The Sun.
London, England, 1842-11-17 00:00:00

LIT ERA TITRE.

RECREATIONS OF CHRISTOPHER NORTH.
Vol. 3.—Bochwxyd, Edinburgh and London, 1842.
The " Recreations of Christopher North" are
here brought to a close, and not a single
" Noctes"—not so much even as an extract from
the " Noctes"—bas been included among them.
Now, " this is really too bad," as Lord Liver-
pool observed, when the Marquis of London-
derry petitioned him for a supplemental pension.
The " Noctes" are among the most brilliant pro-
ductions of Christopher's Protean intellect, and
to omit them from his "Recreations," is not un-
like playing Hamlet with the principal character
omitted. But perhaps it is intended to re-publish
them in a separate volume; we hope this may
be the case, and are convinced that the pub-
lishers will find their account in the speculation,
for never were a series of Papers more generally
admired for their wit—humour—fancy—feeling—
and eloquence—than the " Noctes;" and these
are qualities which, when of a sterling character,
are always sure to retain their popularity unim-
paired by time or the caprices of public taste.
On glancing over the present volume, we find
that all our old favourites—such, for instance, as
the review of Dr. Kitchener's " Traveller's
Oracle"—" Christopher in his Aviary"—" Our
W inter Quarters"—" Stroll to Grassmere," &c.
—are just as fresh as on the day when we first
read them, and when they had all the gloss of
novelty upon them. Not an image has faded—
not a thought has become a common-place—not
a sun-burst of wit dim or discoloured. The
articles are every one of them evergreens, and
the reason why they thus retain their freshness
and vivacity, is because there is no affectation in
them—no mere show-off in point of style or
sentiment. A manly strain of sincerity pervades
them all, from title-page to colophon. They are
sincere and unaffected alike in their humour and
their fancy ; in their sarcasm and their sensi-
bility; in their philosophical abstractions and
their practical worldly wisdom; above all, they
are instinct with the healthiest and most enlarged
spirit of humanity; and we feel in every page,
that lie who penned them has a heart in his
bosom beating with all the emphasis of a sledge-
hammer.

FORGET-ME-NOT.
Ackermann, London, 1842.
The Forget-Me-Not for this year contains a
choicer variety than usual of embellishments,
executed with great skill and taste, and evidently
at no slight cost. The frontispiece is particularly
beautiful. It is called "the Indian Necklace,"
and is a half-length fancy portrait of a young and
lovely female, round whose arched, swanlike
neck is hung an Indian necklace, whose
polished jet contrasts effectively with the
snowy whiteness of the maiden's skin. Her
countenance, which is oval the finest
of all contours—beams with the sweetest and
blandest expression, and she is busied with a
train of reflection of the most agreeable cha-
racter—at least if we may judge front the smile
that nestles in the angles of her small mouth.
The engraving of this plate is finished off with
the utmost nicety; the shading of the eye-
brows, in particular, evinces a rare delicacy
of handling, and nothing can be more ef-
fective than the management of the clustering,
auburn ringlets, which have all the glossy smooth-
ness of the richest silk. " Florence Howard" is
another half-length portrait of a pretty, dark-
eyed girl; but, as a work of art, it is somewhat
coarse of execution, and the lines are harsh and
wiry, which is especially the case with the tan-
gled mass of black hair that hangs thickly about
the neck. In the illustration headed Jane
Vavasor's Visit," there is a fine sketch of an old
English baronial hall, with its broad, paved
court-yard, its sparkling fountains, and
umbrageous avenues of stately oaks and
elms, forming a cool shelter even from the
fiercest summer sun, or when the dog-star Sirius
is raging in the ascendant. The gay hawking-
party in the foreground, is happily introduced,
so as to break the somewhat monotonous
still-life of the scene. Of the literary con-
tents, all we can say is, that the prose and
verse are neither better nor worse than
usual, with the sole exception of a poem entitled
"The Wanderer," which contains some impres-
sive thoughts, and as a piece of versification de-
serves praise for its grace and melody.

HECTOR O'HALLORAN. Part 7.
Bentley, London, 1842.
Mr. Lever has a powerful rival in the author
of " Hector O'Halloran," which is a tale fully
equal in humour, vigour, force of description,
and general breadth of effect, to " Charles
O'Malley" and "Harry Lorrequer." Indeed, we
know not when we have read a more spirited
tale : as yet—for we have only reached the
seventh ?art—it has not once flagged ;
but incident after incident, chapter after
chapter, trundle on with a brisk vivacity
that knows neither pause nor abate►vent. A
better story for mess-room reading has not
appeared for years; none but a dashing soldier
who has led an adventurous career, and main-
tained, throughout all vicissitudes, his buoyant
animal spirits, could possibly have written it.
The scene in the Part before us, where an at-
tempt is made on the life of the hero by hired
assassins at midnight, in one of the most unfre-
quented by e-places of the City:may compete with
any of the most striking descriptions in " Oliver
Twist." "Hector O'Halloran" is decidedly Mr.
Maxwell's master-piece, and cannot fail to be-
come a general favourite.