The Sun.
London, England, 1846-10-02 00:00:00

LITERATURE.

DOMBEY and SON.

No. I. By Charles Dickens.

" Boz " never commenced a work with so much of
glorious promise as the present. Even the illustrious
picture of Mr. Pickwick gazing from his lodging
window, when " before him was Goswell-street, if he
looked to the right there was Goswell-street, if he
looked to the left there was Goswell-street," is
nothing in comparison. The deathbed in the work-
house depicted in the opening pages of "Oliver
Twist;" the eccentric genealogy with which " Ni-
cholas Nickleby" is begun ; the first visit to the " Old
Curiosity Shop ;" the preliminary evening at the
Maypole, in Barnaby Rudge ;" and the famous
chase of the dead leaves, with which " Martin
Chuzzlewit" is commenced, and with which Seth
Peckniff is introduced, possessed nothing comparable
to the promise given by this inimitable introduction to
" Dealings with the Firm of Dombey and Son,
Wholesale, Retail, and for Exportation." The story
is written in that same style of simplicity and natural-
ness which has acquired for Mr. Dickens a celebrity
such as, in the hack but expressive phrase, "the world
will not willingly let die.' Again, there is the same
combination of the most subtle and moving pathos
with the most fantastic and sunny wit, which has
rendered the works of this admirable writer such
universal favourites. Charles Dickens, as ,an Irish-
man would say, always writes " with a heart and a
half." This single number of 4. Dombey and Son"
would be alone sufficient to explain our meaning, from
that touching death scene in the first chapter,
where Mrs. Dombey expires while clasping her young
child to her bosom, and "thus, clinging to that slight
spar within her arms, the mother drifted out upon
the dark and unknown sea that rolls round all the
world," to that beautiful scene between the nurse and
Florence. Beyond this, "Boz" has a noble habit of
availing himself of any and every opportunity of in-
veighing against abuses, whether public or private.
How cutting is that side-sarcasm at the dispro-
portionate promotions in the sea service, where he
describes a certain elderly gentleman as having paid
" house-rent, taxes, rates, and dues for more years
than many a full-grown midshipman; and midship-
men who have attained a pretty green old age have
not been wanting in the English navy!" Many
"characters" of singular originality are already in-
troduced in these four chapters ; foremost among
which are Dombey himself and his newly-born Son;
the latter of whom is placed close to the fire, " as if
his constitution were analogous to that of a muffin,
and it was essential to toast him brown, while he was
very new.". Miss Tox promises! to be the best
maiden lady of an unknown age ever portrayed by
Boz. From the furry articles which she wore in
winter, "as tippits, boas, and muffs, which stood
upon end in a rampant manner, and were not at all
sleek," to the "small bags with snaps to them, that
went off like little pistols when they were shut up,"
and which bags the said Miss Tox was accustomed to
carry, the likeness is drawn to the very life, to the
very hair indeed. From Mr. Chick, again, " a stout
bald gentleman, with a very large face, and his hands
continually in his pockets," who has acquired such a
habit of whistling and huMming to himself, that on
the most melancholy occasions he is constantly burst-
ing in with a " Right tol loor rul," or a " Rump -te-
iddity, bow-wow-wow !" we may expect intolerable
amusement. The " apple-faced family," otherwise
called the Toodles, is richly described, even to the
smallest Toodle, who on the flight of his mother
"immediately began swarming up stairs after her on
his arms and legs." Miss Nipper is an improvement
on Tilly Slowboy of illustrious memory ; she is spoken
of as "so desperately sharp and biting that she
seemed to make one's eyes water." Here, however,
is a description of a nondescript nautical character,
named Captain Cuttle—and an exquisitely ridiculous
description it is too.
" But an addition to the little party now made its ap-
pearance, in the shape of a gentleman in a wide suit of
blue, with a hook instead of a hand attached to his right
wrist ; very bushy black eyebrows ; and a thick stick'in
his left hand, covered all over (like his nose) with knobs.
He wore a loose black silk handkerchief round his neck,
and such a very large coarse shirt collar, that it looked
like a small sail. He was evidently the person for whom
the spare wine-glass was intended, and evidently knew
it ; for having taken off his rough outer coat, and hung
up, on a particular peg behind the door, such a hard
glazed hat as a sympathetic person's head might ache at
the sight of, and which left a red rim round his forehead
as if he had been wearing a tight basin, he brought a
chair to where the clean glass was, and sat himself down
behind it. He was usually addressed as Captain, this
visitor ; and had been a pilot, or a skipper, or a pri-
vateers man, or all three perhaps; and was a very salt-
looking man indeed."
Here, by way of a companion quotation, is one of
those pictures of a London locality in which Mr.
Dickens is so wonderfully successful.
" Mr. Dombey's house was a large one, on the shady
side of a tall, dark, dreadfully genteel street in the re-
gion between Portland-place and Bryanstone-square.
It was a corner house, with great wide areas containing
cellars frowned upon by barred windows, and leered at
by crooked-eyed doors leading to dustbins. It was a
house of dismal state, with a circular back to it, contain-
ing a whole suit of drawing-rooms looking upon a gra-
velled yard, where two gaunt trees, with blackened
trunks and branches, rattled rather than rustled, their
leaves were so smoke-dried. The summer sun was never
on the street, but in the morning about breakfast time,
when it came with the water-carts and the old clothes-
men, and the people with geraniums, and the umbrella-
mender, and the man who trilled the little bell of the
Dutch clock as he went along. It was soon gone again
to return no more that day ; and the bands of music
and the straggling Punch's shows going after it, left it a
prey to the most dismal of organs, and white mice ; with
now and then a porcupine, to vary the entertainments ;
until the butlers whose families were dining out, began
to stand at the house doors in the twilight, and the
lamplighter made his nightly failure in attempting to
brighten up the street with gas.
"It was as blank a house inside as outside. When
the funeral was over, Mr. Dombey ordered the furniture
to be covered up—perhaps to preserve it for the son with
whom his plans were all associated—and the rooms to
be ungarnished, saving such as he retained for himself
on the ground-floor. Accordingly mysterious shapes
were made of tables and chairs, heaped together in the
middle of rooms, and covered over with great winding-
sheets. Bell-handles, window-blinds, and looking-
glasses, being papered up in journals, daily and weekly,
obtruded fragmentary accounts of deaths and dreadful
murders. Every chandelier or lustre, muffled in hol-
land, looked like a monstrous tear depending from the
ceiling's eye. Odours, as from vaults and damp places,
came out of the chimneys. The dead and buried lady
was awful in a picture-frame of ghastly bandages.
Every gust of wind that rose, brought edying round the
corner from the neighbourning mews, some fragments of
the straw that had been strewn before the house, when
she was ill, mildewed remains of which were still cleav-
ing to the neighbourhood ; and these, being always
drawn by some invisible attraction to the threshold of
the dirty house to let immediately opposite, addressed a
dismal eloquence to Mr. Doinhey's windows."
Phiz is the illustrator, and admirably does he embody
the limnings of Boz; the two etchings in the present
number are capital. We are rejoiced to see Phiz
still retained as the draughtsman to Dickens ; we are
rejoiced to see a new work by Boz appearing from
month to month in the old green covers, and heartily
join with the nephew of old Solomon Gills in wishing
" Success to Dombey—and Son—and Daughter !"

