The Sun.
London, England, 1842-08-02 00:00:00

THE SUN, LONDON, TUESDAY -MORNING, AUGUST 2, 1842.

! THE MAGAZINES,
WOOD'S MAGAZINE.
The fierce and uncompromising 'Toryism for which
Maga was so long resnarka,le, has of late assumed a very
so
bb eareodu t and
d
ter '' staniing on the ancient ways," &c. ; for it
is now discovered that those " ways" cannot be stood On
with safety, unless they be subjected to considerable re-
pairs. " The Conservative majority," we are now told,
" of the present and of every future Parliament, must
have its root in the principle of Reform, and must par-
take more or less of the nature of the soil from which it
springs." So says the writer of the article on the "Ses-
sion of Parliament," adding in a plaintive mood, " we
cannot annul the Reform Act ; we can at bsst restrain
and regulate it ; but restrain ur regulate it as we may, a
change has come over the spirit of our policy." A
change, indeed, when even Blackwood bears testimony to
the irresistible power of Returns, and Sir Robert I'cel
sanctions the anti-Tory doctrine of Free Trade ! We can
feel for the situation of a Tory of the " good old" Eldon
breed. How completely out of his element he must be
in public lite, when the political prejudices in which he
was reared, and which have furnished him with themes
for his eloquence for nearly half a century, are
treated with sovereign contempt ; and things are
become absolute matters-of -feat, which, in his earlier days,
were the wildest impossibilities ! What humiliation
must such a man experience at finding. himself dragged
a captive at the triumphant chariot-wheels of Reform ;
and forced, by the conjurations of his necromantic Pre-
mier, to vote with Whigs and Radicals—the Devil's
spawn, as he has been for years in the habit of calling
them—in favour of an anti-monopoly tariff ! In speak-
ing cursorily of the Income-tax, the writer confidently
anticipates that it will be 'productive of " blessed fruits."
This will be a great consolation to those who have to
pay it, and we trust will reconcile John Bull to the vex-
atious and inquisitorial nature of the impost. "Why
not Colonise Cabul ? " advocates our taking possession
of this fine kingdom as a convenient country residence for
the citizens of Calcutta. We have no need to murder
the natives, says Mr. Gilbert Young, to whom we are
indebted for the suggestion, " there has been enough of
bloodshed," so We will merely kick them out of house
and home, and coolly and comfortably domiciliate our-
selves in the vacated territory. This idea is not amiss,
but we had better first ascertain how the Affghans may
be disposed towards it. We fear they will not much
relish a summary process of ejection being served ou
them, in order that the Calcutta cockneys may be pro-
vided with country houses, but will be apt to
make the same sort of resistance that the Circas
sians are now making to Russia, who is playing
precisely the same game with those heroic moun-
taineers. " Sketches of Italy " are rough and vigorous
bits of colouring, clashed off hastily. We should be glad
to see the author's descriptive powers occupied with a
more novel and exciting theme. "Human Sacrifices iu
India " is a singular account of a populous native Indian
tribe—sof whom till lately little or nothing has been
known—who are in the constant habit of offering up
human victims to their chief deity, Bard Pannu, or the
Earth God. This tribe, the Khonds, inhabit a tract of
country two hundred miles long, and about one hundred
and seventy broad, and lying between the valley of the
Ganges and that of the Godavery. From the statements
respecting them recently published by Capt. Macpher-
son, of the Madras army, they would seem to be as su-
perstitious and remorseless, though not quite so merce-
nary a set of scamps, as the Thugs. Our readers will,
doubtless, thank us for the following extract :
" The earth," say the Khonds, " was originally a crude and
unstable mass, unfit for cultivation and for the convenient
habitation of man. The Earth God said " Let human blood
be spilt before me !" and a child was sacrificed. The soil be-
came forthwith firm and productive. And the deity ordained
"that man should repeat the rite and live." The disposition
of this god is malevolent; and it is only on condition of de-
precating his malignity by the ceaseless effusion of human
blood, that the Khond enjoys the ordinary bounty of nature.
The rite of human sacrifice is the very foundation of the Khond
superstition, and all must contribute, according to their means,
to its support. It is cothidered essential that every farm should
share the blood of a human victim at seed-time and harvest,
and also on various occasions, according to the promise of the
year, between those seasons. General suffering from disease
or the ravages of wild beasts, and any calamity affecting the
fortunes of the Abbaya, or Patriarch, equally call for public ex-
piations to the Earth God. Private atonements are deemed
necessary when any extraordinary misfortune marks the anger
of the deity towards a particular house, as when a child watch-
ing a fleck perishes by a tiger, the form which is assumed by
the Earth God for purposes of wrath. Tne priest is always
consulted, and generally demands an immediate victim.
The Khonds do not sacrifice victims of their own Feople,
for such offerings are unacceptable ,o the divinity. The victims
or " Merles," are procured by a clasa of inhabitants of the
hill country who are not Khonds ; and these miscreants pur-
chase Cleat upon false pretences, or kidnap them. from the
poorer Hindus in the low country, to the order of the abbayas
or of the priests, or upon speculation; when in difficulty they
sell their own hildren for sacrifice, and for sacrifice under a
religious system which is not their own ! A few Meria3 are
always, if possible, kept in reserve in es cry district, to meet
sudden demands for atonement. Every victim must be bought
by the Khonds with a price, an unbought life being an abomi-
nation to the deity. Victims of either sex are equally accept-
able to the Earth God ; children, whose age precludes a
knowledge of their situation, being for convenience sake pre-
ferred. The Meria is brought blindfolded to the village by the
procurer, and is lodged in the house of the abbaya ; in festers,
if grown up; at perfect liberty, if a child. He is regarded
during life as a consecrated being; and if at large is eagerly
welcomed at every threshold. Sometimes he is suffered to
grow up in ignorance of his situation, and he is presented
with farm-stock and land, and with a wife of one of the castes
upon the mountains, not of Khond race. Should a family
be the result, it is held to be born to the fearful condition of
the sire; and should the deity require atonements not easy to i
be afforded, the father and his children are sacrificed without 1
hesitation.
" Chapters of Turkish History" give a brief narrative
of the career of the famous Barbarossa of Algiers—a
successful Corsair-King, to whom Robertson has alluded
in his " Charles the Fifth." " Sonnets" are by Mr.
Prior, author of the " Life of Burke. The one entitled
" A Remonstrance to Time" contains a sentiment, the
truth and force of which all must feel, who have reached
middle ago. Time does indeed fly swiftly when a man
has once rounded his fortieth year. Up to that period
the flight of the hours is scarcely marked ; sometimes
they even seem to flag ; but after forty they hurry on at
railroad pace, and fly the swifter in exact proportion to
the value we set on them. Hence the frequent disincli-
nation among elderly people to keep birth-days, which,
like mile-stones, remind them of the number of miles
they have travelled along the road of life. " Recollec-
tions of a Ramble through the Basque Provinces" is a
spirited biographical memoir of Martin Zurbano, one
of the most celebrated of the Christine Chiefs in Spain.
" Poeras on Palestine" is a quizzical review of a recently
published Pastoral, entitled " Pan," the scene of which,
strange to say, is laid in the country round Bethlehem !
The author might have located " Pan" in the Regent's-
park with quite as much propriety. Mr. Moir's poem
" The Norman Conscript," is in his happiest manner ;
and of " Caleb Stukely" we may say, that it exhibits no
falling off in point of interest. The " Song on the In-
come-tax" is an amusing poetical squib.

