The Sun.
London, England, 1842-07-01 00:00:00

MAGAZINE DAY.

L4CKTVQ.OD-7S. 3'1,4 GA .2',/;,:\W.

, . . .
The tile and Thne's of Cicero—a tempting theme
for a scholar—forms the subject-of _the,' first article in
this Number. From certain peculiarities of thought;
as well as from • the. ripe and ready scholarship it
evinces, we feel disposed to attribute this eloquent and
•, sagacious article to the pen of Mr. De Quincey, whose
learning, instead ofoppressing, acts as a stimulus and a
helpinaid to his fancy. We could have spared, how-
, ever, his sneers at Dr. Middleton's Life of the
illus-
trious Roman orator, which is unquestionably the
hest we possess, notwithstanding its strong,.deter-
mintd bias in favour even of the weaknesses of Cicero.
Mr. De Quincey will not easily induce his readers to
concede to him that Dr. Middleton was but an inferior
scholar, for his brief bid masterly criticisms on the au-
thors who immediately `succeeded Tully, and his stric-
tures on their several styleS, which occur-=if we remem-
ber rightly—in one of the closing chapters of his wOrk,
establish, beyond all possibility of cavil, his claims to
sound scholarship, so far at least as Latin literature is
concerned. The writer's remark that Cicero's " whole
life had been adapted to purposes of ostentation" is
true to the letter. Never was there a public man
more greedy of popular applause; of more inordinate
self-conceit, which was second only to his thirst for
personal aggrandisement;
.or more showy and theatri-
cal in his. tastes. He never allowed his mind to be
seen in its deshabille, Even in his most familiar let-
ters to his most intimate friends one May constantly
detect his love of studied effects. In fact he was
magnificent egotist, and in his vanity and ambition—
the two.. master
_passions that swayed him through
life—reminds us of Lord Chatham. The "Royal
Academy" is .a judicious notice of some of the prin-
cipal -paintings in the recent Exhibition. We per-
fectly agree with the critic that Air. Maclise's Hamlet
" is an ungentlemanly ruffian who never would have
waited for the play, hut would have taken a pleasure
in killing the King on mere suspicion." The charac-
ter, indeed, is much too exaggerated, and conveys not
the slightest idea of the vacillating, thoughtful, melan-
choly Prince of Shakspeare, whose very outbreaks of
emotion are of a comparatively subdued nature. The
Hamlet of Mr. Maclise, unless our recollection decei've
us, is all spasm and convulsion. "Caleb Stukely"
shows considerable power of vigorous writing The
sketch of the winter-day, in the opening passages of
the present chapter, would have delighted Morland by
its true, hOmely touches, so like one of his own-truthful
bits of landscape painting. "Lines upon Letters" is
au elegant poem by Mr-. Simmons, 'founded -on Dr.
Johnson's quaint remark on his 'deathbed, " An odd
thought strikes me ; we shall receive no letters in the
grave." On this text the writer has penned an
elo-
quent discourse. The " World of London" is occu-
' pied, as usual, with some of the most remarkable
' peculiarities of the Modern Babylon. "Touches of
genuine nature," says the author, :4 are to be met with
at a funeral. The artificial is thrown aside ; the mask
we all wear in the business and pleasure of life falls
off." This is sometimes the case, but not often.
the generality of instances a London 'funeral is
little better than a mere formal, routine cere-
where long faces are purposely cultivated
for the occasjon, not from sentiment, but from a
sense of conventional 7 propriety. Mourners, like
mutes, are triste 'as a matter of business, and
the heart has little to do with their show of.
pathos. There are exceptions of course to this rule,
but they are by. no means of frequent occurrence.
" A Record of the Pyramids" is truculent criticism
on Mr. Edmund Reade's'recently published pOem'of
this name. ChriitOpher North here shoulders his
crutch with infinite
,agility, and lets it drop . on
the head of the unhappy bard with an em-
phasis sufficient, to occasion a compound fracture.
"There is no probability," observes Christopher," that
we ever should have thought again about the author,
if in The Sun newspaper,. of May 9, we had not been
attracted to him under the article of Literature, &c.
A Record of the Pyramids.' We should have thought
the criticism a severe one, had we not been induced to
peruse the poem, the preface, and 'the notes. We
then acknowledged the leniency of the reviewer in
making no quotations from the' poetry" We cer-
tainly have some • right to pique ourselves on our
" leniency" towards Mr. Reade, for, hi 5...." Record of
the Pyramids.," with its pompous, methodical com-
mon-places, its gross anachronisms, halting versifica-
tion,. and desperate insubordination to the respectable
authority of Priscian, offered a most tempting theme
