The Sun.
London, England, 1845-05-01 00:00:00

BENTLEYS MISCELLANY.

Bentley is, as usual, full of amusement; leaving
political affairs, and all such serious matters, for the
consideration of graver periodicals, the lively Miscel-
lany seeks to entertain, and in that it succeeds to the
and pleasant style, it eifectu;l7y written in angfilsii
" dull care," and interests without fatiguing. The
first tale, however, must be excepted from this list.
" The Marchioness of Brinvilliers" is, alas! not only
terrible, but true. We could wish the writers of
romance would only lend their powers of fancy to
embellish the records of. virtue and heroism, and be
content to leave such scenes of horror to the oblivion
they deserve. In this Number we have an account
of the first and most dreadful crime committed by the
wretched Marchioness, when she delivered the cup of
poison to her unconscious father, even while he blessed
her. We gladly turn from this gloomy tale to those
which follow. the Lost Mantle" Is an amusing
account of the wild adventures of Gaston of Orleans,
the brother of Louis XIII. " The Writ of Error "
describes the embarrassing mistakes arising from that
frequent source of perplexity, a mis-directed letter.
The " Lins on the• Death of Leman Blanchard" are
full of feeling, and well suited to the mournful occa-
sion. The " Gaol Chaplain " is not so gloomy as
usual ; it contains some reflexions on game-preserving,
which all the arguments of the Hon. Mr. Grantley
Berkeley would be unable to refute.
" There must exist a class of men in this country to
whom, strange as it may appear, unpopularity is grate-
ful—men who revel in the execration of their fellows,
and glory_ in incurring a formidable share of public
odium. Upon this principle may be understood the
selkomplacency of game preservers. A greater curse
to a community cannot exist in an agricultural district ;
and those most conversant with the poor—with
their privations, habits, feelings, and tempta-
tions will be the first to exclaim, ' if you wish to ruin a
village population ; if you desire rapidly to introduce
among them demoralization and insubordination; if your
aim be to brutalize them—to make them bad fathers and
bad husbands—insolent to their employers and disaffected
to their Superiors—worthless and desperate—persuade
some lauded proprietor to come amongst them who is a
stickler for the game-laws, and resolved at all risks to
have his covers strictly preserved.' In point of fact,
game preservers inflict infinite damage on a community.
They are, in many points of view, obnoxious to its wel-
fare. Farmers incur heavy loss by the depredations of
game. Labourers suffer injury by the want of employ
ment, since it is a well established and notorious fact
is an
that in any district where there is much game, it
utter impossibility
.to have good farming. The commu-
nity, as a body, is injured ; first, by the destruction of
food which game occasions ; and next by the
facilities.
and temptations to crime which game afflaids. Au agrt-
cultgal labourer earns 91. a week. „fillarj e night's

poaching will bring him 20s. Is is wonderful that gaols
require new wings, and that the crowded state of our pri-
sons calls for a winter assize ? The cause of this per-
petual increase of misery and crime—where is it to be
found ? In the laws enacted and maintained for the
amusement of the country gentry. The last are the
parties who convert their fellow-creatures into crimi-
nals. The disappointed poacher is, by rapid and easy
progress, converted into a robber. Precluded by. vigi-
lance of keepers, or isy an unexpected augmentation of
watchers from taking game, the agricultural labourer
will enter his master's fold, and take a sheep ; or he
will stealthily climb into his master's bare, and take his
oorn. A poacher's calling and habits have depraved
him. He has lost all sense of right and wrong. But
who has caused this sad and wondrous change in his
character ? Let the game preserver supply the answer."
" Mr. Yellowly's Doings," from the pen of
Charles Whitehead, is a not very uncommon tale of
the seasonable assistance of an Indian uncle. " Out-
pourings" consists of some lively recollections of the
actors of by-gone days, and, among others, of many
anecdotes of Charles Mathews. We have also an-
other account of George Brummell, that never-
ending source of amusement. It is strange, while so
many worthy men die and are forgotten, the memoirs
of this celebrated "Beau" are brought forward again
and again, and never seem to weary. We subjoin
an account of his melancholy downfal

"At last, however, the hour in which a man is as no-
thing to any one else,—the hour of misfortune, arrived.
His ruin was consummatEd ; he knew it : with dandy
apathy he had calculated, watch in band, the time that
he ought to remain on the field of battle, the theatre of
the most wonderful social success that a man of the
world ever had, and he determined to show no humilia-
tion at the close of his career. On the 6th of May, 1816,
after dining on a fowl from Waiter's, and drinking a
bottle of Bordeaux, Brummell wrote hastily and hope-
lessly the following note to his friend, Scrope Davies :
My dear Scrope—Lead me 2001. The banks are
shut, and all my money is in the Three per Cents. It
shall be repaid to-morrow morning.—Yours,
GEORGE BRUMMELL.'
" The reply was Spartan in brevity and friendship :
It is very unfortunate, but all my money is in the
Three per Cents.—Yours, ‘SCROPE DAVIES.'
" Brummell was too much of a dandy to be hurt at
this answer, and, as Captain Jesse sensil'ly remarks, he
was not a man to moralise upon it. There was a cruel
dryness in Scrope's answer ; but it was not vulgar ; be-
tween dandy and dandy their honour was safe. Brum-
mell perused the note, and dressed stoically for the
opera. He was as a phceaix is on the pile—unlike in
this, that he knew he should never rise from his ashes.
To see him, who would have known him for a doomed
man ? That night he vvai at Dover, and the next in
France."

We must not omit an account of "the discovery
of the Oregon territory," not written in any political
view, but tending to prove, beyond a doubt, that the
prior discovery of that disputed country is due to
" our countrieman, Sir Francis Drake."