The Sun.
London, England, 1842-02-18 00:00:00

SALARY TO THE CHAIRMAN.

Mr. Sergeant Adams having left the Chair,
Mr. Powilau, moved for the appointment of a Committee
to represent to the Home Secretary the necessity or appointing
a salary to the Chairman of the Middlesex Sessions, which,
with o ne dissentient voice, was agreed to, and a Committee
appointed.—The Court then adjourned.

LITERATURE. affot
DIARY AND LETTERS OF MAD.AMPR
FrancesD ' A R B LA
BurneyY.
(afterwardsl.. Coiburi‘nfadaL
ionn
ed0pn,;,,A5184b2,‘609
was the second daughter of Dr. Burney, author 0t.,1*
well-known history of music, and was born in 1407
folk, in the year 1752. He . • cation was in 43,1..n_...
degree neglected, but as she waz, a girl of conside„3.
able capacity, possessing, in particular,
culty of observation, she supplied the want of reg,
and aptitude
lar instructors by her own assiduity
for learning. In 1778, when she was in her twenty:
sixth year, she brought out her first novel, entitled:
popularityi
" Evelina," which met with uncommon
and introduced her to the acquaintance of Dr. JOITiI
a quick tii;
son, Burke, Sheridan, the Thrales, and, indeed' di'
the distinguished characters of the day. After war
in succession, appeared her " Cecilia," "effraijht%!
and " The Wanderer," the last of which (published ah
the time of her marriage with a French emigra*
fell still-born from the Press; and from that 1)1:14.
to,the day of her death, which took place't''n' _e,
" three years since, she produced nothing, we hclisch
with the exception of some " Reminiscences, w',ehe
were by no means remarkable for their saeess• tis
present volume, which contains Madame V.Arbla.3.s.
Mary, commencing with the year of the
tion of " Evelina," gives us familiar shetewho
of many of the most eminent . personages literal'
were then celebrated in the world of .e
ture and fashion ; but notwithstanding this, 1,,'
must confess that it has woefully disappointed. re
Indeed, we know not when we have met wlbt ve
work from which we expected so much, and `'dl4.•
derived so little amusement. The cause of this 4„te-
appointment is obvious. The writer everys".ns
::acrifices effect and interest to her own devenn 1 t
self-conceit and egotism. If Dr. Johnson is bite',
on the tapis, it is only to sing the praises of 411:t is
lina." If Sheridan is introduced to our notice, that
only to assure Madame d'Arblay that the geninsijent
pflhhheei
could produce " Evelina," could write an exec they
comedy. Murphy, the Thrales, and dozens of e` for
distinguished individuals, are brought forward t,..,
the same reason ; and each is made to vie with I'dJ
other in his eulogiums on " Evelina." For ill'sverwe
of two hundred pages of a closely-printed octave, 0
absolutely hear of little or nothing but "Evelpin:et
till we sicken at the very mention of the name! "'pie;
Cumberland is sneered at as envious and uncharitaAit
for.no other reason, that we can perceive, thalAsi
lie does not choose to consider " Evelina" a Pr'oe
of genius ; and Dr. Johnson and Mrs. Thrale tee
held up as patterns of excellence, for precisemo
opposite cause. Judging from Madame D'Ardoe.
, Diary—and she evidently wishes to create this joi
1 pression—one would imagine that all England ``Fete,
electrified with her astounding novel, and „,0
talksd, and dreamed of nothing else. Then her ye„3!
