The Sun.
London, England, 1842-10-01 00:00:00

COURT CIRCULAR.

MAGAZINE DAY.
BLACKWOOD' S MAGAZINE.
The concluding volume of Mr. Alison's " Eu-
ropean History" forms the subject of an eloquent
but prejudiced notice in the present Number of
this Magazine. The Reviewer is, of course, an
ardent panegyrist of the historian, for the poli-
tics of the one are, with scarcely a shade of dif-
ference, the politics of the other; and observes

of his work, that it is one of the " noblest" pro-
ductions of the age. The work is certainly an
able one--that is to say, it shows great variety of
research: great skill and patience in comparing

and sifting— evidence ; and great impartiality,
considering that the author is a zealous Tory,
and that the exciting period of which he treats,
is one calculated to call forth all political pre-
judices ; but while we allow that Mr. Alison's
history possesses these u questionable recom-
mendations, we must observe, on the other hand,
that its sketches of character are often erroneous,

and still oftener superficial ; that it lays down
hasty premises, and drawsfrom them still hastier
c:mclusions ; that its descriptions—especially of
battles, in which the author evidently delights—
though frequently picturesque and spirited, are
deformed by tawdry and inflated verbiage; and
that its style abounds in Scotticisms, and is too
thickly studded with trope and simile to suit the
grave, sober dignity of the historic muse. Still,
even with these drawbacks, it is by far the best
English history we have of Europe during the
gigantic wars of the Revolution, and if judiciously
abridged, would be invaluable as a work of re-
ference. Alluding to the grand and comprelien-
.

sive subject of whiCit Mr. Alison treats, the Re-
viewer says, " The French Revolution has
wholly passed away. We have seen its cradle,
its maturity, and its grave." This may be true,
as regards the great outbreak itself ; but the
bold democratic spirit which prompted that out-
.__

break, still walks the earth. tVe can trace its in-
fluence in every. recent popular movement in
France ; while hi England, it makes itself felt
and feared as Chartism, which is the alias by
which it is now best known among us. The de-
mocratic spirit, quickened by the French Revo-
lution, has yet a mighty task to achieve ere it
can be said to have fulfilled the mission on which

it was sent by destiny. Speaking cursorily of
modern historians, the Reviewer, after paying a
generous and deserved tribute to the transcendant
merits of Gibbon, remarks of his celebrated

contemporary, Robertson, that he "has sincerity,
knowledge, and a serious, yet forcible eloquence."
This is very vague, general criticism, and like a
general invitation, it means nothing. Robert-
son's chief excellence is the clear and distinct

views he exhibits of periods and events .which
the. nattire of his sUbject.will not alioW him to do
more than. just ,brietiy, glance at, as in „his intro-
duction to " Charles the,,Fifth," where.. he- gives
a brief, butadmirably digested and lucid summary
of the rise and progress of the feudal system ; and
his chief defect is. the heavy, languid monotony of
his manner, and the- cumbrous and artificial
construction of his :Sentences. With tire Re-
viewer's opinions of Hallam we cordially agree ;
but not so with his remark, that " the later

writers of history in England have scarcely risen
beyond the rank of compilers." Surely Sharon
Turner, the laborious, exact, scrupulous chro-
nicler of the Anglo Saxon ages; Ling,ard, the
more than Ml of Hume—his superior iu all
the qualities, save style, that constitute the
historian; Thirlwall, whose history of Greece is
beyond all question the best that has yet ap-
peared, Mitford's being a mere school-boy's
essay compared with it;—surely, these writers
are something better than mere compilers! The
Reviewer, we suspect, is wholly unacquainted
with their works, or be would not have hazarded

sr) flippant an observation. His character of
Carnot is still more to be objected to; but dais,

