The Sun.
London, England, 1850-11-09 00:00:00

THE SUN,

MA GA ZINE S, Sec —(coN.TI rir D
DUBLIN UNIVERSITY.
112 charming little tale of " Grace Ketneek-"
i
brought to a conclusion. The stoey eatemenceil
the culri, dreary bog, cowinued at leippy Fairport, is
finished at the •Ahhey, and poor little Grdee, rescued
from ignorance, vice, and poverty, is left a great and
rich heiress. The account of Charles Barton's re-
visiting the home of his childhood is one of the moat
beautifully simple and touching descriptions we ever
remember to have perused. " The Mystic Vial" pro-
gresses in interest; it smacks of German dialerie, end
promises a thrilling climax. In " Maurice Tierney"
the landing of the French expedition, under Hum-
bert, in the bay of lingoes, and their cheerless recep-
tion by the wretched peasantry, is graphically told.
We hazard a guess at the author of " Maurice Tier-
ney" from the circumstance of findints, within the
limits of to single page, " we all broke info a • hearty
roar of laughter," " the speaker breaking into a
hearty laugh," " they burst out into a roar of
laughter." This vile and vapid "roar of laughter"
is
perpetually -recurring nuisance in the generally
clever wad humorous pages of that popular rattler,
!ferry Inirrequer. We pray him, in a friendly
spirit, to drop the sorry and disfiguring trick fur the
Inture. It has become " too bad." Giietne's Dramatic
tragment, " Prometheus," is well rendered. The
translator has creditably succeeded in his attempt to
fellow the rhythm, and at the some rime to preserve
simplicity and concise energy of the original,
which has all the effect of exquisitely-chielled
culp
tare standing against a crisp clear sky." A memoir,
illustrated by a portrait, of the charming Irish
prima donna, Catherine Hayes, F.;ives a very
interesting summary of the successful career
of that gifted and amiable lady from the time when
her beautifully clear and silvery mellow voice was
first artistically moulded by Signor Sapio, until, after
the additional tuition of Garcia and Felice Ronconi,
she burst up in the musical world with signal bril-
liancy in her debut at Marseilles, in May, 1845, took
Milan by storm in the same year, being called, on the
falling of the curtain, on the occasion of her
first appearance there in the Linda di Chamouni,
no less than TWELvE times before it—in Venice
excited a delirious furore—left the land of song
loaded with laurels, and achieved a triumphant suc-
cess in London. Of " The Pearl of the Theatre,"
the flattering designation which her touching por-
traiture of Desdernona won for her from the Milanese,
her biographer happily remarks, after noting "that
beautiful shake, clear, thrilling, and brilliant," with
which she is gifted,
" Pronounced second only to Jenny Lind by the
coldest and severest critics in the world—described by
one of their cautious organs as certainly the sweetest,
the most graceful, and the most interesting representa-
tive' of Lucia on the stage—her professional triumphs
have been as brilliant as her private life has been pure
and amiable. If to Grisi and Adelaide Ketobte it has
been given to astonish by the sublime grandeur of their
tragic acting, the passion and the thrilling beauty of
their vocalism ; if to Alboni, mighty in all the mean-
ing of the word, be granted amazing attributes of power,
and a voice organ-like in blended depth arid sweetness;
if to Sontag be confided the charm of pure and delicate
expression, wedded to delicious floridness of flute-like
execution; it to Jenny Lind, greater than all, the queen
of song, be given that purely beautiful perfection of
vocal melody—that true sunshine spoken,' blending
light, and loveliness, and feeling, which never till her
advent came from human throat,—to Catherine Hayes
have descended the deep sensibility, the mournful pathos,
the heart, speaking expression which characterise her
native music.
