The Sun.
London, England, 1844-12-02 00:00:00

if we remember rightly, remarked on the ceremonious
gravity of the Yankee character, which has little of the
freshness of natural youth about it—a consequence,
no doubt, of the people's exclusive and inveterate at-
tention to business and the accumulation of money.
The writer was delighted with the ladies of New York,
whose appearance he thought extremely prepossessing.
" They are so infinitely superior to the men," he ob-
serves, " that one cannot help wondering how such
very pretty girls should have such exceedingly ordi-
nary-looking mortals for fathers and brothers." The
" Tempted" i 3 a story which does not rise above
mediocrity. Our readers, perhaps, may be amused
with Mr. Murray's suggestions to lodging-hunters,
and we subjoin them according :
If, then, you like your landlady, and her terms, be as
liberal as you can afford ; have a care of extras, and be
as rigorous as you please in settling what you shall have
to pay for them; but it is judicious, in the matter of
rent, not to attempt putting on the screw ; for if you
put on the screw, your hostess, depend on't, will take off
the lock !

Insist upon having a street-door key ; this puts an
end to all sorts of nonsense about regular hours, and also
is an act of humanity tuwards the poor servants who
may be compelled, after the labour of the day, to await
your return from the play, opera, or evening party, half
the night ; if there is any demur upon this head, you may
rest assured that you will not find yourself comtbrtable.
It is by no means necessary, or, indeed, desirable, that
you should be out late at night ; but it is essential that
you should be master of your own hours, and absolute in
your comings and goings ; for, if you are not permitted
the social comforts and cheering influences of a home, it
is hardly necessary for you to put yourself under petti-
coat government. _

Insist, al.;o, upon having cupboard keys, and begin as
you will find it necessary to end, by locking everything
up. No doubt the landlady is strictly honest ;we could
not doubt it for a moment ; Betty, too, carries in her
face a perpetual open Jettar of recommendation ; think
what a sin it would be to throw temptation in the way
of the rigorous virtue of Mrs. Smith, or to endanger, by
promiscuous gin-bottle, or casual tea and sugar, the
immaculate character of Betty ; therefore, I say, lock
up—lock up.
The most curious phenomenon attendant upon London
lodging-houses we have ever noticed, is that of sponta-
neous consumption.
Suppose a bottle of brandy arrives from your wine-
merchant—(of course I mean the public-house at the
corner, but wouldn't say so, except confidentially) ; you
mix one tumbler, which just empties the neck of your
bottle, replace the cork, put it in the cupboard, and
lock it up ; you dine the next day with your friend
Snooks, the celebrated traveller ; the third day Snooks
dines with you upon tripe and onions ; dinner over, you
unlock your cupboard with all the confidence of a gen-
tleman •' not so easily done," taking out your loaf-sugar
and brandy-bottle ; holding the latter up to the light,
you observe with surprise and horror that the brandy
has spontaneously sunk in the bottle at least a guar-
tern. You say nothing about it, lest Snooks should
have tho laugh at you, and conclude not to mention it
to your landlady, lest she might think you a mean fellow.
This is what I call spontaneous consumption.
In like manner, when you purchase a pound of five-
shilling mixed—your landlady's canister holds exactly a
pound—you press it ►ell into the canister, and find on
shaking it, that the contents do not make any noise—in
fact, the canister is full ; you breakfast with Snooks, who
is starting for Timbuctoo next morning, and return
home to tea ; taking down your canister, to accept the
polite invitation of Ridgway and Co., whose bill requests
you to " try their five-shillings mixed," you give it a
shake, and discover that it rattles !
This is another case of spontaneous consumption.
This mysterious law of nature affects sugar, which in the
course of a couple of days we have known to evaporate
from a pound of ninepenny down to not enough for
breakfast ; butter oozes imperceptibly through the sides
of your boat, so that you cannot for the life of you
make out what has become of the pound you paid for the
morning before yesterday ; coals, though of a heavy
nature, fly off with woundrous rapidity, if you lay them
in yourself ; if your landlady provide them, you have
only to wonder how coals came to be worth a sixpence a
scuttle-full.

- Lodging-houses, lige other commonwealths, have their
peculiar taxes, levied " towards carrying on the war,"
upon the subjects of her Majesty, Mrs. Smith, and ge-
nerally collected by Betty. This amounts to from five
to ten per cent. upon every article you require, or have
occasion to send out fur, and is something in the nature
of a broker's fee, or transfer-tax. A pound of mutton-
chops pays from a penny to twopence, according to the
taste of the landlady—twopence if she cuts it fat ; deli-
cacies, such as fowl, game, or fish, considerably higher—
the taxation in these cases proceeding upon the income-
tax principle, that you can afford it ; a lobster is charged
in your weekly bill not so much according to its fresh-
ness as your own ; cabbages are taxed according to the
greenness of the vegetable, and of the lodger.
Thus, whichever way you go to work, you are sure to
be " done ;" lay in your own consumables, they disap-
pear by spontaneous combustion ; send Betty for them ;
they pay Mrs. Smith's tax ; you can take your choice.

