The Sun.
London, England, 1833-01-01 00:00:00

FRASER'S MAGAZINE.

If Oliver Yorke, the nom de guerre of the
Editor of this Magazine, would show himself
less desirous to wear, as his Sunday best, the
coat which old Christopher North has already
wore threadbare, we think the interest of his

publication would be materially benefited. Bu

at present he deals too profusely in the second-
hand flippancy of Blackwood, which with amaz-
ing power of assurance, he boldly sports as his

_ .
own. This is a pity, for friend Oliver is by no
means devoid of wit, sarcasm, and even literary
research, and if he would trust more to his own
resources, and ape less the peculiarities of
others, he would make a much more decided
hit. " Address to Contributors and Readers"

is in the old Blackwood style—a mass of ego-
tism and would-be brilliancy, and until the writer
can do something better himself, we cannot allow
him to speak in contemptuous terms of men so

incomparably his superiors, as Moore, Buiwer,
and Campbell. When he can give us a Two-
penny Post-bag, a Pelham, or a Hohenlinden,
then indeed he may speak out. But as-
suredly not till then. Medwin's Translation
of the " Persians" of }Eschylus is very ele-
gantly, and, considering its eloquence, mar-
vellously correct. On comparing, last night,
the opening chorus with the original, we found
it faithful enough, with the exception of' a single

ne respecting the Nile. Altogether, the trans-
lation is magnificent, by far the best we are
acquainted with. "My Contemporaries, from
the Note Book of a Retired Barrister," is replete
with agreeable legal anecdote:--
" The forbearance shown by Lord Ellenborough to the
repeated insults of Lord Kenyon, was always a matter of
great surprise to the bar, as he was wanting neither in
firmness nor in spirit; and as at the same time he held
a high office, that made them more pointed, and more
keenly felt. But it was found, that he subdued his resent-
ment from a proud feeling for the dignity of the Court,
which he thought would be lowered in the eyes of the
people by a personal altercation taking place between a
Judge on the bench and a member of the Bar.
" But that he was not insensible of them, may be col-
lected from the following anecdote, which, though I am
aware that it is not new in the world, is too nearly con-
nected with my present subject to pass it over without
notice. The opportunity presented itself, and he availed
himself of it, to convey, in an elegant classical quotation,
the truth of those feelings which he had so long unwil-
lingly suppressed. He was opposed to Erskine in a case
before the Court, ha which the latter deeply interested
himself, and spoke with considerable warmth, in language
not wholly free from personal allusion. Erskine was al-
ways favourably heard by Lord Kenyon, and on this oc-
casion even with partiality. By two happy lines from
Virgil, he showed bow little he dreaded the power of his
adversary, and how much the hostility of the Judge.
Turning to Erskine, he broke out in his usual manly tone,—
" Non me tua fervida terrent
Dicta, ferox Dii me terrent et Jupiter hostis."
He paused at the word ferox, with his eyes fixed on Lord
Kenyon, and his right hand stretched towards the bench.
He pronounced with the strongest emphasis Dii me terrent
et Jupiter hostis."

The Sketch of Talleyrand " is capital, and
,he device by which Oliver Yorke has enabled

himself to give the Prince a niche in his Litere,,
Gallery of Busts and Portraits, :as a celebrated
author, is ingenious enough, namely, by repre-
senting him as the author of " Palmerston, a
farce in two acts." Of Lord Byron's " Un-
published Poem on Mr. Rogers," all we shall
say is, that we wholly disbelieve its authenticity,
not because his Lordship was not fully able to
satirize his nearest and dearest associates, but
because internal evidence is strongly against its
genuineness. Byron was a satirist—not a mere
vulgar, brawling, personal libeller—and nothing
else. He was libellous, undoubtedly, and per-
sonal, and at times gross—but then as a set-off
against these imbecilities (for they are nothing
better); he had more than the strength of
Churchill, and almost as much biting power of
sarcasm as Junius himself, the most stinging
satirist that ever existed. " Asinarii Scenici
is a lively, desultory article, detailing, in a spi-
rited manner, the monstrous humbug of Ireland's
Shakspeare forgeries. " Song of the Shirtless"
is a clever /jet/ d'esprit by Morgan O'Doherty.