The Sun.
London, England, 1845-09-17 00:00:00

I**l+

MAGAZINES.—(CONTINUED.)
TAIT'S MAGAZINE.
This Magazine did not reach us till about a week after
nearly all the periodicals of the same month had been
received, and this must be the excuse for our brief notice
of its contents, which altogether are excellent. The
first article contains a review of Wordsworth's Poetry
by De Quincy, which is superior in its way, though,
aceording to our judgment, far too flattering. It is
spirited and attractive ; the attention never flags, and
occasionally it takes poetic flights higher than those that
Wordsworth ever essayed. We give the following re-
marks on the French Revolution as a specimen :
.4 Why is the recluse disgusted with the French Revolution?
Because it had not fulfilled many of his expectations ; and, of
those which it had fulfilled, some had soon been darkened by
reverses. But really this was childish impatience. If a man
depends for the exuberance of his harvest upon the splendour
of the coming summer, you do not excuse him for taking
prussic acid because it rains cats and dogs through the first ten
days of April. All in good time we say; take it easy; make
acquaintance with May and June before you do anything rash.
The French Revolution has not, even yet (1845), come into
full action. It was the explosion of a prodigious volcano,
which scattered its lava over every kingdom of every continent,
everywhere silently manuring them for social struggles; this
lava is gradually fertilising all ; the revolutionary movement is
moving onwards at this hour as inexorably as ever. Listen, if
you have ears for such spiritual sounds, to the mighty tide even
now slowly coming up from the sea to Milan, to Rome, to
Naples, to Vienna. Hearken to the gentle undulations already
breaking against the steps of that golden throne which stretches
from St. Petersburgh to Astrachan ; —tremble at the hurricanes
which have long been mustering about the pavilions of the
Ottoman Padishah. All these are long swells setting in from
the French Revolution. Even as regards France herself,
that which gave the mortal offence to the sympathies of the
solitary was the Reign of Terror. But how thoughtless to
measure the cycles of vast national revolutions by metres that
would not stretch an ordinary human passion. Even to a frail
sweetheart, you would grant more indulgence than to be off in
a pet because some transitory cloud arose between you. The
reign of terror was a mere fleeting phasis. The Napoleon
dynasty was nothing more. Even that scourge, which was
supposed by many to have mastered the Revolution, has itself
passed away upon the wind,—leaving no wreck, rolique, or
record behind, except precisely those changes which it worked,
not as an enemy to the Revolution (which also it was), but as
its servant and its tool. See, even whilst we speak, the folly
of that cynical sceptic who would not allow time for great na-
tural processes of purification to travel onwards to their birth,
or wait for the evolution of natural results ;—the storm that
shocked him, has wheeled away ;--the frost and the hail that
offended him have done their office ; —the rain is over and gone;
—happier days have descended upon France;—the voice of the
turtle is heard in all her forests ; —man walks with his head
erect ;—bastiles are no more ; —every cottage is searched by the
golden light of law; and the privileges of conscience are con-
secrated for ever."
lie thus sums up his praises of the venerable poet:—
" Young and Cowper, the two earlier leaders in the pro-
vince of meditative poetry, are too circumscribed in the range
of their sympathies, too exclusive, and oftentimes not suffi-
ciently profound. Both these poets manifested the quality of
their strength by the quality of their public reception. Popu-
lar in some degree from the first, they entered upon the inhe •
ritance of their fame almost at once. Far different was the
fate of Wordsworth ; for, in poetry of this class, which appeals
to what lies deepest in man, in proportion to the native power
of the poet, and his fitness for permanent life, is the strength
of resistance in the public taste. Whatever is too original
will be hated at the first. It must slowly mould a public for
itself ; and the resistance of the early thoughtless judgments
must be overcome by a counter resistance to itself, in a better
audience slowly mustering against the first. Forty and seven
years it is since William Wordsworth first appeared as an
author. Twenty of those years he was the scoff of the world,
and his poetry a bye-word of scorn. Since then, and more
than once, senates have rung with acclamations to the echo of
his name. Now, at this moment, whilst we are talking about
him, he has entered upon, his seventy-sixth year. For himself,
according to the course of nature, he cannot be far from his
setting; but his poetry is but now clearing the clouds that
gathered about its rising."
The review of Thiers' third and fourth volume of the
" Consulate and the Empire" of France deserves praise
for its impartiality, and the correct view it takes of his
ability as a writer, and his glaring defects as an his-
torian; but the most interesting articles, which owe
much to the numerous extracts, are on two books of
"Travels in the United States of America"—one by a
" Scottish Craftsman"—in other words, a carder and
spinner of wool—and the other by Mr. Lyell, the well-
known writer on geology. We have read the whole of
them from beginning to ead, and recommend all those
who aro desirous of forming a favourable estimate of the
state of society in America, to follow the example. The
sportsman will find much amusement as well as instruc-
tion in the last publication of Mr. Mills, entitled the
" Sportsman's Library," to which full justice is done in
the present number.

