The Sun.
London, England, 1844-05-01 00:00:00

THE- SUN, LONDON, WEDNESDAY-

-MAGAZINE DAY.

BLACKIVuOY S JIAGAZLVE.

The opening. article in the present Number is on
the subject of the " Increase of Crime—an increase
which the writer with cool impudence attributes to
the Liberals, observing :—" They shut their eyes to
this, because it affords a sad illustration of the effect
of their favourite theories, which for a quarter of a
century have been, under the direction of her :Ala-
jesty's Ministry or her Maiesty's Opposition, in al-
most ceaseless operation." Now, it happens that the
party whose principles are thuslooldly stated to have
increased the amount of crime in the country, have
invariably made every effort in their power to
dimi-
nish it, by the prudence—the liberality—and the en,
lightened character of their views. Who first pro-
,
posed to relax the demoralising severity of the cri-
minal code ? Who first softened the atrocities of the
• game• laws ? Who first advocated a system of general
education, and strove to enlighten the masses on the
subject of their political privileges ? Who, but these
maligned Liberals, who are yet taunted by Black-
wood with having swelled the amount of crime in the
country ! The great, unquestionable parent of crimi-
nality among nations, as among individuals, is igno-
rance • and if a vast mass of this still exists among
us, the Tories—and the Tories only—are to thank
for it. The writer goes on to observe :—" Govern-
ment, meanwhile, albeit fully aware of the danger,
is not sufficiently strong to do anything to arrest it."
There is some truth in this, for Sir Robert Peel,
notwithstanding he has a majority of ninety at his
back, and a Cabinet crammed full of aristocrats, is
powerless, apparently, for any purposes of good. He
has just strength enough to keep himself at the helm,
and that seems to be about the extent of his influ-
ence. " Rhine and Rhinelanders" opens with an in-
flated panegyric of the picturesque beauties of the
Rhine. The theme is an intolerably hacknied one,
and has employed the pens of one half the scribblers
in the three kingdoms. Every one now-a-days
rushes across the Channel, to take a peep at the over-
rated Rhine, but few ever dream of exploring the
more inland beauties of our own Thames ; and yet
from Henley to nearly Oxford, passing through the
King's Meadows at Reading—under. the wooded
groves of Sunning—at the foot of the cliffs at Cavers-
ham, and the lawny slopes and springs of Cliefden,
there is scarcely another river in Europe so rich and
luxuriant in its scenery as this calm and majestic
-stream. " The Monster-Misery of Literature is a
clever quiz on the prevalent taste for novel-reading,
which the writer says, and with truth, has infected
all classes of the community. In " Indian Affairs"
there is a spirited defence of Lord Ellenborough
from the opposition which he has encountered in
almost all quarters. " Much of the hostility directed
against him," we are t01d,." is owing to his resolute
emancipation of himself from the bureaucracy of
secretaries and members of council, who had been
accustomed to exercise control over his predecessor."
We believe there is much truth in the remark. From
" Marston, or the Memoirs of a Statesman," we sub-
join a sketch of the hero's interview, with Robes-
pierre :
On reaching the barrier, we turned off to the quarter
of the Luxembourg, and stopped at the gate of a mo-
derate-sized house, where my conductor and I entered.
I was shown into a small and simple room ; where I
found a man advanced in years, and of a striking aspect.
He said not a word. I had no inclination to speak.
The one or two hesitating syllables which I addressed to
him were answered only by a bow and a look, as if he
did not understand the language ; and I awaited the ap-
proach of the terror of France, and horror of Europe,
during half an hour which seemed to me interminable.
The door at last opened, a valet came in, and the'name
.of " Robespierre" thrilled through every fibre ; but, in-
stead of the frowning giant to which my fancy had in-
voluntarily attached the name, I saw . a slight figure,
highly dressed, and even with the air of a fop on the stage.
Holding a perfumed handkerchief in one hand, which
he waved towards his face like one indulging in the-fra-
grance, and a diamond snuff-box in the .other, he ad.-
vanced with a sliding step ; and after a sallow smile to
me, and a solemn bow to the old man, congratulated
himself on the " honour of the acquaintance, which he
had been indebted to his friend Elnathan for making, in
my person." I was all astonishment—l had come in ex-
pectation of receiving my death-warrant—l had a recep-
tion like an ambassador. I naw perplexed myself with
the idea that I had been mistaken for some stranger in
the foreign diplomacy ; but I was instantly set right by
his pronouncing my name, and making some allusions to
" the influence of my family in the British Parliament."
Yet, I was still in the tiger's den, and I expected to
feel the talons. I was happily disappointed ; the claw
was sheathed in velvet. A slight refection was brought
in by an embroidered domestic, and it was evidently the
wish of this tremendous demagogue to appear the man
of refinement, at least in my instance.
" My friend Elnathan," said he, " has informed me
that you wish to return to England ?"
This was pronounced in the meekest tone of interro-
gatory ; and, with eyes scarcely raised to either of us,
he awaited my confirmation of his idea.