not from its flippancy, but its fierce Prejudices
He condemns the sturdy Republican, because
he was a member of Robespierre's Government,
forgetting—or, what is more probable, not caring
to remember—that Carnot had nothing at all to
do with the cruelties then practised, but uni-
formly kept aloof from his Terrorist colleagues,
and confined himself exclusively to the war
department, and the creating and provisioning
of fourteen vast armies, whic he precipitated
on the frontiers, and by so doing saved France,
when almost every one but himself despaired of
her salvation ! " We believe," adds the Reviewer,
" that Carnot was one of those who voted for
the death of Louis the Sixteenth." He might
have been positive of the fact with perfect safety,
for the great Republican's vote was given in
these memorable words, which the Reviewer
ought not to have forgotten—" Death, and never
was a decision come to with such reluctance !"
" Poems and Ballads of Schiller" are translated
with singular spirit and elegance, by one
whose powers of versification are of no ordinary
character. " Ricardo and Adam Smith" is a
clever essay, but by no meana so interesting or
imaginative as a fairy-tale. We have read
it with about the same pleasure that we
should read Cocker's Arithmetic, whose plot,
characters, and incidents, &c., so puzzled
poor James Hogg, that he pronounce) it to
be the most bewildering love-story that had ever
been recommended to his perusal. " Sketches
of Italy" are somewhat dull and common place;
hut the subject is scarcely susceptible of novel
treatment. "Caleb Stokely" gives the bio-
graphical sketch of a young gentlewoman, M 153
Emma Fitzjones, whose ini4ortune it was to be
descended from a race of drunkards ; and who
took special care that the family failing should
not be extinguished in her person. Accordingly
she indulged in strong waters till her nose
blushed like a mulberry, and resembled " the
tower of Lebanon that looketh toward Damas-
cus." Her reminiscences are exciting and pala-
table enough, for the flavour of brandy and water
impregnates every line. " The League's Re-
venge" is a political diatribe, full of misstate-
ments. From the review of " Alison's Europe,"
we quote a graphic sketch. of the waning glories
of Napoleon in the memorable year, 1813:
The spell was now consciously broken. The star
whose influence had hitherto grown into a kind of
gallant and illustrious credulity, a brilliant supersti-
tion of soldiership, was now swept from the sky.
Even the name of Napoleon was no longer the sound
of a trumpet ; and the Man of France had suddenly
sunk down from that exaltation which, whether fic-
titieus or true, makes men soldiers, and makes sol-
diers heroes ; into the level of which all things must
become common-place, and small and personal inter-
ests supersede the splendid illusions of our general
being. The heart of imperial France was broken,
aad she was thenceforth to be prepared to meet her
share in the common burdens and contempts that be-
long to the sufferers and strugglers among mankind.
Posterity will not believe things; and in a hundred
or a thousand years hence, the philosopher, turning
over the eloquent pages of this history, will attribute
a large portion of their fervid imagery to the ardour
of a contemporaneous mind—the overwrought pres-
sure of the time. But the philosopher will be wrong,
and the historian right; the only defect in the de-
scriber will be the native weakness of human expres- I
sion to speak of impulses and causes beyond the re-
sources of language. No speech of man can realise
the actual sensation with which the power of France
was really regarded in its days of power. No con-
ception of atter times can approach the mixture of
fear, astonishment, and anxiety, the solemn won-
der, and even the mysterious and fearful admiration,
with which Europe looked on the throne of Napo-
leon. Yet, what must be the effect on the general
human mind, of living in the perpetual presence of a
sovereign which had concentrated all the powers of
the vast French empire on conquest—which had
turned every monarch into a vassal; whose armies
were poured out by the hundred thousand—whose
march was from capital to capital, and whose tri-
umphs had the extent, rapidity, and completeness of
something beyond man ! Even the language of the
time felt the impression of these extraordinary events,
and the phrases of " Invincible," "Son of Destiny,"
" Irresistible," " King-maker," though given in other
days in the sycophancy of courtiers or the terror of
slaves, were given to the head of this fearful empire
and army, almost by a natural use of words. The
impression is wearing away now even among our-
selves, but it was not the less vivid while it existed.
In the conquering days of Napoleon there was but
one name in the world, and that name was his own.
His- guilt, his personal vices, his perfidy, and his
reckless love of blood, were as fully acknowledged
then as at this moment, when we are recounting the
causes which brought him to his grave ; but success,
genius, grandeur of plan, and triumph of execution,
had given him an elevation in the eye of Europe to
which no man, for a thousand years before him, had
been raised, and to France a power, not merely over
the frame of nations, but the mind, which almost
divested submission of its disgrace, and to which the
simple-resistance' as it was resisted for many a passive
and painful year by England, with a title to glory.

