and the welkin rang
To the sound of the weapon, it made such a bang ;
Smuggler Bill ne'er thiss'd his aim,
The snot told true on the dun—but there came
From the hole where it enter'd, not blood, but flame !
SO lie changed his plan,
-• •And fired at'the man ;
But his second horse-pistol Ilash'd in the pan !
And Exciseman Gill, with a hearty good will,
Made a grab at'the collar of Smuggler Bill.
dapple grey mare made a desperate bound
When that queer dun-horse on her flank she found,
Alack ! and alas.l on what dangerous ground !
It is enough to make one's flesh creep
To stand on that fearful verge, and peep,
Down the rugged sides so dreadfully steep,
Where the chalk-hole yawns full sixty feet deep,
O'er which that steed •took that desperate leap I
It was so dark then under the trees,
No horse in the world could tell chalk from cheese—
])own they went—o'er that. terrible
Horses, Exciseman, Smuggler, and all ! !
Below were found
Next day on the ground,
By an elderly Gentleman walking his round,
(1 wouldn't have seen such a sight gm a pound)
All smash'd and dash'd, three mangled corses,
Two of them human, the third was a horse's,
That good dapple-grey, and Exciseinan Gill
Yet grasping the collar ofSmuggler Bill !
But where was the Dun ? that terrible Dun ?
From that terrible night he was seen by none !---
There are some people think, though I am not one,
That part of the story all nonsense and fun,
But the country-folks there
One and all declare,
When the " Crowner's 'Quest" came to sit on the pair,
They heard a loud horse-laugh up in the air I