" As an actress, too, Miss Hayes, during her career,
has displayed dramatic genius of the highest order, re-
pudiating the idea, to a great extent still existing, that
in opera the interpretation of the music alone was the
essential of success. What, for instance, can be more
true to nature than her Amine, so full 01 innocent and
joyous animation in the earlier scenes, so painfully
real in the after-abandoment to grief, so tender
in love, so touching in sorrow, so purely simple
throughout? Then her Linda—is not the madness
of that love-lore girl painfully real? Was ever sorrow
expressed in more plaintive utterance, more moving
action? Her Lucis, too, is it not an exquisitely
original conception, truthfully carried, out? And
even her Norma, a part for which the soft and
gentle attributes of her nature render her almost
unfit, is it not still a grand and moving perform-
ance, a fine portraiture of the woman, not, as is that of
Grisi, of the fiend?"
The "Rummage Review" among the poets of the
season is very clever, but caustic, and frequently
hypercritical. Bailey is tomahawked, yet scarcely
so touch by fair criticism as malignant banter. One
sentence is legitimately severe. " His Festue' had ex-
hausted the storehouse of pretentious inanities and
imposing no-meanings. He has been left to construct
his 6 Angel World' of inanities which make no pre-
tence to substance, and of no-meanings destitute of
any cloak of imposingness." Finding W. G. T.
Barter's rubbishieg abertion, 'yclept "The first Iliad
of Homer," thrust among decent company, that
worthy is dismissed with a single salutation—" Oh !
Barter, Barter, in the circle of the currency the coin
exists not minute enough to represent your value in
exchange." Charles Mackay receives high and de-
served honour from the hands of the reviewer, who
after quoting his " Procrastination," the" Plea for our
Physical Life," and " You and 1," truly and felici-
tously remarks, "In bidding good-bye and God
speed to this fine-hearted, honest fellow, who preaches
homilies of humanity with equal sweetness and
boldness"—
" Charles Mackay is not so delicate a poet as Long-
fellow, nor perhaps so profound; but what he says is
seid off-hand, and comes fresh from a good heart.
Where the other loiters gracefully over the expression of
a sentiment, Meekly has it expressed, anal is gone on to
the expression of a new one, without giving you time to
Consider whether the emotions you experience have been
excited by graceful or ungraceful diction. The emotions
are sprightly, animating, and humane ; and, like good
wine drunk in the twilight, give you enough of enjoy-
ment without having regard to the fashion of the vehicle.
Every now and then, indeed, you are charmed with a
simplicity, a grace, and kindliness not unworthy of Be-
rauger. Like Beranger, he is most happy in his least
ambitious moments. Uttering the genial sentiments of
the honest fellow of every-day life, he is as good as can be;
comraunicating the emotions excited in a poetic tempera-
ment by the lovely and beautiful, he is very good; strain-
ing at the grand aspirations of the philosophical poet, he
is good only sub mode, and fails to get into the upper
region, where great spirits alone can expatiate with dig-
nity and freedom. It is a shallow but a clear stream of
song; a beneficent visitant of the meadows and pastures;
delightful company for the wayfarer; making merry
with the mill-wheel and prattling sweetly to the
loiterers on the rustic bridge; but it is not cal-
culated to that navies, or even to bear
any very heavily-laden barge of philosophy.
Let us, however, in his own spirit of enjoyment, make
the most of it. 'The masses of England stood much in
need of some such cheerful monitor. It is not surprising
that these poems, fulfilling so well the conditions 01
cheerfulness, generosity, and independence, should have
become very eminent popular favourites; may they long
continue so. A people among whom Charles Mackay
is a popular writer, must possess largely the elements of
greatness and the reality of goodness. Their visions of
democratic perfection may be somewhat exalted and
cloudy, but their practice in the daily walks of life can
hardly be other than kind, honest, and independent."