A TOUR TO AND FROM VENICE. By Louisa

Stuart Costello.

Often as Venice has been written about and painted
on canvass, eulogised in the canzonets of the gondo-
liers, and landed in the metres of poesy, this beautiful
volume by Miss Costello comes upon us with a pecu-
liar freshness, and fascinates us as though it were the
description of some newly-discovered fairy-land.
Those who have never visited this city of palaces in
the Adriatic, possess, nevertheless, some ideal of its
appearance and general character. Since the days
when the mysterious Council of Ten ruled its desti-
nies, when the Doge went forth with exceeding pomp
to marry the billows by which his dominions were
surrounded, and when the prisoners of that mercan-
tile principality languished beneath the leads of the
Bridge of Sighs, the vision of this extraordinary city
has elicited the admiration of the people of all other
nations. And beyond its own intrinsic attractions,
Venice has been invested with a thousand extrinsic
and admirable associations. Bassanio and Shy-
lock, Othello and Desdemona have equally,
imparted to it a novel and remarkable in-
terest. Stanfield's pencil has conveyed to the
stranger some adequate impression of its mag-
nificence. The verse of Rogers has afforded some
conception of its pristine glory. The dramas of
Byron have revealed many of the darkest incidents of
its history. Since Napoleon closed its existence as
an independent state, thousands have reverted to those
periods of its career in which its wealth and dignity
were predominant throughout a considerable portion
of Europe. That " golden wand of commerce"
which Washington Irving has beautifully portrayed,
as grasped during many years " in the failing hand
of Italy," was virtually the sceptre of the Venetian
Doges; and since the relinquishment of that sceptre,
the power of the sea Cybele has disappeared. When
we recall to our recollection the vigour of its Govern-
ment, the opulence of its citizens, the multitude of its
visitors, the splendour of its beneficent victories, and
the extent to which its proceedings influenced even the
most remote kingdoms, we cannot but think that
Lady Morgan selected no very extravagant sobriquet
in christening Venice " the Rome of the ocean ;" and,
remembering all these things, we can never induce
ourselves to believe that too much has already been
written descriptive of its appearance. Much twaddle
we are conscious has been devoted to the subject of
Venice. Many tourists have penned nonsense by the
chapter anent Venice, and have unhappily " found it
in their hearts to bestow all their tediousness " upon
Dogberry did of yore to Leonato. But
the egopoudble i, as
books,
upon the same theme, we have not yet
had a surfeit—an
d many good books have been writ-
ten upon it nevertheless. Miss Costello has here ad-
ventured upon a pilgrimage, every inch of , which has
been worn by the footsteps of a myriad preceding
pilgriins, She describes scenes which have already

