The Sun.
London, England, 1842-02-01 00:00:00

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" Yes, for six more months," answered the giant.
" Well, then, I have a most liberal offer to make you.
Never mind the engagement—break it—a giant like you
can break anything—and I offer you five pounds a week,
with unlimited length and breadth of bed,. and—"
" Stop," cried the giant ; " I believe Mr. Noah, the
gentleman as is now calling on the steps, returned. you
your twopence." _

" I can't deny it—he did," answered Duckweed.
" And yet for all that, you'd come and basely inveigle
away the crack article of the van. Here, Mr. Noah,"
roared the giant, " stand aside r
Bajazet Gag, fearing from the "fine frenzy" of the
giant's eye that he meditated some sudden.act aviolence,
made his escape into the street.
It was well he did so ; for in a second, Duckweed was
flung in a very ball frem the van, and descended upon an
apple-woman's barrow. Never did the giant at once
more triumphantly illustrate the. strength of his arms
and The integrity of his principles.
The apple-woman screamed as Duckweed, descend-
ing, demolished her paper-lantern, and scattered her pip-
pins in the road.

Are you hurt—re you hurt cried Gag to la
man of business.

" The. savage ! My back's broken ! Hadn't we better
call the police ?" said Duckweed.
"I'll call something much better," answered the ma-
nager. He called a cab:

racter," he adds, a is. dvinced by the manner of
shaking hands! First and foremost, there is the
good, honest shake of the hand, that displays a
free and open nature, wishing you well from the
inmost of the heart. Then -there. is the cold,
phlegmatic shake, that tells yOnplainly, I don't
care a straw for you.' Then you have the pre-
tended squeeze, which would make you believe
that you are the dearest of mortals to a selfish
fellow who would not walk across the' street to
save you from being drowned. Next, you have
the vulgar• minded man, who shakes hands with
you in a friendly manner, wishing you to under-
stand, however, that you owe such extreme
kindness to his great condescension only. There
Cespeerencseiodneniese,
are so many modes of' displaying vulgarity in
in the world, that it is not easy to determine
others, perhaps,atphse,
the most offensive." Not so, it is simply the
which
most ridiculous. In remarking on marriage, the
itsho entitled
taokned
author observes, " fortune-hunters, men of low
and second-rate character, make love for money
only, and marry for money ; but no gentleman,
no man of gallant feeling ever sold himself for
Mere cash." We like much the tone of this re-
mark, though it is not in accordance with the
money-crating propensities of the age. " A
Letter from Barney lirallaghan to Oliver Yorke"
is the composition of one who has taken prodi-
gious pains to be dull and tiresome in his almost
unintelligible prose. We must do him the jus-
tice,- however, to say, that in hunmurous verse
he shows to great advantage, and his version of
the song of Brian O'Linn in Greek, Latin, and
Englisli:-is ingenious in no ordinary degree.
"My Life and Times" is a continuation of im-
rod's Autobiography. We subjoin his sketch
,of his,.mother, which conveys a vivid idea ofthe
Peculiarities of the lady of the old school, who is
now seldom to be met . with, except in the come-
dies and novels of the last century:—
Her sense of female propriety was a little too strict for
the advancing spirit of the age, even in its then young
days. Not only would some of her broad hints be con-
sidered as unreasonable, if not uncalled-for checks to
youthful mirth and gaiety, but she would, in her regard
for female propriety,- and, perhaps, for the benefit of her
daughters, occasionally have recourse to somewhat of the
authoritative in her manner. For example, if she saw
flirtation going on between a young couple, at a ball
or elsewhere, pressed, as she considered it to be, a
little too far, one of her " hems (!)" would act like elec-
tricity upon the happy swains,—at least, prove a damper
for the moment. Then, upon another point associated
with female propriety, she firmly resisted what I have
termed the advancing spirit of the age. I allude to
ladies calling their husbands by their Christian names,
a practice only coming into use in my younger days.
" How horrible is it," she would say, "low like any state
but the married state, to hear the woman call the man
whom she is bound to look up and respect, .by the fami-
liar and vulgar appellation of Tom, or Joe!" And she
was fond of enforcing her argument by an anecdote, on
record, of a Duke of Somerset, of days long since gone
by, who was remarkable for his observance of punctilio
in the marriage state, as well as throughout his entire
domestic economy. His second Duchess, on some occa-
sion, in public, familiarly tapped him on the shoulder
with her fan ; when he turned round, and, with a look
of marked displeasure, said, " My first Duchess was a
Percy, and she never took such a liberty."
In her own deportment—l mean in the carriage of
her person—there was a stiffness and formality observ-
able in the lady I speak of, which would attract notice
at the present day, but which, I conclude, was in cha-
racter with those to which lam alluding. I believe, un-
less in illness, she was never seen in what is called a
lounging position in her chair, neither did she ever touch
the back of her carriage with her back,—a striking con-
trast this to the lolling, I was near saying indelicate,
position in which some of our modern ladies present
themselves in their carriages to the admiring spectators
of the present age—on a warm summer-day especially.
.But it was not only to the daughters of her wealthy and
aristocratic neighbours - that my good mother would
occasionally offer her advice, as to the propriety of their
conduct; she would occasionally lecture the poor, who
might apply to her in their distress. One scene of this
description which I witnessed furnishes me with a point
true to our frail nature. A poor married woman was
telling her of some domestic troubles, which she in great
part attributed to the irregularities of her husband.
" Well," said my mother, "you have brought these
troubles on yourself ;• I told you not to marry him. I was
sure he would not make you a good husband." "He is
not a good one, to be sure, Madam," replied the woman ;
" but he is a power better than none."
The " History of a Wet Afternoon" gives the
author, who seems well versed in English litera-
ture, an opportunity of much pertinent poetical
criticism. He overrates, however, Tickell's
Elegy on the Death of Addison, which is a very
common-place, prosaic affair, notwithstanding it
has been honoured with the approbation of
Goldsmith and Johnson. Tickell was a shrewd,
lively man of the world, who could toss off a hu-

mourous poem—as we have seen in his once ce-
lebrated political satire " Anticipation"—as well
as the hest of his contemporaries; but he had
not a spark of genuine poetry in his composition.
He was a passable humourist—nothing more.
" A Day and Night among the Mountains" is a
tale told with feeling and simplicity.

r their political character by the same colours,
and marking those of a neutral character in
black; together with a statement of the num-
ber of stamps issued to each, and the amount
of advertisement-duty paid during the year
ending the Ist of January, 1841. This table is
well printed, and, owing to the variety of colours,
presents .a very beautiful appearance. It will be
found very convenient for reference, as the in-
formation under the different heads may be ascer-
tained at once with the utmost facility. The
new feature in the present edition is the division
of the newspapers into their several counties,
and the total amount of advertisement-duty paid
by the different publications for twelve months.
This information, added to that which at first
characterised this publication, renders this edi-
tion a perfect guide to the Newspaper Press of
the United Kingdom.