Mrs. Sandback's " Aurora" just passes muster ; small
reverence is paid to the resuscitation of " The Poetical
Works of John Struthers;" considerable applause is
given to Mr. Michell's elegant poem "The Ruins of
Many Lands ;" whilst " Wild Flowers from Ger-
many" and "The Wrongs of Poland" are severally
dismissed with a summary kick. On the single fault
discernable in William Charles Kent's " Aletheia,"
namely, an overcrowded parade of mythological per-
sonages, this searching critic harps rather captiously;
but he takes occasion to afford in several paragraphs
the tribute of deserved and valuable commendation to
that glowing and remarkable production of cultivated
genius :
"It is Lempriere's dictionary in verse; yet the subject
is warmed and enriched by a vigorous genius into a
series of beautiful and apposite pictures. The succession
tif similar forms is far too long, and the panoramic pa-
geant soon palls on the eye; but, if we examine the parts
separately, we must own that the pictures are individu-
ally full of colour, full of body, full—to go to enother
class of illusiration—of succulence. Keats himself has
not fancied more delicious images than meet us in many of
the stanzas. How rich is the introduction. Again, in
the polytheism of the woods and glades, how rich and
full o succulence,—
' Light waves the linden, where beneath the rind
Philyra's Passion pulsates with the sap,' &e.
Again, rebuilding in imagination the symbolic temple
of the Gentile gods, how splendid aro his architectural
solecisms."
And in the frill tide of admiration he then quotes
eight of the grandly musical stanzas of, this noble and
vivid lay. Allingham is the reviewers prime favou-
rite, and the extracts given from his poem of " The
Music Master " justify his warm praise
He has told, in a strain of almost blameless simpli-
city and sweetness, one of the most pathetic love-tales
in the language. The versification is not unworthy of
the ear of a Goldsmith; the diction and method such
as Leigh Hunt, to whona the poem is de ti reds . , ruiWe
vht
have been well satisfied with iu his happiest h
cannot pass the name of Leigh Hunt without pausing to
waft him an affectionate remembrance. The school of
literature which has sprung up from. the germs he
planted has its weaknesses, its fopperies, perhaps its
dangers; but the Diekenses, Tenn) sons, Broweings,
and the rest of the fine flock whom he may cull hie
children, are good and genial souls, from whose fame the
old man may derive a just and honourable addition to
his own. Mr. Allingham is the last of the distinguished
baud who have owed their first appreciation to the
kindly and discerning instincts of Leigh Hunt."
This is good and true, but what are we to think of
the following paragraph but as " a puff damnable ?"
We have never seen the work in question, but are
willing on this authority to pronounce it " devilish
ept.
oloer,e,vthes‘ivralp.
rwbeii'irdaorshi:dui
(srgi eig,etk_hilail2eamßds hwaedl
ca
ommaen
to
101 ut s : h
us —c
orcpuny
of
ood.
ark,
product
uwcte could
heavenlysa they
ties perverted still remains on the
now take up' Boethe, a New Pantomime,' by Edward
lienealy. We have preferred to deal with men of, per-

hnue, if?SS ability—for this is a tnln of the greatest uhi-
iii)—cdvoni c!,:n ri.,:pc(,t foe intcn!iop, while we
bta.i.lo t. etr ;:tults of excu'ion. 210 t mix no
*Arro, r d in,di;::natiori of mind in which
tho ' 1.1 u.;: Mast: r' ut Ai:ingtiazr 13,..:; nor would
wc' time, va:ue of tneh commenthltions
as we hale ben able to bestow, by casting them into
the Shado by the expression of uliqualitiud ustonisiment
which we could not restrain at the frequent bursts of
power, sploudou; and wit, which illumine this brilliant
but detestable performance. Another time. and in
another frame of mind, we may return to 'Goethe, a
IsT(.w Pantomime.'"

We trust our friend, "the Rummager," may speedily
get over Lis fright, and favour his readers with the
production of his parturient mountain concerning
"the brilliant but detestable performance" of Mr.