been a thousand times described. She enters a field
which has already been traversed by a horde of
Industrious gleaners. Notwithstanding all this, how-
ever, the volume before us is eminently stidcestful.
By its production the authoress has enhanced the name
which she had previously acquired in litera-
ture ; and has entitled herself to the gratitude
of her readers. The pages sparkle with a most
delightful animation, the narrative is peculiar
for its picturesque elegance, historical remi-
nicenses are introduced without effort and always to
the embellishment of the text, appropriate anecdotes
and sentiments are scattered through the chapters,
and the whole work bears the aspect of a panorama
skilfully arranged and delicately coloured. Miss
Costello's volume on Venice is, altogether, a charming
and clever performance.

THE WORKS OF' G. T. R. JAMES. Vol. IX.

DARNLEY.

So remarkable is the popularity of this historical
romance about " The Field of the Cloth of Gold,"
and so generally are its excellencies appreciated, that
we need scarcely adventure upon any investigation
of its literary merits. The admirers of Mr. James will
rejoice at such a republication of one of his very best
productions, especially as the typography, the embel-
lishment, the binding, and the compactness of the
whole volume, are so excellent.

PAUL FITZ-HENRY. A Narrative. By Henry

John Thornton.

Three volumes octavo fiave—be come so much the
habitual dimensions of a fiction now-a-days, that we
are almost grateful to any one who has the audacity
to break through the general habit. Variety is
pleasing in literature as elsewhere, and hence it
is possible that we derive any satisfaction whatever
from so small an innovation. We recur, however to
the times when a tale in a single volume was not un-
fashionable; when "Rasselas" was not unacceptable,
when the " Vicar of Wakefield" was admitted into
society, whether hot-pressed or not, and when it
mattered little that " Robinson Crusoe" had no
twin volume. The present story is the con-
densation of what might have been extended
threefold without any marvellous diminution of
interest. Of its general character and scene
some more adequate conception may be formed
from its second title—"A few weeks in Paris." Al-
though the outline of the plot is not remarkable for
novelty, Mr. Thornton has yet arranged his mate-
rials so skilfully as to have written a very pleasant
and agreeable "Narrative."

KNIGHT'S WEEKLY VOLUME—Nos. CVL
and CVIL BACON AND HIS WRITINGS—
Vol. 11. CABINET PORTRAIT GALLERY

—Vol. IX.

In publishing works of this solid and instructive
character in so portable a form, and at so moderate a
price, Mr. Charles Knight is increasing the debt of
gratitude already owing to him by the public. As a
caterer to the intellect of the people, no publisher has
evinced more sagacity in discrimination, or more en-
terprise in the development of his literary projects.
The little volumes of which the present form the con-
tinuation are a sufficient testimony of this fact.
Anything that can tend to the dissemination of the
knowledge of such a vast genius as that of Lord
Bacon among the multitude must be welcomed as a
boon to humanity. The wisdom of that great sage
is calculated so wonderfully to expand the mind of
its reader that it is lamentable to reflect upon
the circumstance that the writings of Bacon
are published only in such a costly manner
as to render them almost inaccessible to a large
proportion of the population. The volumes of
this series may be regarded as the first step towards
the supplying of this deficiency. Shakspere's dramas
are printed and vended at a price which is reasonable
to the most moderate incomes, and the speculation
is found to be remunerative. Why should not
some similar movement be made to popularise
our philosophers as well as our poets ?
Lord Foppington, in " The Trip to Scarborough,"
prized his library, like a true numskull, because of
its handsome bindings and elegant typography. The
humble classes, however, are ready to look more to
the oyster than to the shell: they would prize a
standard work, covered with brown paper, more than
a silly one in gilding and morocco. Publishers
should ponder these things. Among the biographies
contained in this number of the "Cabinet Portrait
Gallery" are many of eminence. Algernon Sidney,
the patriot, who inscribed himself, in an album at
Copenhagen, inimica tyrannis : Thomas Sydenham,
the most memorable of English physicians; Robert
Boyle, one of our noblest philosophers, both by birth
and intellect ; Henry Purcell, the most wonderful,
possibly, of all our native musicians, and others of
lesser greatness. The letter-press is illustrated by
characteristic engravings.