for ridicule, which we only restrained out of com-
passion to the author, who had somewhere spoken-of
himself as a martyr -to ill-health. ." Passages in
the Career of El 'Empecinado," the famous Spanish
soldier of fortune, who distinguished himself so highly
during the French invasion of the Peninsula, is full
of romantic interest. .We quote a spirited account
of this enterprising adventurer's hair-breadth escape
from a Spanish prison
The alcayde, or jailer, was lolling in a large well-
stuffeil arm-chair, and opposite to him was seated the
lawyer appointed to conduct Diez's prosecution.- On a
small table between them were placed glasses and a
dusty cobweb-covered bottle, with the contents of which
the two worthies were. solacing themselves, while they
discussed the all•absorbing topic of the day, the trial of
the Empecinado, and its probable, or rather certain ,re-
suit. Asglass afterglass was emptied of the-oily old Xerex
wine, the lawyer rehearsed his speech, the jailer found
guilty, and passed sentence, until, step by step, and be-
fore the bottle was out, the Empecinado had, in itnagina-
don, and somewhat prematurely, been condemned, placed
in capill t, confessed. and led out to execution. Just as •1
the lawyer was conjecturing how he would look with the
rope rotund his neck, sonic one tapped at the dour.
"Ade/toter cried the. jailer, and Cainhza made his
appearance.
" Saar Alcayde," said he, " the corregidor is at the
prison gate, and desires to speak with you.".
Putting on one side the bottle and glasses, the jailer
hurried to, receive. the. Chief it.'istrate of the town, but
as he passed through the door behind which the Ern-
pecinado was coneealed,- the latter -made a sort of buck
leap, with his fetters -upon his feet, and grappled him
like a tiger, seized him by the hair with his left hand,
and with his right, clutching his. throat so as nearly to ,
strangle him. At the same time Cambea threw hiinself
upon the lawyer, whose 'head he ,muftled in his own
cloak, and then, taking him up ill his arms, carried him
bodily to the Empecinado!s- cell, and there locked him
in. Then returning- to the assistance of Dez, they tied
the jailer's • hands, and, putting a gag- in his mouth,
placed him also in the dungeon. The next thing to be
done was to rid the Empeemado of his nianitcles.• which
was soon accomplished . by means of riveting tools fOund
in the jailer's room., .
But they had as, yet. oily surmounted a part of their
difficulties. and much remained tO be denim before they
could consider themselVes in safety, It -is true, they.
had the keys,-and could unlock. the :door. and walk out
of the prison, but the streets were swarming with French'
soldiers, through. whom they would have to run the.
gauntlet before- getting out of the town.. To do this
with less chance of detection, they returned to-the dun-,
geon, and, taking the clothes off its.present inmates, put,
them on themselves.- Cambea, took poSsession of the
lawyer's thiee-cornered hat, and Diez Of that of the al-•
cayde, and then arranging their cloaks in such a manner
as to conceal the greater part of their faces, they walked ,
out of the principal gate of the prison, carefully shuttaig
it after them, and passed unsuspected through the French;
soldiers on guard. Fortunately, as it - was the hour of
high mass; all the town's-people were in the church, and
the French took no notice of the • two fugitives as the);
walked through the streets with grave and deliberate
pace, studiously avoiding any appearance of haste, lest
it might lead to detection: •
In this manner they had nearly got out of the town;
when they - perceived an orderly dragoon holding two
horses, saddled and bridled, at the "door of a house, ap.•
parently waiting for some, officer ()frank whO was about
to take a ride. The Empecinado had found in a pocket
of his burrowed garments a box, -full of that excessively
pungent snuff,qalled in Spain the enearnado de los frages.
Emptying the contents into his hand, he walked up to
the soldier, and asked to be directed to the quarters of
the General Commanding-. While the man was answer-;
inr him, Diez- threw the snuff in his face and eyes, and,
openinu; his cloaki•gave him a butfot that stretched hire;
stunned and blinded, upon the ground. Then, seizing
his drawn sword; he sprang•tipon •the officer's horse, and
Camhea mounting that of the dragonn, they succeeded
• in passing the toWn gate unchallenged. .
They. had not been clear of' the town five minutes,
when they heard trumpets.sounding.aud drums beating
to arms, and soon the road in their rear was covered
with light cavalry, in hot pursuit. But their horses were
good, the start they had was
.sufficient, and they speedily
reached the mountains. Three days afterwards the.Ein
pecinado had rejoined Mariano Fuentes, and was again
ut the head of his band.