The Sun.
London, England, 1846-06-15 00:00:00

LITERATURE.

THE RANSOM ; a Tule of the Thirteenth Century.
By Miss Laura Lewry.
In the family of Philip Pounciforth Duncombe, Esq.,
of Brickbill Manor, Bucks, is preserved a strange and
beautiful tradition. Sir Gerard Pounciforth, a gallant
gentleman, who went to the Holy Wars, was, along with
one of his companions, made prisoner by a Saracen
Emir. The infidel told first Sir Gerard's comrade, and
then Sir Gerard himself, that they should have their
liberty for a very slight sum, provided they would main-
tain in every tilt and tourney that Zobeida, his daughter,
was more beautiful than all the women of the west.
The first knight, Edmond Fitzwalter, acquiesced in
these ignoble terms ; but by Sir Gerard they were re-
jected. The Emir then furiously declared that the
refractory warrior should not go free if he promised not
to uphold in the games of chivalry, that the Saracen
ladies in general (fur he would have him for his
daughter's champion) were superior to those of Europe.
" Thinkest thou," answered the captive scornfully,
"that the knight lives who would thus insult the lights
of chivalry—the matchless wives and daughters of
Europe, by ranking them beneath thy harem slaves ?
Saracen, thou ravest." " Dog of a misbeliever," ex-
claimed the enraged chief, " dost thou beard me thus?
Nay, then, by Allah! I will take no ransom for thee,
save one which shall put thy boasted beauties to the test.
Either she whom thou lovest shall ransom thee with her
own white hand, or thou shalt wither out thy prime of
manhood in a dungeon!" Such was the barbarous con-
dition. to the brave maiden of those heroic

times, whose lily hand submitted to the sharpness of the
axe to rescue her betrothed, and to justify the con-
fidence and requite the love of Christian knighthood!
And honour to Miss Lewry who has beautifully told so
beautiful a tale!

ROAD REFORM. By William Pagan.
One of the greatest auxiliaries to the spirit of civi-
lisation is a well-modelled system of communicaticn
among the populace of an empire and between the
several nations of a continent. This truth is so notorious
and indisputable as to have grown into a proverb.
What the veins and arterial ramifications in the human
structure are to the circulation of the blood, highways
and bye-lanes are to the prosperity of internal or inter-
national commerce. Deprive a country of roads or a
city of thoroughfares, either by obliteration or obstruc-
tion, and the immediate consequences are a stagnation
of every wholesome or enterprising spirit in the com-
munity. The whole fabric of artificial life is deranged;
the channels for nourishment are blocked up; the social
irrigation is annulled, and the population wither away
from very inactivity, or from the stoppage of their
bodily sustenance. As well might we revert to the
period

" Wheu wild in woods the noble savage ran."

Those great conquerors of the ancient world, the
Romans, were conscious of this exigency; and that they
were so the debris of their vast roads of granite in our
own country sufficiently attest even up to the present
moment. What, however, was advisable for them is
absolutely essential for us, now that the population is
so wonderfully increased, and that commerce is so mar.
vellously extended. To us a rapid and commodious
transit is everything; without the canals and the high-
ways, which cover England as with a network of com-
munication, we should literally cease to exist as a na-
tion, if not as individuals. Railways, however, are
gradually monopolizing the traffic in goods and passen-
gers between our principal cities ; and doubtless, in the
lapse of time, branch lines will extend to the less fre-
quented corners of the land, drawing the dwellers
in towns and villages, and even hamlets, into im-
mediate intercourse with their fellow-countrymen
elsewhere. Until, however, this possibility becomes
an actuality, the cross-roads by which Great Britain is
so profusely intersected will continue in existence and
will continue to be used. The system by which they
are preserved and regulated will consequently subsist for
a considerable time, and to a certain extent will always
remain a matter of serious interest to the community.
That abuses of various descriptions are incorporated
with that system no one can doubt for a moment who
has travelled fifty miles over English ground. Mr. Pagan
is animated with a feeling of genuine and disinterested
hostility to these abuses ; he recognises much incon-
gruity in the manner in which funds are raised for the
preservation of these highways, and his anxiety to
benefit his countrymen by an exposure of
the present system, and the substitution of
one more rations,' has embodied itself in the
volume before -us. We are not prepared to ana-
lyse the whole bearing of his proposition—namely, the
levying of a rate upon horses in lieu of the turnpike toils
—but as far as a hurried investigation will enable us to
form an opinion, the proposition appears to be just and
feasible. Our author occasionally enlivens his pages
with humourous remarks and appropriate anecdotes ;
and in his detestation of turnpikes as tyrannous obstruc-
tions to commerce, he appears to coincide with Mr.
Weller, sen , in " Pickwick," that their keepers " are
all on 'em men as has met with some disappointment in life.
Consequence of which they retires from the world, and shuts
themselves up in pikes, partly with the view of being soli-
tary, and partly to revenge themselves on mankind by taking
tolls." Mr. Pagan's plan of " Road Reform " demands
the highest consideration.

MY DREAM, AND OTHER POEMS. By S.
and C. Hersee (sisters).
This is a very modest and unassuming little work, and
we like it the better from its simplicity. The preface
effectually disarms criticism. The young authoresses,
full of diffidence and anxiety for this their first work, in
its " present perilous position," thus forcibly and ele-
gantly express the moderate character of their ambi-
tion. " Many beautiful flowers shed their brightness
and odour on the pathway of the literary world, but the
simplest wild flowers have their homely uses ; we ven-
ture therefore to hope ours will not at once be cast
aside to perish, though far too unimportant to be placed
among the cultivated blossoms.' "Simple Wild
Flowers" is a most appropriate term for these poems.
They are a wreath of early spring blossoms, whose
charm lies in their freshness and their absence of all
art. Without any peculiar merit of metre or composi-
tion, they please by the kindly feeling that pervades the
whole, and the playful fancy which enlivens it. In the
first and longest poem we have the following correct
definition of a dream :
"Yet there are thoughts that grow intensely deep—
They yield not e'en to Death's twin •spirit, sleep,
But struggle forth from chaos, till the theme
Of waking fancy is a vivid dream."