THE SQUIRE'S DAUGHTER. A Tragedy. By

Andrew Park.

This is the most hazardous adventure ever under-
taken by Mr. Park. Hitherto he had contented himself
with the production of an opera, " the Mariners ;" a
didactic poem, " Blindness ;" and a variety of
lyrical and fugitive pieces. In this he has boldly
attempted a five- act tragedy, than which, as he
well observes in his preface, " there is not anything
in literature so difficult of accomplishment." We
cannot think that the endeavour has proved trium-
phant. There are, undoubtedly, passages of consi-
derable energy, and others of no little elegance ; but,
on the whole, there is a want of that sustained dignity
avid pathos which can alone constitute a successful
tragedy. Many low characters and mean sentiments
are introduced, which entirely mar the effect of the
plot, and jar in upon the interest. Whenever Shak-
spere interpolates a comic character or incident in his
tragedies, he does so with such consummate art that
the grandeur of the principal characters and incidents
is actually enhanced thereby. The gravediggers in
_Hamlet render the mournfulness of the Danish
Prince's meditations in the churchyard still more
affecting by contrast. Osric, again, elicits a new
phase of the mind of Hamlet. The jests of the fool
in Lear impart a more solemn air of desolation to the
miseries of that " old, mad king." This, however,
results from a peculiar genius for the drama, which
genius Mr. Park does not possess.

HINTS ON ANGLING. By Palmer Hackle, Esq.
Piscator will revel over a book so thoroughly
worthy of " the gentle craft" as this, by Palmer
Hackle, Esq. It condenses a whole library of in-
formation into the compass of 339 pages, and this
without being superficial upon any one given topic.
The author has evidently entered upon his labours
with a gusto; nevertheless, with all his enthusiasm,
he never forgets that his principal office is to he
practical. His work will prove as useful as it is de-
lightful, as fraught with wholesome advice as with
agreeable reflections. Those who love the craft of
angling will find a singular fund of information in
the lucubrations of Palmer Hackle; those who love
to sit with Izaak Walton under a woodbine hedge
while a shower is passing over, will delight in many
passages from the pen of the said Palmer Hackle.
Charles Cotton would have listened to his voice with
pleasure, and, seeing that there are hundreds of
Charles Cottons in existence, our author is tolerably
secure of becoming a general favourite.

NOTES ON THE EPIDEMIC CHOLERA.
By R. Hartley Kennedy, M.D., late Physician-Genera
and President of the Medical Board, Bombay. Second
Edition.
The first edition of this work, published in 1826,
has long since been considered a medical classic. It
is the authority on the subject on which it treats, and
Dr. Kennedy has conferred an obligation on the
public and the professsion by the publication of this
reprint of it.

