The Sun.
London, England, 1845-12-25 00:00:00

LITERATURE.
THE CRICKET aN THE PLAhTH ; a Fail
Ta'e f 11,4;4!. B Cha-let. tickeys.
Winer has 14 (V fairle arrived—die frost ;4.1.,(1 !•now
have conimeeced, and the face (e in tune is bleak art
desolate, yet all is not cheeriess : as the etf: '+aid
vvorld grows more gloomy, the inward tiecsires
more bright. The other day the suoe, Let4as. lut
now we have Christmas ! It wsis a kind • Previ'
deuce that fixed that day in the dr, ar an l dt solace
season ; it conies amid the frosts of winter with its
warm sympathies aid kindly feelings, cheering as a!)
oasis in the desert. All things announce that this
glad season is at hand. We have already noticed
those gorgeous volumes, the annuals, par exce lence
destined as gifts of friendship and afts_tioe ; now pre
must speak of another annual, truly Chriv'mas it' ifs
character, that tells of home and domestic enjoyment'
and the fond delights of the fireside—" The Cricket on
the Hearth." Two winters have passed since the ar
pearance of "The Christmas Carol," the first ef
Dickens's annuals ; its success was undisputed.—i!
wes received with that instantaneous and usqualifi'°
applause ever accorded to boi ks that echo the feelings
ot the multitude. It was a tale most appropriate to the
season, showing the mighty power of Christmas assonia"
tions even upon the most stern and cold. The character
of Scrooge seemed ill suited to a Christmas carol;
stern and repulsive in demeanour, cold to his relatives'
harsh to his inferiors, without a single Christy.°
attribute, his very description chilled all s 3 rnpotbl;
we could expect from him nothing to interest LI.
amuse. This was a fitting subject to show 1111.'
Dickens's power : like a potent wizard he can throw a
charm round all he touches, his power lies in ltd
knowledge of the heart; he showed us that even this,
wretched man possessed human sympathy, and tht
there he was assailable. His thoughts we re led back
to the Christmas of the past, he recalled the bright
scenes of his youth ; the days of his happy childh°,
tassed before him, and the stern man was subdutd
heir memory ; then his thoughts were turned towarid
a future Christmas when he should sleep in the o'.
grave, the prospect inspired an awful apprehensieT
fear and memory alike combined to change his heal
and with new and happier feelings he prepared to ~..,"
the " Christmas present." Such was the tale of the
power of Christmas, its truth was owned and °P;
plauded by all. Next year appeared "The Chimed'o
very different in construction, yet, evidently writt,„e
with the same intention of calling forth kindly
pathies. 'I he theme was Very dissimilar; it en.d3l4cit
a wider field, and told of the sorrows of the poor•„ir
showed us their manifold woes and sufferings, t''''oll
misery and oppression, yet it told how, through..o
their dreary path of lite, the stream of love ran pure
and deep, fertilising all around.
" Men may differ, but affection
Dwells in rich and per the same."• and
The dreadful privations of the true.-hearted Met.
her fond enduring affection, told throulsh the tut
0./010
0
of her father's dream, spoke to the 4)earts of all
the powerful language of nature. The third
which has just appeared, is unlike either of its pr7to
cessors, except in the same constant endeavouro,
awaken Christmas feelings. The tale is very siniPoos
hut the moral is all-powerful—its object is to increeos
domestic happiness, and to show the mighty in flue
of the fireside. Like the blithe little creature Wif
name it beats, it is lively, cheerful, anitnatet
i.
and amusing ; yet one passage is of more than Iris
nary power, full of deep and earnest feeling• yed
to
when the poor carrier fancies his wife has be
belief'
him ; and, apparently, he has good reason for theof
Ills enemy is beneath his roof—a:4lots the
revenge and murder fill his soul—when,oses
voice of the cricket, chirping on the hearth, dok
the memory ot his domestic bliss, and chases tkef
shadows from his heart. The ft'llowing is brle
tract from this powerful scene : by "
Though the power ot Omnipotence had besndisise-
f
wield at that moment, he had too much of its
ej 00
properly of mercy in his breast, to have tulloool
feather's weight of it against her. But be could nbeta be
to see her crouching wn upon the little seat vl ioor
had ult. n looked cn her, with love and prides 1501011
cent and gay; and when al, e rose and le 11;°'
as she west, he felt it a relief to have the vaca;:esee'',
beside him rather than her so long cherished P.„iselisel
I his in itself was anguish keener than all: rvre free
him how desolate he was become, and bow im
,
bond of his life was rent asunder. be i°
The more he felt this, and the more be knewrej c
have better borne to see her lying prelvatti" t"
before him with their little child upon her br.° epode
higher and the stronger rose his wrath against big t
He looked about him for a weapon. tool‘ti
ls
There was a gun hanging on the wall- *or of 0
down, and moved a pace or two towards the 00
perfidious stranger's room. He knew .111 Pto bio
loaded. Some shadowy idea that it was ,lust IP! ei
this man like a wild beast, seized him; and (I„""cotatned
mpoisnedesusinothil
ofit ghrimew, icnatsotiangmoonusttarilluassmtdiineldmzenron:l::::;tl
set.itir):gatipphirlsuendisiv,,id;odhge„mpNiroe.t
trod
thoughts, but artfully transforming ibein
them into scourges to drive him on. Te.rina&
into blood, love into hate, gentleness into blind rob'
Her image sorrowing, humbled, Lut still plesdinger
left
teaderness and mercy with resistless power, vel dooft
his mind; but staying there, it urged him to the
raised the weapon to his shoulder;
.fitted and "._
bed sit
his finger to the trigger; and cried, Kill him! D'
He reversed the gun to
beatthe
4e already held it lifted in the
design wee in his throughts of calling
out to him toff' satiorc ; k upon
some
indistinctrhe d
for God's sake, by the window—.
light; and the Cricket
whole chimney with a glow of-
When, suddenly, the struing fire illumi.nekdeta;
the Hearth began to chirp!