coop, was about half as large again as an English rat, of a
mottled colour, with small red eyes, and would have been a
' very ugly animal had it net been for its tail, which was long,
and bushy in circumference near the centre, almost as large as
the 1 :tie body to which it was attached. For a time the men-
goos ran about without going direct up to the snake, which,
howe.-er, having perceived its tormentor on its first entrance,
had p •eeared to give him battle. Suddenly
the tiny creature,
which s ,erred to be little more than a single mouthful to its
adver ary, saw the snake, and without hesitation ran at. So
apparently unequal a contest I never beheld. The cobra cabella
had reared itself, and spread out its hoed, a sort of fleshy cape
it inflates when irritated, and which has given rise to its desig-
nation. The marks round its eyes resembled a pair of spec-
tacles. Its marble-stained scales seemed all alive, as it raised
itself some three feef high to meet the attack of the little savage,
whose fiery eyes seemed suddenly to glow like red-hot cinders
as it rushed towards its mighty enemy, and bit it. The snake
darted at it, squeezed it, inflicted its dreadful wound, and then
threw itself back. The mungooze was evidently disabled.
Faint and almost dying, it retreated. Many of us fancied the
battle over, and regretted the untimely end of the courageous
little beast. After limping about for some time, and even
lying down with exhaustion, the mungoote began to poke its
nose oa the grass. What it swallowed none have
ever been able to trace, though large rewards have
been offered for the discovery. What the herb is
which this little animal partakes of, none can tell, but certainly
its effects are miraculous ; for, no sooner did the creature im-
bibe the sought-for antidote, than it suddenly recovered its
pristine strength, and again attacked the serpent. This scene
was re-enacted no less than seven times ; each time the cobra
appearing weaker and weaker, till actually tired out. The
mungooze at length succeeded in catching the monster by the
throat, and destroying it, to the surprise and admiration of all
present.
" Adventure of a Blue Jacket " is a true story of a
sailor, of the tough old school, who took a garrisoned
fort near Calcutta, by mistake, when he was drunk,
having swam off from his vessel, scaled the walls at mid-
night by way of a frolic, frightened the Dutch garrison,
who thought that the English had effected a breach, and
set them scampering out at the gates as fast as their
short, squat legs would carry them. The old tar then
composed himself for a nap on the ramparts, and having
slept off his drunkenness, began wondering how he had
got into the fort, what had become of the garrison, and
how it was that ho was absent from his ship, which was
lying in the river hard by. The rest of the story shall
be told in the writer's own words :
Jim rubbed his eyes. He pinched his legs, and 'walking up
to a tank, actually drank three mouthfuls of water before he
could believe that he was awake. He then strutted up to the
ramparts ; and convinced himself he was in his proper senses,
for there lay the two frigates, and there floated the union-jack,
for which he bad often risked his life. 4, Shiver my timbers !
with that he twitched up
pigtail—which then hung d
The vessels, perceiving a man thus expose himself, began to
fire at him.