REWARDS FOR STARVATION.—The Dunmow Agri-
cultural Society have been giving away what they call
" rewards for virtue." We think them rewards for the
peacefulness of hunger. For instance;—" To the widow
of a labourer in husbandry who had brought up the
largest family with the least parochial relief, was de-
voted a scarlet cloak; and to the second in degree was
presented a wash-tub and cloth es-basket." Thus it is
something to see, through the vista of long years of po-
verty and privation, the promised glory of a scarlet
cloak! A capital plan, too, on the part of the society, to
serve hunger like a whale, and " throw a tub" to it.
" To the married couple, the labourer and wife, who had
brought up the greatest number of children with little or
no parochial relief, was given, not a flitch of bacon, as
was formerly the case, but a gammon thereof." We think
the " gammon" peculiarly significant. It offers, too, a
delicious illustration of the charity of the Dunmow So-
ciety, for truly these rewards are gammon—all gammon
—and nothing but gammon.—Punch.
LONDON MECHANICS' INSTITUTE, SOUTHAMPTON-
BUILDINGS.—Last evening a special general meeting of
m( tubers was held in the Theatre of the Mechanics' In-
stitute, to receive the report of the building committee
respecting the late alterations that have been made in
the building. Mr. Vallentine having been called to the
chair, Mr. Wood read the report, which stated that an
enlarged reading-room had been constructed. The
library, committee, and apparatus rooms had been re-
moved, and the several departments mentioned had been
finished, and furnished for 3821. 13s. Bd., which left of
the building fund raised a balance of 91. Amongs the
snbscribers were Lord Brougham, 251. ; Lord Dudley
Coutts Stuart, 5/. ; Lord Kinnaird, Si. ; Lord Clarendon,
51. ; Christopher Davy, Esq., 101. lOs. ; Richard Taylor,
Esq., 51. ; and Thomas Birkbeck, Esq., 5/. Upon the
motion of Mr. Smythe the report was adopted, after
which and votes of thanks to the building committee, the
subscribers, and the chairman, the meeting separated.
TROOPS FOR IRELAND.—PORTSMOUTH, OCT. 1..—
The Government having determined on increasing the
military force in Ireland, the Admiralty have received
instructions to send a battalion of marines thither. Two
hundred men will be sent from each of the four divisions,
with a lieutenant colonel to command them. The Dee,
Rhadamanthus, and other steam transports will be em-
ployed in conveying the troops. Captains Evans and
Elliott, with four subalterns, are to accompany the de-
tachment from the Portsmouth division.

i MAGAZINES.,-(CONTINUED).
BENTLEY.

The present number opens with the seventeenth
chapter of Maxwell's novel of " Brian O'Linn," and
then We have " The Corso of Naples," a continuation
of those graphic pictures of Neapolitan society, which
have of late appeared in this magazine. This-is fol-
lowed by a Latin lyric (which we transcribe) de-
scriptive of the cholera morbus

CHOLERA MORBUS CLASSICUS.
Magnus ventro dolor,
Nullus in ore color,
Dum languescit vultus ;
Sanguis triste fluit,
Dum sine more ruit,
Sulky passim multus.
Cor torpore dolet,
Spiritus asper olet,
Angor torquet dorsum ;
Dentes usque fremunt.
Pallida labra tremunt,
Et detrectant morsum.

Noctes atque dies
Est tibi nulla quies,
Duram luges sortern ;
Dicit morbus ibi,
Tempus abire tibi,
Nunc arcesso mortem.

The literary retrospect of the departed consists of
some clever sketches of " little great" literary people
of a quarter of a century since. Miss Benger and
Lady Caroline Lamb, and poor Upcott, that most
indefatigable collector of literary curiosities, who, if
his digestion had been equal to his appetite, would
have been a first-rate historian; and Cuvier, whose
intellect, vast as it is universally acknowledged to have
been, was yet surpassed by his kindness, whose heart
was ever larger than his head, are here sketched from
the life. We see them before us as they walked, and
talked, and moved, and had their being. Then comes
"The Pony Club," a fearful legend of the backwoods
of America—of those regions where the only justice
known is Mr. Justice Lynch ; and after that we have
an amusing account of the adventures of an English
traveller at Pyrmont, before Pyrmont had fallen into
" the seer and yellow leaf." Dr. W. C. Taylor gives
us two papers, one on the sayings and doings of Nasir-
Ed-Din-Khojah, the Turkish Joe Miller, as he calls
him, but rather, as we should say, the Turkish
Hierocles,T inasmuch as there is matter for thought in
all his jests, and the other on " The Dissolution of
the Monasteries," an able review of that portion of
the letters of the monarchs of England, recently pub-
lished by Sir H. Ellis, which relates to the reign of
Henry VIII. This paper is illustrated by a well-
engraved portrait of the bluff King Harry,
from the original portrait in St. Bartholomew's Hos-
pital. The Flaneur in Paris continues his amusing
sketches of Parisian life, and Miss Costello, in her
Legendary Towns and Cities, illustrates the topo-
graphy and local history of Gloucester and of Ciren-
cester. A continuation of the paper on " Doncaster,
its Sports and Saturnalia," and a quaintly told legend
of the Folly Tower at, Clifton, by Albert Smith,
complete the number of Bentley for the present
month, which contains much amusing light reading.