AIN SW OR7'H' S MAGAZINE.
Mr. Ainsworth's tale of " Saint James's" is here
brought to a close. The last scene is a quarrel be-
tween Bolingbroke and the Earl of Oxford, in the
presence of Queen Anne, which is described with
more easy, natural vigour than any other incident in
the work. The author has made as much of his sub-
ji.ect as it was possible to make, but the period is not
one very suited to the purposes of romance. The
politics of the day were mean and tricky, without the
slightest particle of elevation and comprehensiveness,
and the statesmen were worthy of the politics ; the
manners of the Court and aristocracy were cold, pre-
cise, and formal ; and the prevailing literature was
not less stiff and artificial. It is evident that there
is little here for romance to work on—romance which
loves the showy and the picturesque, and which de-
generates into mere c-immon-place if it have not
vigour and variety of character. Instead of being
surprised that Mr. Ainsworth has made so little of
his subject, we are surprised that he has made so
much of it. But if his " Saint James's "be deficient
in the elements of romance, not so his " Revela-
tions of London," which abound in them to over-
flowing. The present chapters are full of startling,
melodramatic incident, but we must honestly confess
it is not much to our taste, for we have no relish for
diablerie, unless—as in the instances of Peter
Schlemible and Undine—it is made to illustrate and
work out some wholesome principle—to inculcate
some great moral truth. This was the redeeming
merit of Godwin's St. Leon, one of the grandest
conceptions to be found in modern literature. " A
Jar of Honey from Mount Hybla " contains some
thoughtful remarks suggested by the " Sicilian ITes-
pen, with which every reader of history is familiar ;
and also a passing allusion to " Young England,"
from which we infer that Mr. Leigh Hunt is strongly
disposed to sympathise with the views of that rising
party. The " Governor's Daughter" is an interest-
ing story, the scene of which is laid in the province
of New Mexico. An "Anecdote of Old Townshend"
is a passable bit of gossip, which should have been
told with more humour. The " Man with a Griev-
ance " is a pleasant essay, full of point and archness.
There is strict truth in the following remark :
" All are fish .that come to the net of a man with a
grievance. He is not particular about his listener,
but a listener he must catch. In a case of despera-
tion, the crossing 'sweeper or the apple-woman—what
sufferings will sad humanity undergo for a penny !
must be seized on as a recip:ent of the story of his
wrongs." A " Triad of Sonnets," suggested by Wil-
son's picture of Solitude, evince considerable promise.
The sketch of a solitary grass-grown dell, where the
"aged trees look fatherly," and which seems as
though "it had not altered since the world was
made," is very vividly and poetically pourtrayed.
"Prometheus Vinctus is a clever ironical parody
of ...Eschylus's noble drama. Daniel O'Connell is
Prometheus, and the chorus is composed of fishwives
and repealers. Viscount Maidstone is the author of
this amusing squib. A "Night in a Fog" contains
one or two good theatrical anecdotes, which we sub-
join. The first alludes to the elder Kean :
" Among other anecdotes of this actor, which Mr.
Mulligatawny Jackson's schoolmaster had preserved,
was one of his having, when at the zenith of his fame,
ordered at Ford's, a house at the corner of Vinegar-
yard, Drury-lane, a plain joint and pudding to be got
ready daily for such of the poor actors as might choose
to partake of it. He also told a story of the great
actor's setting off for Bath, accompanied by his secre-
tary, in his private carriage, who, as night came on, fell
asleep. Towards morning, and while still at some dis•
tance from the town, he awoke, and was astonished to
find that Kean had left the carriage. He immediatel

stopped the postboys to inquire they had seen-iin
get out, but they pleaded ignorance. The secretary in-
stantly left the vehicle, and wandered into the fields, de-

scribing Mr. Kean to the few hinds ho met, as a little
man wrapped in furs, &c., and offering a reward to any
one who could give tidings of him. But no one had
seen him. The postboys, who had their cue, begged of
him to get into the carriage, and drive to the nearest inn,
Which the terrified young man did, after he had made
the fields echo with the cry of Oh, Lord Hamlet !
What ho ! my Lord Hamlet !' the character in which
Kean was to make his appearance ; but no Lord Hamlet
answered. They drove on ; when just as they were
about to enter the inn-yard, another carriage and four
drove furiously up, and, to the astonishment of his secre-
tary, Kean descended, accompanied by a travelling,
pedlar, whom he had met on the road. This man con-
tinued with him while he remained at Bath, drinking
champagne, and feasting sumptuously every day at his
own 'table. Kean absolutely brought him up to town in
his carriage, setting him down in Bow-street, one cold
November morning, saying to his secretary, as he did so,
Put your hand in your pocket, and the first thing you
touch, . give him.' The young man did as he was
'directed, and the result was, the pedlar left them some
tenor twenty pounds better off than when they met.
s-
" Yes,' continued the barrister, though Edmund
Kean ha. many -failings, he had some good qualities to
atone for them, and amongst them great and uncalculat •
lite. generosity. Ms 1' het
the greatest audience he e;e7dent on, ' I was present at
foufntehrealp.
Maeready one
rew —and that was at his
all-bearers 11souwas
an
d chiefa on: to 'la
rsh:tiorn: andtd d of the fra te - 1
distance from his
m4y- followed. It was a very
house. to the churchyard, but Richmond
of heads. Some thousands of people green
wpas a sea 1
Yes; Tsaw the last of him, both there and onettieress stage
(the dem i-neg,ro looked, as he spoke, pathetically) •
0133011)er it,as if but yesterday. For many years ho