agonies on the occasion of her being made a Liens"iie
Nothing can be more ridiculous or egotiatical• ,oti
is iii the horrors, whenever she hears the '''neo
" Evelina", mentioned. If a gentleman or lady nisi
to smile or talk in whispers in a party where she Are
chance to he, she is perfectly convinced that thinile
talking of her and " Evelina.' She entreats MTS.I oi
not to expose her. She implores Dr. Johnson to glis',/
her "little secret." She blushes at every.allusion,t°oo
of the characters in her tale, and expresses a newt
hope that 4, Mr. Sheridan had never deigned t°o3lo
at my trash !" Trash indeed ! Why, 31a oel
d'Arblay must have thought "Evelina" the first , Dors
ever proanced, for she is not ashamed to repeat tier
than once 1.;.r. Johnson's opinion that it was stlEoti
to any of Fielding's master-pieces I We have n.„(11)0
sought to glean any characteristic recollection° "tolf
sage of Bolt-court.q Though the. Diarist is cons e espo
telling us of: his wit and wisdom, yet she atichl,„ ber
proofs of either • and all that we can gather frow 0
frequent introductions of him is, that . heed
among the most kindly-hearted, as he was 110
fore'
the greatest of men ; but: this we knew long "-flop'
In like manner Sheridan, Sir Joshua Reynolds, ''.3d
1 nah More, ' Seward, Dr. Franklin, Murphitderr
others say or do nothing worth a moment's Onsiii)ze
tion; but are all compelled, as it were, to:revolve, lot
many petty twinkling satellites round one great hi'll so
lunimary—Madame d'Arblay ! If the retnnittNingrabl
limes of this Diary exhibit the same ins"e foi
h
egotism and simpering self-complacency t•-eate.
stamped on the present, it will be no hazard°,,orei
diction to wsert that the work will be an entire Idol
for who can possibly take interest in the self-10v,
of a by-gone, novelist,ll whose name is not „toe'
to one in a thousand of the presentheb, eft
ration ? When " Eveliro.." ' appeared, 1,-leldi:oi
of prose fiction was, at its to west ebh• , seli 0
and Smollett had been dead for years ; the, n,„e‘ns, its
had not yet risen. Under such circurns".'4'—efell";,,
not to be wondered at that a smart, dashing% -t;fiCo
story, full of spirit, and equally abounding ln,,„eisg
ture, should have excited public attention, esrd Or
when a report was industriously spread ahr,°3othe;
not denied by those who knew better) that !,1e othi"
ress was a mere girl, who had seen absolotarsjslll lilt
,ofr ilifier.t y 3Hrea4s"eEarvleileirlitaha'naiptpdeiadr,etdhotuhairthfitJ
,soii...tldo 6;yl
ehxatviemobredienwp7rudleagrr,eiet
;would not have been sn't tin the
very nick of time, when there was no eminent' fin it lsf
but it was produced PS" , velist
tdore the world. The 'utmost we can, say Or: .3 it
that,.. like the rest of Madame D'A.rblay's A.,c,,,3atlre;
exhibits considerable powers of comic portrwrii
that it hits. off the oddities of cockney life with nisi,/
acuteness arid spirit ; and is deficient only in -e ~,,i,
ontiment, of which the authoress•had OA an at
VERSES BY A POOR MAN:j4;,.,,. I
Painter, London,. 1842. '''',autigit °,;
It was an act of supererogation for thqiiitnyli';
these . poems -to style himself " A Poor ,N0_,.,,0r.„
.1'
may fairly be presumed that all poets. are.,P7otlesi
seems to be one .if the necessities of their .._,,,,v ot
• 'that they should belenderly
.end Owed in'reiesee'
pocket, as a lawyer usually is in peint Of co!-.,'11 t)
From the days of "blind old Mmonides," (!(i;:`,;:pe,'
those of Burns and Chatterton, the tuneful trT4e fo'
been, with but a very few exceptions, reinarlifsLor
nothing so much as their utterwant of—what 11' beet
son calls—" an elegant sufficiency." you seldoper
of a poet giving a cheque on his banker ; still se, ,'
' of his drawing a handsome dividend on settliory:de
from the Three per Cents. As a matter of c°,,„ ol'e
is eXpected to be poor, and if he be otherw7;esee'
feels. tempted to resent his wealth as an imPerthe sic
It was superfluous, therefore, we repeat, for . rho''
thor of this volume to style himself a poor man i &ilk'. '
we cannot commend too highly his modeaty qv,'
his rhymed productions as Verses" instead of ' to 0;
They are verses, and nothing more—that i°;.,ho(lej
they are unimpeachable in point of scansionl.°Vor 0,
as regards rhyme, and deficient only in that fol.abeti,(
feeling which are so necessary to constitute ir,j'ect r
We quote a curious poem on the inspiring sn
"mashed potatoes ;" ,
" Potatoes mashed are an excellent thing, ,
. And fit for the table of even a king ; ,,g00"
When the poor mart returns from his.dail),ric;
He hears not the.sound of the rich man's el,„"1501'
He smells not the smell of the rich man's v.'..