" Avast there !" shouted Jim ; but, as they did not hear
him, or attend to him, he ran to the principal battery, and,
climbing up the flag staff, pulled down the Dutch colours, and
hoisted up a ragged old turban, he found lying in one of the
streets. The commanders of the vessel thought this extremely
odd. Something strange had evidently happened ; so they
sent a boat on shore, bearing a flag of truce, carried by the
First Lieutenant of one of the frigates. Unmolested the party
marched up to the fort ; and, as the gates were open, un..
molested t; ey marched into it. Not a soul did they meet till
Jim strutted up to them.
" Holloa, you sir, what's the meaning of this ?" said the
First Lieutenant to Bunting, in a voice of anger ; for it was
sadly infra dig. for an officer of his rank to have been thus sent
off to parley with a common sailor. " What's the meaning of
this ?"

" Please your honour, I hope you won't be angry, Leeftenant,
but, somehow or other, I've taken this place. The enemy have
cut the painter, and sheered off."
" What 1" cried the superior, " You tool• the fort !"
J m nonded.
" And pray who the devil gave you leave to do so, I should
like to know Z Get on board, Sir, directly."
" Ay, ay, Sir," relied Jim respectfully, instantly doing as
be was desired.

In the meantime the Lieutenant went, and formally took pos-
cession of the place by running up the British colours; then
writing a most pompous despatch, in which-he recommended
the real captor to be tried for leaving his ship without per-
mission, he sent it back by a young midshipman, remaining be-
hind himself, with half-a-dozen sailors, in order as he expressed
it, to garrison the fort. . .

Strange to say, his recommendation was attended to, and
Jim Bunting brought to a court-martial, who most reluctantly
were compelled to find him guilty, adjudging him, however, tu,
undergo the least possible punishment that could be inflicted
for so glaring a breach of discipline. Jim felt highly indig-
nant at the turn things had taken. He could not help thinking
limself an ill-used man ; but he bore it stoically. When,
however, ho heard the verdict delivered ; when he heard him-
self pronounced guilty, he once more hitched up his nether
garments, and exclaimed in an audible voice as he left the
cabin, " Damn my eyes if ever I take another fort as long as
I live." _ _ _

_
Richard Savage " exhibits, as usual, some spirited
incidents. The " Philosophy of Oratory " is poor, com-
mon-place stuff, in which humour is constantly aimed at,
and as constantly missed. The illustrations, however,
are excellent, and tend in a great degree to redeem the
deficiencies of the letter-press. We close with an ex-
pression of thanks to Thomas Ingoldsby for his quaint,
comical legend of " Netley Abbey."

brions ; his Speech ie [prophetic ; and hie Touch is mortal.
Nevertheless he hath one Merit, and in this our World, and in
these our Times, it is a main one; namely, that nhatever he
Undertakes he Performs.