WINDSOR, FRIDAY.—Her Majesty, accompanied
by her Royal Highness the Princess Royal, and
attended by the Countess of Mount Edgecumbe (Lady
in Waiting), and the Dowager Lady Lyttelton, rode
out this afternoon in a pony carriage and four, fol-
lowed by the Hon. Miss Stanley and the Hon. Miss
Hamilton, Maids of Honour in Waiting, in another
pony carriage ; his Royal Highness Prince Albert
riding on horseback, attended by- the Equerries in
Waiting-, Colonel Bouverie and General Weityss.
Sir Henry Wheatley took his departure from the
Castle this morning.
Her Royal Highness the Duchess of Kent, attended
by Lady Charlotte Dundas, will join the Royal
Circle at the Castle at dinner this evening.
The band of the 15th Regiment will perform
during dinner, and her Majesty's private band will
be in attendance in the Castle during the evening.

Her Majesty the Queen Dowager, attended by
Frances Lady Clinton, left her residence, Bushy-
house, Bushy-park, yesterday morning, for Kew, to
visit her Royal Highness the Duchess of Cambridge.
Soon after her arrival at Kew, a dejeune was served,
of which her Majesty the Queen Dowager, their
Royal Highnesses the Duchess of Cambridge and the
Princesses Augusta and Mary of Cambridge, and his
Serene Highness the Hereditary Prince of Mecklen-
burg Strelitz, partook.
The Queen Dowager, attended by Frances Lady
Clinton, took her departure from Kew in the after-
noon for town, and arrived at her residence, Marlbo-
rough-house, shortly before five o'elock.
His Serene Highness the Hereditary Prince of
Mecklenburg Strelitz visited the British Museum on
Thursday, and inspected the various collections. In
the evening his Serene Highness attended the per-
formance at Covent-garden Theatre.
Mr. Matthew Forster, M.P., had an interview with
the Earl of Aberdeen yesterday, at the Foreign-office.
Mr. John Gregory kad an interview with Lord
Stanley yesterday, at the Colonial-office.
Lord Wharncliffe, Lord President of the Ccuncil,
and Lady Wharriclitre, left their residence in Curzon-
street yesterday morning, for Wortley Hall, Yorkshire.
Count Kielmansegge, the Hanoverian Minister,
transacted business yesterday at the Foreign-office,
Dispatches were sent off last evening from the
Colonial-office for the Governor of Ceylon, and also
for the Governor of the Falkland Islands.

ERRONEOUS OPINIONS TOUCHING THE SUDDEN
DEATHS OF CHILDREN.-At an inquest held on Thurs-
day by Mr. Wakley, M.P., on the body of a child
that had died suddenly, he made the following obser-
vations to the jury :—lt was extremely erroneous to
suppose that children who were found dead had been
overlaid, or otherwise suffocated by their mothers.
Nature had so well provided for the preservation of
the most helpless of her offspring, that a child over-
laid or placed in bed in a suffocating position would,
for self-preservation sake struggle, and scream so
violently as in most cases to wake not only the
mother or nurse, but the other inmates of the house.
The generality of cases like the present were instances
of sudden death, and not of any sort of suffocation.
The pale hue of the skin showed that it had
not been suffocated ; but that was not by any
means an infallible test, for lately he had
held an inquest on two lads of the same age.
who died from the same• cause—viz., imbibing
foul air whilst asleep on the top of a lime-kiln. The
skin of one of them was as white as the paper before
him, a proof of natural death ; the skin of the other
was of a deep vermillion colour, and the features were
bloated, proofs of death from suffocation. He would
also observe, that in the cases of the sudden deaths of
illegitimate children, whose mothers received no sums
for maintenance from the fathers (and it was so in the
present instance), jurors were too prone to entertain
suspicions that the mothers had acted unnaturally.
Such suspicions ought not to be entertained, unless
cruelty and ill-treatment were proved, for it every
day happened that children, those of the rich and most
affluent, were found dead in their cradles, whilst asleep
on mattresses, where they could not possibly be over-
laid or suffocated, and in the midst of play the infant
heirs to large possessions had the hand of death sup-
denly placed upon them. It was wrong to suppose,
that because poor frail woman often became the vic-
tim of seduction, the sin she thereby committed stifled
in her bosom the natural love of offspring all the fe-
male creation happily possess. It did not do so, and
it vas very doubtful whether illegitimate or legitimate
children were the most beloved of their mothers.
SUDDEN DEATH IN THE STREETS.-Mr. Wakley
hweoldrkahnouinser
oensttohne
body Thu of John Tate, aged 35. Itrsday at the St. Marylebone
appeared that the deceased, who was a broker's assist-
-ant, lived in Circus-street, New-road. On Monday
afternoon last he left home on business, previous to
which he, as was rather unusual, kissed his wife and
child affectionately, bidding them each " good bye."
He then seemed in perfect health, and had the same
day said that he never felt better in his life. Shortly
afterwards he was proceeding along the north side of
Bryanstone-
square, when, on arriving opposite No.
24, he was observed suddenly to stagger and fall on
the steps. Assistance being immediately rendered he
was carried to a surgeon s, where life being pro
nounced extinct, he was removed to the above insti-
tution. The Jury having remarked upon the many
instances of sudden death which had of late occurred,
returned a verdict of " Natural death."