Kenealy. Jonathan Frelte Slingsby contributes a
capital " Snap-apple Night," being the narration of a
visit to his uncle Saul, a worthy bachelor, who "owed
his sarety to the immensity of his philogyny," and
vho " fine old mansion.—none of your gingerbread
titi;gs that you see at Kingstown and Dal key, with
their gables and gazaboes, and little windows stuck
in sorts of queer plaits in the roof, young Eliza-
heti:tins, just come from nurse, viith their white
shining laces, and flaring green-painted doors, but a
noble square pile of solid masonry," i 2 the scene of the
festivities oF a happy gathering to cultivate the sports
of Halloween, such as snapping apples, burning nuts,
(lancing, singing songs, and telling stories, &c. Ile
loveth the joyous jig,—
" There's footing for you ? Talk of polkas and
mazurkas, boleros or tarantulas, quadrille or cotil-
lion, I aver there is nothing in the world
to cepa]. an Irish jig, in the way of saltation.
Mark with what exquisite accuracy the time of the air
is kept by the beat of the foot, the swing of the body,
the motion of the hands, and the snap of the fingers.
How they humour the tune,' giving expression to
every chaega and tone of sentiment. With what an
air of bold gallantry, mingled with coaxing drollery,
the young man flings his arms about the girl, as be
twirls her round till her tiny feet are well nigh lifted off
the ground. How coquettishly she disengages herself,
and whin a look half shy, half sly, retreats as he ad-
vances. How disdainfully she flounces round, while,
imitating her example, he turns on his heel with a
nonchalant air that would do credit to one of your first-
rate town puppies. I aver, my dear Antony, that an
Irish jig is the perfection of dancing, the poetry of
motion, the drama of the feet; and if you cats show me
anything to compare with it, either in lordly saloons,
or on village green sward, then will I burn my quill,
break my lyre, and retire into a monastery of Trappists
for the rest of my
And a pretty monk you'd make ! Lombard-street to
a China orange, Jonathan, but you can yourself
" welt the floor" with no inconsiderable kudos. The
songs are, of course, good ; "Mary of the Curls" is
very sweet and flowing, but the concluding one with
the chorus is worthy of Moore. Two able papers,
each full of sterling stuff, complete the present num-
ber. " Recent Political Economists," a masterly
recension of "Burton's Political and Social Econo-
my," and "Three Lectures on the Principles of
Taxation, delivered at Queen's College, Galway," by
the professor of jurisprudence and political
economy in that establisment, a talented and
learned gentleman, Denis Caulfield Heron. The other,
" Modern Art—its Prospects and Pioneers" is well
worthy perusal, ably analyzing the recent works of
Fergusson, who assumes for the science of Esthetics a
place only second to Ethics, and goes to the extent of
placing Gastronomy and Perfumery in the category
of fine arts resulting from the senses, as directly as
Eumorphics and Euchromatics—of Twining, of
Purdie, and Garbett. We can only extract one short
sentence from this interesting and suggestive paper :
" Of all the Fine Arts we should say that Sculpture
is the least and Architecture the most degenerated,
whilst Painting, curtailed of its phonetic importance
from many causes, fluctuates between the meretri-
ciousness of colour, the exaggeration of power, and
mere execution exhibited in the meanness of minute
details." And it is even so, we swear by Trafalgar-
square ! In conclusion, let us ask where is the pen of
Carleton ? It cannot be that he has ejaculated,
"Ingrata Maga, non mea guidem scripta habebis,"
Yet, is the absence of the great delineator of Irish
character, faithful, vivid, and unexaggerating, from
the pages of the Dublin University much to be de-
plored. Radiant as is " the lone star" of Ireland, it
would shine more " excellently bright" were its bril-
liancy augmented by the richness of the Irish Scott.

AINSWORT.H'S.
On its first appearance we noticed the principal
features of Mr. Ainsworth's richly-coloured romance
"The Lancashire Witches," a work in which the ter-
rible and fascinating characteristics of his Salvator
Rosa-like pencil are so conspicuously displayed. A
monthly instalment of this enthralling narrative forms
the principal feature in. Ainsworth's Magazine at the
present time. Second in attraction are the admirable
sketches or E. P. Rowsell—" Professional:Men"—the
Barrister being the subject of the present number.
" Drafts from Memory on the Banks of Holland," by
Mrs. White, is the happy title of an amusing re-
miniscence of a tour " Jacob van der Nees," is con-
cluded.