It was given unhesitatingly ; and my glance at the
eountenance of the old man was answered by another
which told me that I saw the correspondent of my friend
Mordecai.

"The circumstances are simply these," said the Dic-
tator, in the same delicate tone ; the Government has
occasion to arrange some matters of importance with
the British Cabinet. The successes of the Republic
have raised jealousies, which it is for the advantage of
human nature that we should reconcile if possible.
France and England are the only free countries ; their
hostility can only be injurious to freedom."
lie paused, and his cold grey eye, after crossing the
floor, was slowly raised to me.
I admitted my perfect agreement in the opinion, that
" wherever national conflict could be avoided, it was the
business of all rational men to maintain peace." I saw
a grim smile pass over his sallow features, probably at
having found another dupe. Elnathan sat in profound
silence, without a muscle moved.
pstirit it
arigeinetl
btahic.raJsessmv'esnhta„,n,tilt.h
wHheienhohwish
Robespierre, rising, took from a portfolio a letter, and
nt!ss had marked his first address, and spoke largely, and
lamdbigtuoatloneerrvotlirs!
with a considerable expression of authority.
"The English Government," said he, "have expressed
some unnecessary uneasiness at the progress of opinion
in Europe. The late victory, which has decided the fate
of the Austrian Netherlands, will probably increase that
uneasiness. Communications through the usual channels
are slow, iniF,,rlect, and open to espionage on all sides.
I have, therefore, applied to my friend Elnathan to point
out some individual in whom he has perfect confidence,
and through whom the communication can be made. He
has named you."

BENTLEY' S MISCELLANY.
Albert Smith manages to keep up his story of the
" Scattergood Family" with spirit, though we must
object to the present portion of it, that some of the
incidents are too much spun out, as if forthe mere pur-
pose of filling up space. The most vigorous scene in
the chapters before us is the account of the street row
between the boys of Merchant Tailors' School and
those of Christ's Hospital, and the running away of
young Frederick Vincent from the latter establish-
ment, from a natural disinclination to be flogged.
The description of his night wandering through Ep-
ping Forest, and of the visionary horrors with which
lie was beset, while bivouacking in the hollow of a
large beech tree, reminds us of the free and easy man-
ner of Captain Maryatt. The " Omen" is a pass-
able poem, in which an attempt—not remarkably suc-
cessful—is made at the facetious. " Visit to Sand-
wich" is a minute and circumstantial account of one
of Queen Elizabeth's numerous visits to this decayed
and old-fashioned town, then a place of some conse-
quence. In a short paper, entitled " Indian Luxuries,"
the author furnishes us with a plesant description of
some of the daily annoyances, arising from the exces-
sive heat of the climate, to which English residents
in the East are at all times liable. His details of the
incessant activity and perseverance of the insect tribe,
who in India are in season all the year round, by no
means prepossess us in favour of that much belauded
country. The " Vetturino" is a continuation of an
amusing prose -tale, whose scene is laid for the most
part in Switzerland, that was commenced in last
month's Miscellany. A little judicious abridgement
would not have misbecome the present chapters. The
" Sportsman's Fireside" is a lively, good-humoured,
domestic sketch, by an author who signs himself
Paul P. endergast. The " Fatal Mark" is a story of
deep tragic interest, whose leading incident—namely,
that a
.loung French officer marrying a beautiful girl,
whom, immediately after his nuptials, he discovers to
have murdered her first lover, and to have been
branded on the shoulders by the common executioner
—might be turned to some account at one of our
minor theatres. Mr. Murray's " Physiology of
London Life" is rather languid and heavy this month,
compared with some of the former chapters. The
best passage in it is the brief but forcible sketch of a
London thunder-storm. " Mike Leary" is a whim-
sical extravaganza, told in a delicious Irish brogue.
Mike, it seems, was a " broth of a boy," who dwelt
in one of the wildest parts of Ireland ; and one fine
evening it came to pass that a strange black gentle-
man paid him a visit at his solitary cottage among
the mountains. This stranger was no other than the
Devil, and his host no sooner discovered his quality,
than he slily made him fast by the tail to a nail in
the wall, and then ran off at a break-neck pace for
the priest. On the latter's arrival a diverting scene
ensued, which we give in the narrator's own words:—