BENTLEY'S MISCELLANY.
There are several entertaining tales and sketches
in this month's " Miscellany ;" and foremost
among them is an ingenious story entitled
" Hunting John Dory," which describes the dis-
appointments endured by an epicure in his hunt
after this daintiest of sea-fish. He had seen it
lying full-length on the slab of a fishmonger's
shop, and on making. inquiries as to its destina-
tion, fbund that it was just going to be despatched
to the house of one of his most intimate friends.
Off he goes there without an instant's loss of
time, hoping to receive an invitation to dinner ;
but in course of conversation he learns that his
friend intends to dispatch the dainty, by way of
present, to a neighbour. The epicure's next

visit is to that envied neighbour; but here again denouement, however, is somewhat tio.!
he is disappointed ; at last, after tracking the melo-dramatic in its character. From
drollt'`u
John Dory from house to house, with the despe- " Five Incumbents" we quote a brief,
rite pertinacity of a bloodhound, lie achieves the : sketch of a mischievous sehoolshoy. ‘i As a
great object of his ambition, and makes a hearty boy," observes the you scamp, ~ I was fond:,
dinner off the fish, which by some means or other science, and investigated the powers and Pr°l'., .! '
has found its way into the kitchen of Sir Robert ties of a squirt; but being soon tired of soilirtlln. .:
Walpole. These incidents, it will be seen, bur- lat insects, I made up my mind to have a shot_ -_,
der closely on the extravagant, but they are ! a man or a woman—l did not care which.
i 'vl.-,'
skilfully wrought up ; and here and there occurs 1 garden pales ran parallel with the high road. irt
a touch of genuine humour. " Mr. Ledbury's i hid myself behind them, and loaded my Web.- • -
Grand Tour" recounts the adventures of an un- 1 with dirty ditch-water. I heard a step aPPw'l.nd
sophisticated cockney who journeys to Paris, in ing, caught a glimpse of a well-dressed man,: s
company with a sprightly, rakish adventurer— let- fly ! I felt I had succeeded, for I heard
one Jack Johnson, who leads' him into all sorts hearty and well-developed oath. In a few sec°,.ed
of scrapes. This amusing scamp's character is the f'ace and neckcloth of a gentleman apPe,9l„l, , •
hit off with
...was then sure I bad D_A . .
diverting by-sketch of a pretty French grisette, successful, for both were covered with duek-we: .
who, desiroi;s of being thought to speak our lan- and green slime. He wielded a bamboo at 111_.,,
gunge with fluency, says, " I spik Angleesh— and threatened to break every bone in mY skin' 0
rosbif—Got-dam—pot-portare," which she thinks In an amusing essay, entitled "Horse and Foot,
is an unanswerable proof of her perfect acquaint- Mr. Hood thus alludes to his own deficiencies ..7
ante with the English tongue. "My First Client, an equestrian :
the Bishop," is a story of two clever Irish rogues, The chase of course excites my admiration scini
~
cii .i.:
tle.
one of whom passes himself off as a Bishop wonder, and, like Lord Chesterfield, I unfeigne
to a simple and inexperienced young London at- marvel—but for a different reason—that any gen of -:
torney. This hoax is improbable enough, but still man ever goes to it a second time. A chapter. ' 1 g','
more improbable is it that a London attorney Nimrod's invariably gives me a crick in the nett but
should possess either simplicity or innocence. We can well believe that "it is the pace that kills,
T__,de.
should just.as soon think of suspecting Satan of why rational beings with that conviction should ' ii. ..