But mashed potatoes, and asks a benison ~:,
Potatoes and salt, and peace and rest, ..
Are.the poor man's lot—and he is blest ;
But if this book should happen to sell, ',,,
I will then have a piece of bacon as well. ' 'Off'
14 efik
The naivete of the last couplet is exceeding rbe
ing. We hope that the author's wishes ina,Y,.oo,efot
ized—though we are by no means sangin% es:,4
point ; and that his volume may sell to such apiece
as to enable him to purchase, not only '' s '
bacon," but the whole hog. AP
HENRY DE POMEROY-3 Vols. )6ei 12
,-,
this t , . London, 1842. e
• ss',
Mrs. Bray, to whom we are indebted ler. •,.i•e et-, et
is' one of the most prolific novelists of the dai ',elteliTer,
not add, one of the most successful, for the frel:iog'et" et
her stories is generally somewhat loosely It; est°,llcll
and
"0 rawr athie: teterre,
sheilsvh\avi erhiwt eadsn.i diffuses
uPos efesrhvanaigposau,irr" oliflnel anhnie•ygr'cl:lttleelltrielrfserill;ll;
taken as a whole, without reference to part forth' , to
sages, is about the best tale she has yet poi' .o°feoe,,,ii
iilsavaelebegeenndsuoggf
eestoerdnwball and Devon, and Inaath.tie
paid in the summer of 1838 It'ios. itthevvrriuliienlis terlife, tirfigsieodh
of Berry Pomeroy—a fine relic of the Errs `rat,'
situated near Totness in Devonshire,,i, I cell 'is 01
treated of, is the latter part of the twe.":i; hit,t-illir,,
when Richard the First was a captive, in i. ' jar of
his enemies, and his treacherous Ant:* throPf the
brother John was intriguing for We sea tu 01
England. Among those who were orPnsir kle Di
lawful rights of the lion-hearted King, wz.nie whucret
de Pomeroy, the hero of the floral ;no sea of
way of assisting John's intrigues, entere d he'l -e'
consultations with Baldwin,
Tavistock Abbey—a sworn foe to Rich°. fs' ooint, he
the mitred in conblo,
quence of that monarch having refused to,s_ri,,hico4l.o
to the Archbishopric of Canterbury, 'Tv, the,,,Poo
imagined he had the strongest claitos.iset-ween tb;ot,
volume we have a spirited conference bet" the .•,.4',..ite
two malcontents, in the course of widc,!` t. to tiw e to
by way of binding De Pomeroy still closeindoene,.ol
terests of his faction, offers to exert 11!5,,i, bean': of
obtain for the young man the hand of
stiloo, sin&,,li.d.
Adele, an heiress of considerable posses. y, accv 00
ancient Norman lineage. Do l'nine,„!°ladY' 03
ingly, is introduced to the younto_ession, ,rO,O
whom he makes a favourable inTrroodse
ei fore
eventually succeeds in gaining 3. P but before
her that she will become his wifVd, it i ne
s3'
the marriage ceremony can be completed' tot tb Di 3
till till
rupted by a stranger, who makes konother
tonished bridegroom that Adele, is n
never Verde,
own sister of whose existence he had
ver_ is tn.),. iiv
then. The scene in which this disco,
,sYwroagl_l;di.
the most spirited in the narrative, and Brays Bray's_uf the
in all its details with far more thaninlterrnPtie"hurse
nary skill. Immediately after the , awe, on 1 the
back to St. Michael's Mount, but
on the I've
marriage ceremony, Adele, is conve stn
passage ; and months subsequently,
3';seudraownen,,Ll
of