The Sun.
London, England, 1826-11-01 00:00:00

MONTHLY AND EUROPEAN.

" The Monthly. and European Magazine comes
forth this month with tuiptsua y strong claims to .atten-
tion, whether on the score of amusement or instruc-
tion. Its paper, entitled " Full Lengths, or the Drill
Sergeant,'' is humoroust quaint, and true to nature.
But our readers shall judge for themselves.
I would wish to convey a striking resemblance of our Drill-
Sergeant on duty, when yon w4puld irsirearbf -his gait that. this
glorious earth was wholly compoitt .of spring wires, eo elastic are
his soles. It is a motion unparalleled either in the natural or
artificial world ;itis a movement by itself—like the swoop of the
eagle, the waddle of the duck, the fleetness of the greyhound, or
the hop of the frog. It must, however, be owned dna on great
`cessions our Sergeant can alter his deportment.

He does break himself up (Com the *Mese of parade ; for sow
him, when the draughts of urine bottom bath diluted 1012:111 portitid
of military starch, and ha no longer holds his head like a game
/oak, taking his morning's potation ; set him, then, and own that
even a Sergeant may be amiable. Ie he dot the very modal of
elegant ease? He is, indeed, unbent; for his limbs awing loosely
se bung ramrods. Our Sergeasiteen now talk; his tongue hath
overleapt the two barriers, " Attention !" and " Stand at ease!"
and rambles wildly from Egypt to Waterloo. And if it should
happen that the pretty bar-maid be niees to the landlady, mark
how the Sergeant probes for het feelings with charged bayonets.—
how he will try to smite her gentle ear with a diseharge of and-
lory—sw ear that he bath had twenty wounds under his coat,
although very politieally adding, that they have left him not a bit
the worse man. Then, if the damsel still continue untouched,
taking orders with a calm air, our Sergeant hints in a whisper,
audible to the dosing watchman at the door, something about a
Spanish widow at Saragossa, adding very loudly, " But no-1
was always for true love ! adorning the beautiful edifice of prin-
ciple with a flowery oath. He then begins a sentiment, and, at a
loss, dives for the conclusion to it in a pot of ale. If there happen
to be four or five privates in the room, our Sergeant increases in
importance from the circumstance—just as a cat becomes great
front the introduction of a litter of puppies. Our Sergeant is
more than ever the leading gander of the flock—the king-herring
of the shoal—the blue-bottle of the swarm—the pebble of the
sand—the Gof the gamut, He has 'now additional hearers of the
Sale of his prowess, and, if he but give the wink, companions who
saw him face the breach and spike the cannon. His rank next
becomes the subject of discussion; and looking very complacently
at his arm, he tells of some dreadful exploit in which he *trued his
stripes. "And doubtless, Sergeant, not before you deserved
them," ventures a small, quiet wight in the corner, who will have
hie fling, though at the &apogee of his liquor ; for era he concludes
his remark he gives the Sergeant his glass—just as a school-bay,
echo twitches the trunk of an elephant, throws to the animal a
;teas-offsring of apples—whilst the privates inwardly laugh at the
Joke, and get rebuked for again enjorog it on parade to-morrow
morning. Just as the Sergeant's opponents are nearly all 'laugh-
tired, a little Italian boy bearing a tortoise adroitly glides into the
room to display the testaceous wonder; or he has with kim a butt
of Napoleon, at which our Sergeant bristles up, looking, indeed,
seriously fierce at pleister of Paris. Here he utters some half
audible wish that he had not received a bullot in the last charge,
and then—, Now, however, our Sergeant takes an opportu-
nity to pour forth his learning—be mangles five words of French;
the Italian shakes his head, and holds forth his hand ; the Ser-
geant swears at him for an impostor, ignorant of his own lan-
guage. In drawing late, our Sergeant calls for hie reckoning, and
learning the amount, with an affected air of destitution avows he
has no money ; helms not a piece of silver about Lim, unless it be
that at his breast—and here he carelessly lifts up with one finger a
Waterloo medal ; then he draws out a watch, once the property of
a French general slain by our Sergeant, and asks if that will
agree for the amount ? At length, however, the money being
shaken from a yellow silk purse, our Sergeant, after a solitary ad-
monition to the privates, goes off, as be says, to visit a friend in the
Ordnance.

" Pierre of Stauffen," by Mr. C. Webbe (from the
same 'Magazine), is s very terse and poetic narrative ;
and the
" Review, of Death's Doings, from the pen,
we believe, of O'Dolierty, for information, vigour, and
condensed style, is far superior to the general Twit of
such articles.