The Sun.
London, England, 1834-04-05 00:00:00

LITERATURE

OUR TOWN, 2 Vols.—London, 1832.
Miss Mitford's " Our Village" has evidently
given the first idea of this work, which, however, is

no servile imitation, but is full of original touches,
and quaint gleams of humour. The author is
one who thinks for himself, and draws from his
own impression of things. Fancy alone, how-
ever brilliant or excursive, would never have
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mightr t that at
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ioe profusiond
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furnished him with the life-like sketches of cha-
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superstructure ; but it was reality that gave him
the foundation--the s olid brick-work and masonry
of his work. We by no means relish our au-
thor's sketches the less because here and there
they happen to be tinctured with cynicism :
nothing is so insipid as that invariable good-
nature which has a bland simper for everything
and everybody. Yet, though the author can
snarl and show his teeth at times, he is by no
means devoid of the gentler feelings ; he can
praise as well as blame ; smile as well as sneer ;
witness his character of Old Lot, the tailor-
poacher, (a marvellous amalgamation of qualities,
by the bye,) which is as frank and bold a sketch,
and good-natured withal, as anything we have
lately met with. It just verges on the boundary
line between truth and exaggeration, but not so
much so, as to destroy the impression of its rea-
lity. As a sample of broad humour, we quote a
portion of the chapter entitled " Delicate Plea-
sures for Susceptible Minds," which details the
whole history and mystery of pig-killing in a pro-
vincial town :

a In ' our town' pig-rearing and pig-killing are the
principal objects of a man's life. The same may be
said of our country. It seems as if a man was born
for no other purpose than to make hog's flesh. The
instant they are at liberty to act for themselves, they
follow the example of their forefathers and cultivate
bacon. A man takes his wife and his pig together,
they flourish together, are nourished one as much as
the other, and both go into the straw together. The
difference in the last proceeding is somewhat striking,
to be sure, and it can hardly be said whether the
balance is in favour of the woman or the pig. The
former has, as everybody knows, no very easy time of
it ; the latter, when he gets into the straw, gets on his
funeral-pile, in which his bristles, not his flesh, are
burned to ashes. His troubles are over ; but nobody
knows where a wife's troubles will end. The pig has
paid the debt of nature ; but a wife has so many debts
of nature to pay ! The pig is the best off, after all.
" The stoicism of a pig is enviable. The manner
in which he receives the injuries heaped on him is no
proof of it, certainly, but his mode of bearing them
after they are inflicted is truly his own. No creature
on earth can make more noise than he does to prevent
himself from being hurt ; but that is excellent policy.
He seems to know the value of the old proverb, ' It
is better to prevent than to cure.' But when he finds
the thing is done, he is silent, and as patient as Job
himself. Indeed, if Job had been allotted to bear what
a pig bears, we might be permitted to doubt his pa-
tience. The trials of swine are great. Some foreigner,
with more sprightliness than justice, said that a pig
was the only gentleman in England.' If the foreigner
stood in the place of one, he would alter his opinion.
" The Swinish race are subjected to the most ungen-
tlemanlike dignities. They are cruelly maimed, merely
to increase their bulk, at least no other reason is al-
leged. It does not impart melody to their voice, that
is evident ; and as to strength, it is not needed. You
have only to tease one, to be convinced of its power.
They have rings thrust into their tender noses, because
they shall not root up the earth and grow thin by the
exercise. But how admirably do they bear all this !
No sooner is it over, than they turn about to the trough
with a dignified composure, and feed as heartily as if
nothing had happened."

MACKAY S POEMS. London, 1834.

li, a modest and well written preface, the
author of this little volume assures us that he is
" a young bard," and that he " ventures on the
crowded arena with fear and trembling." He
need be under no serious apprehensions, for there
is enough of talent in him to enable him to make
head-way, if he will only superadd to that
talent, perseverance, and the diligent study of
our best poetic models. The present poems,
though immature, evince much promise : as a
specimen we quote the following :

" TO THE WINDS.
" I called on the rushing blast."—OsitaN.
" Wind of the winter night, whence comest thou
And whither, oh whither, art wandering now ?
Sad, sad, is thy voice on this desolate moor,
And mournful, oh mournful, thy howl at my door.
Say where hast thou been on thy cloud-lifted car ?
Say, what hast thou seen in thy roamings afar ?
What sorrow impels thee, thou boisterous blast,
Thus to mourn and complain as thou journeyest past ?
Dost weep that the green sunny summer hath fled ?
That the leaves of the forest are withered and dead,
That the groves and the woodlands re-echo no more
The light-hearted music they teemed with of yore?
That the song of the lark and the hum of the bee,
Have ceased for awhile on the snow.covered lea ?
Say, wind of the winter-night, whence comest thou,
And whither, oh whither, art wandering now p

PRIVY COUNCIL.-(THIS DAY.)

The judicial committee of the privy council hard;
meeting this morning at the Council-office. The lo
present were, Lord Wynford, the Vice- Chancello,r:
Mr. Justice James Parke, the Chief Judge of the Bantt
ruptcy Court, Sir Edward Hyde East, and the Rig'
Hon. A. Johnston.
Mr. Sergeant SPANKIE was heard the whole
in support of the appeal of Sutroogic
rnorniur•
Sabreta Dye remitted from Bengal.
Sutputty