" Whin they reached the house, a very sa ate sane of
confusion they saw. The chairs looked as if they 'd
been havin' a deadly battle wid one another, for legs
and arms were strewed in all directions ; the table had
gone clane mad, and had cut its capers till it fell down
all of a heap ; a whole side of bacon was br'ilin' on the
fire, and the divil had basted it wid the frying-pan. The
tie/ had taken one swate pig by his purty little tail, and
broken its nose against the wall, and had clawed the
ear of anoder, and swallowed the whole ; but, worse
than all, he had danced upon the whiskey-cask, and
smashed it to smithereens ; but the roarin' lion didn't
forgit first of all to dhrinlc the whiskey, and a blind man
might have seen that the baste was roarin' dhrunk.
‘• Whin Mike saw all this, he didn't spake a word ;
he only said to hims,lf, '1 'in Mhhter
that ye 'll be rather payin' for yer sport.'
" The moment Mike and the praste intemd, he was
quiet-as any helpless iamb-; he shlunk into the corner,

. _
like a well-whipped cur, and would have put his tail !
'oe6vane his legs, only he couldn't.
" 'Ho ! ye 're here, are ye ?' says the praste.
" Not a word did the divil reply.
" The divil's in it, but we 'll find manes to make ye
spake and sass he, Mike, be afther givin' me some
wather ;' and Make gave his riverince the wather, and
his riverince blessed it, and turned it to holy wather
intirely, and thin his riverince dipped his hand into it, i
gave the divil a -taste o' it ;. and didn't it •go into him
like scaldtn' broth ;. be dad, but it. did ; and how he
roared, and how he groaned, while Mike and the praste
larfed outright, and well they might. •
" Now, thin, ye_brimstone-stinkin' baste ! what have
ye got to say for. yersilf ?'
" The unfortunate divil could only groan. Yid that
the praste give him a taste more of the wather.
" Spake, and be damned !' cried he. 'lt 's yerself
that shall remimber cornin' to Ballyhaugh.'
" The poor divil managed to squeke out,—' Let me
go ! let me go ! and I 'll be on my oath niver to come
widin fifty miles of yer riverince
" will?' said his riverince; ' yes, I dare say ye
will; but, do yer think I'm such a fool as to take a
divil's oath? not L I'll have yer bond; yes, yer bond,
Misther Div 1, and brake it if yer dare.'
" The divil signified his willingness to comply wid
any tarms to get free. Mike wanted to try the effects
of the shillelagh on his skull, but the praste would'nt
have it all; he had- no objection to taze, but he didn't
like committin' murther ; besides, his riverince had an
eye to business, for he knew that rootin' out the divil,
like oder ill wades, made work.

" Mike, by the praste's desire, produced a skin, and
his riverince sat himself down to write, and he wrote an
agramint as long as a homily. He tied the divil down
in all sorts of ways niver ag'in to show his nose in
Ballyhaugh; there was all sorts of curses and anathemis,
and the like; and he made the divil promise to ate him-
silf up if iver he broke his bond. The like of this
writin' ye won't often meet wid. When it was finished,
he gave it to the divil to sign, and what should he do to
make the barg'in more bindin', but open a vein, and
write his divilish name wid his blood.

" And now,' said he, to be sure, kind sir, ye'll be
afther lettin' me go? Come, undo the halter, for I
assure you it begins to make me fale rather oncom-
fortable.'

" "ro be sure! to be sure!' says the praste, and
wid thai he wint behind him, pertindin' to undo the
halter; but, faix! he took up his chopper, and wid one
clane blow cut off the tip of the diva's tail. Sathan gave
a bellow that would have quieted a thousand big roarin'
guns, and widout so much as sayin' good night to ye,
bounced through the-winder. The noise the divil made
drove Mike against the wall, and quite stunned the poor
lad, but nothin' the baste could do had any effect on his
blessed riverince, who cried out, :as the divil flew away,
" Ha! ha! me boy, there ye go wid yer tail off; but
River mind, there's plenty o' places where they retail
bad spirits,' and wid that his riverince picked up the
tail, and he and Mike made thirnselves comfortable, and
ate their suppers quite well.'
" Now, then," continued Tim, " I've only to tell yer
honours that the blessed jewel that ye've been favoured
wid a sight of, is the very tail that the devil worn whin
he visited Mike Leary on the night o' the famous storm.
And, can yer honours concave anythin' mere precious
and beautiful. Here it is, and here it shall be as long
as the world. stands.

" I'll just conclude by tellin' yer honours what became
of Mike, and the praste, and the other paple. TO begin
wid the halter; by express desire, it was sent to his
holiness at Rome, and his holiness was so delighted wid
it, and so sure that it would put him into the right road,
that he hung himself wid it. What became of the divil
I have niver exactly larnt, but 'tis quite sartin that
since that night he has'nt been so free wid his personal
visits, and much more particular in the company he
kapes."