No sound he could have beard;
no human v.oicl:
even her's; could so have moved and softened buu.oss for
artless words in which she had told him of her.l 7 bet
this same Cricket, were once more freshly quafnigein
trembling, earnest manner at the moment, "'a 0)0
before him ; her pleasant voice—oh what
at the
it was, for making; household music d ibrosgb
fireside of an honest maul—thrilled through cti .
his better nature, and awoke it into life and sew in big
He recoiled from the door, like a ma.. walkiAngnat the
sleep, awakened from a frightful dream ;an then
gun aside. Clasping his hands before his face,o trog.
sat down again beside the fire, and found rerlefi! rootth
The Cricket on the Heath came out into the
se
and teod in fairy shape before him.
" I love it," said the fairy voice, repeating " herd
w.li remembered, "for the many times I ha" brill°
it, and the many thoughts its harmless music hes
me."

"She said 5.,!" cried the carrier. " True r IV°
“This has been a happy home, John and
the Cricket for its sak! carrier
" I Ctr has been, Heaven knows," returned the
" She made it happy, always—until novv." ;drab
" So gracefully sweet-tempered; eet- tempered ; so domestic,
busy, and light heartull" said the voice. diaf
Otherwise I never could have loved her as
returned the carrier.
, 110
The voice, correcting him, said " do."
The carrier repeated "as I did." But not firn'l. in
faltering tongue resist, d his control, and would apes
its on wa, for itself and. m. bed
The figurye, in au attitudehi uf invocation, raised its
and said:
Upon your own hearth"— reieri
" The hearth she has blighted," interposed the 50`i
" The hearth she has—how often !—blessed
11°'
brightened," said the Cricket: " the hearth whi-r',oo'
for her, were only a few stones and 'icks allut foot
bars, but which has been, through her, the altar °,, v'ettY
home; on which you have nightly sacrificed s°l'3,;Tisge
4-)v
passion, selfishness, or care, and offered up the "rfloe
of a tranquil mind, a trusting nature, and an !.iinrief
ing heart; so that the smoke from this poor e";iebet
has gene upward with a better fragrance than the .1 the
incense that is burnt before the riche st shrines
gaudy temples of this world!—Upon your own ',le ie'
in its quiet sanctuary; surrounded by its ge,n- Peair
fluences and associations ; hear her! hear Me' b
everything that speaks the language of your hearth
home!"
" And pleads for her?" inquired the carrier. betoth
" All things that speak the language of
and home must plead for her!" returned the Cr
For they speak the truth." oclf,
And while the carrier, with his head upon his,.bpseve°
continued to sit meditating in his chair, the Pi- o.en
stood beside him; suggesting hi, reflections by i,Tturio
and presenting them before him, as in a glass or l'''torle,
It was not a solitary presence. From the hear
from e chimney; from the clock, the pipe, the 11%0,1
and the cradle; from the floor, the walls, the board
the stairs; from the cart without, and the etlPii,4
within, and the household implements; from ever}
and evk ry place with which she had ever been flig'l 0,0
and with which she bad ever entwined one reconec,..nie
your
of herself in her unhappy husband's mind ; fairie6 L„.710t
tr,oping forth. Not to staed beside him as the Cr'
did, but to busy al d bestir themselves. To do allh'n to
to her image. To pull him by the skirts, and P 0,0,4
it when it appeared. 'Co cluster round it, and "3' )01
O
it, and strew flowers for it to tread on. To try t° Cbri
its fair head with their tiny hands. To show that I,,re
were fond of it and heed it; and that there was Ifirtae
ugly, wicked, or accusatory creature to claim kilo
of it—none but their playful and approving seives' 0.1)
His thoughts were constant to her image. '"
always there. 6°5
No writer possesses more power over the eol°
than "Buz." When we read his pages we surren"e,,e
dominion of our feelings ; smiles and tears are alto
his disposal. His pages are bright and sPlr'i.,*e
full of warmth and merriment ; the must common"r,,ell
affairs interest and amuse when graced by his 'lift!
fancy, yet ever andanon, amid all this wit and Pio,
comes some passage of deep and touching iii
such
choly, some heart-sorrow, pourtraved with "or
mournful beauty, such earnest taithrulnes,, that.
smiles all vanish, and uncontrolled emoti,n atte!t.th°
truth and po Nen Such ehan..tes are frequent 100 e,
page of " Boz ''The few who know him, but by oad
may speak of him as an author formed for wit "Itf
liveliness, but those who are familiar with hi'
wilt own that his vivid fancy andlively 'l,
illustrsti4o
are only second to the deep feeling that pervad'ser
writings, to the touching pictures, his pen is eetii
ful pourtray,—the extremes of wit and feeling!:
united on his page—this, indeed, is the secret 0: ,Ire
power. Let it not he supposed from this that
Cricket" is a melancholy story—far from it; it 17P
cheerful, pleasant narrative, as a tale of home show