TVA DE'S LONDON 1? E VIE TV.
This is an excellent number of TVadc. It opens with
an admirable article entitled "Commercial aspects—
Locomotion and Railway Speculation," which gives a
short but succinct resume of the History of the rise and
progress of the Railway System. Many persons have
asked recently where all the money is to come from to
carry out the new railway projects ? To this question
the writer of this article thus replies :
"Do not despair, we say. With Consols nearly at par,
and money easily to be had at 21/, per cent., without a single
one-pound note in circulation on this side the Tweed, and a na-
tional income increasing at the rate of fifty millions per annum,
there seems no ground for serious apprehension of forthcoming
instalments, if not from the present shareholders, from others
who may purchase thefr liabilities. At all events, there will
be something to show for the outlay ; by interlacing the whole
island with iron roads, there will be a useful result, which is
more than can be said of every expenditure—the subsiding
Continental Princes to wit, or sending out capital to work
foreign mines, to open foreign roads, or fish up Spanish gal-
leons in the bay of Vigo.
" The flow of money to railways has certainly diverted the
surplus resources of the country from investment in the funds,
keeping down the prices of these securities, and preventing a
saving of public revenue, by a reduction of interest in the Three
per Cents. This appears the chief drawback, and is likely to
continue so long as the whole world almost is making tempting
offers for the loan of British capital, to insure the facilities of
railway communications."
" He's too much of a Gentleman" is an admirable social
sketch by the authoress of " Old Pictures." The Greek
tale, " Ambition," is continued, and we have, in addition,
several able critiques on works recently published.

THE AR7'-UNION.
Pyne's admirable paper on the Nomenclature of Pic-
torial Art is continued in the present number. The
observations on Light and Shade in the present portion
of it are very profound, and should be studied carefully
and meditated on by every student who would take rank
as an artist. The illustrations of this number consist of
a beautiful engraving, by Lerouge, from llorace Vernet's
picture " Le Combat de l'Affroun," and a series of exqui-
site woodcuts from the pictures and decorations of the
Palace of Versailles. We trust that the following
announcement which appaars in the Art-Union is
correct :

"Sr. JOHN~s GATE, CnnaK.ENwEnt.—Notwithstanding a
report to the contrary, we are glad to learn that this venerable
relic, to which attach so many interesting associations, is likely
to be preserved, a subscription being proposed for the repara-
tion of the decorative portions of the gate—such as tapping or
testing each stone in the north and south fronts, carefully
rubbing those that are sound, and replacing those which are
too much decomposed with new stone, not squared, but in-
serted so as to conform with the present appearance of the
building. The Committee recommend carrying up the battle-
ments in stone in front of the angular turrets, to their original
height ; inserting new labels to the doors and windows— strong
courses and bands around ; new and proper mullions with
cinque-foil heads to the large windows in the north and south
fronts; removing the unsightly Roman doorway and shop win-
dow on the south side, and placing a new window and doorway
in keeping with the old gate ; and painting up the sides of the
building with stone or slate set in good mortar, finished with
blue ash mortar to preserve a uniform colour."

GEORGE CRUIKSHANK'S TABLE-BOOK.
This is a capital Number, whether considered in a
pictorial or a literary point of view. The illustrations of
the " Mouthful of Fresh Air," are rich, and the letter-
press is redolent of fun. The subject is excellent—a steam-
voyage to Margate. Who can illustrate such a subject
like George Cruikshank and Gilbert A'l3eckett ?
" The Enthusiast in Anatomy" is a very quaint tale,
quaintly told and as quaintly illustrated. The following
article is illustrated by the figure of a stout Hall Porter
seated in his beehive chair in a marble hall, making an
effort to be vo:.al. The manner in which he scents to
squeeze his voice up from his chest ii admirable.
It is a remarkable trait in the English character that a gen-
tleman or lady with a voice, and even without one, can adopt
immediately the various feelings under which sentimental songs
are supposed to have been written. Thus an individual with a
good low G is seized with a desire to bid " Farewell to the
Mountain," and he makes the further discovery that it is " too
lovely for him ;" though he has never particularly considered
what amount of loveliness in the way of " sunlighted vales,"
and other overwhelming beauties of nature, he has hitherto
found himself proof against. Every one is supposed to feel
what he sings, and when a gentleman therefore strikes up
" Oh, give me but my Arab steed," he is supposed to be ad-
vertising, through the medium of song, for an animal war-
ranted to go quiet in the " battle-field," and not to shy at the
sound of trumpets. If we are to judge by the difference of the
sentiment in songs for different voices, high tenors appear to be
always desperately in love, baritones extremely ill-used and out
of spirits, while bases are wrapt up in such a cloud of gloom that
they are on terms of intimacy with King Death, whom they fa-
miliarly allude to as " a rare old fellow."
Young ladies with little voices want to be butterflies, and
the whole musical population of the female sex has for the last
year been dreaming it has •` dwelt in marble halls," a dream
that the porter at the ReformCuh,aswell as hundreds of other
porters, may every day
Though we areof their life see realised.
aware the sentiments of songs cannot b e
adapted to the peculiar situations of all the individuals who
sing them, we are of opinion that ballads might at least be
written to suit particular classes, and we conclude this paper by
an adaptation of the celebrated " Marble Halls," as a " Song
from the Chair, to be sung in every large hall by the porter.
I dreamt that I dwelt in marble halls,
With tradesmen and duns outside,
And a large assembly of morning calls,
In carriage pomp and pride.
There were crowds too great to count, and most
For bills unsettled came ;
But I also dreamt that at post
I sat dosing all the same.
I dreamt that footmen raised their hand,
And knock',l to a high degree,
With a noise few porters' ears could withstand,
Hut they wasted it all on ma.
I dreamt that one of the noisy host
Caine forth and bawl'd my name ;
hut 1 also dreamt that fast as a post
I slept there all the same.

Tar, POTATO BLIGHT.—We find that the distemper
amongst. the potatoes prevails to a great extent in the south
of England, but it has scarcely reached tho midland counties,
and that in the north of England it is almost unknown. The
same complaint is said to extend to field cucumbers, and
acres of girkins have gone off in a similar way.—Lancaster
Guardian.