Methodism. All attorneys—whether young or to be killed, exceeds my comprehension. For myoo, it
old, rich or poor, metropolitan or provincial— part, could such a pace ever come into fashi°l,',a,:'
are necessarily as keen as Sheffield razors; and would be suicidal in me to attempt to hunt at a -or ~
even the dullest among them is as sharp as the or even in a walk. Ride and tie, perhaps, if, as I 'oi,'
appetite of a crocodile after a banyan day. This pose, it means one's being tied on—but no, gIY bat',.l
is an axiom which—unlike the patent safety cabs genius would evade even that security. Above a11,_56
—cannot be overturned. The ~ Forged Will" is for certain visits to Epsom and Ascot,l should haveqe,, ,
a story of wild and fearful interest, professing to down horse-racing as a pleasant fiction. That Buckle').;
be founded on fact. " Bartholomew Fair, Past without being buckled on, should have reachscl, so ';''
and Present" describes the glories of this rollick- age he attained to—or that Day should have hMes.,,,
ing holiday festival, as it existed in the good old long a day—are to my mind "remarkable insb`fice::.
times—say, half a century ago. It is now, we of longevity" far more wonderful than any recorn,di,
fear, numbered amons, the things that were, in the newspapers. How a jockey can bestride,
greatly, no doubt, to the satisfaction of the im- what is more, start with one of those thorough''
mortsil author of the " Lord Mayor's Voyage to steeds, is to me a standing, or rather runni,„nt,
es-''-'
Oxford," who some years ago formally de- rather flying miracle. Were I a Robinson or a "tie;
flounced it from the pulpit at Pirnlico, as a scene I should certainly think of the plate as a coffin'T for . .
of awful vice and villainy, where reckless liber- and that, the stakes were such as those that were -4'-'''
. , - ,
tines were constantly on the look-out for un- merly driven through self-murderers' bodies.
_t: ,
sophisticated maid-servants, whom they too It would appear, then, that a rider, like s l'i;r!)':
often tempted to " let go the anchor of their must be born and not made—that there are
virginity ! If we remember rightly, these were races of men as differently fated as the silver;sP,;l4!'::
Dr. Dillon's own words; and wonderfully ex- and the wooden-ladled—some coming into the ir,,tis,'
pressive they are, and sure to create an intense 30 to speak, at Ryde, others, like myself, at -i7loP'').
sensation, when delivered from a Pimlico pulpit. cray, and thus, by necessity, equestrians or
"A Campaign with the Christinos" contains trians. In fact, to corroborate this theory', t 7, if,'"j,
some graphic descriptions, together with charac. the Championship, which, being hereditary',
.1".0`
teristic sketches of:well-known Spanish leaders. least one instance of a gentleman being ordaill'ile:,
" The Philosophy of Time" is somewhat obscure horseback from his birth. As to me, instead
.f.,,,,,,004,-:
and enigmatical-as.regards the ' letter-press por- trograding through Westminster-hall on Cato, •-ir.0,,.
tion of the article; but the embellishments are have backed out of the office.- It is probable, 1;
lively and' faticiful ;'aftd: the engraving 'entitled Ever; -that 'beside- 'the causes' alread' "ehtiiterilf,re;A
`W TO-day" Thrills 'a Striking pictorial allegory. something of my inaptitude may be due to 111:14,0e;
e close with, ao extract from Ingoldsby's Cession. It has been remarked elsewhere as ttr;iat4°'
' whimsical version of the legend of the„ "Babes that "sedentary persons seldom have a:gonct 00 47,
in the 'Wood." The wicked uncle, having re- and literary men generally appear to have' her:Ll - 01'1 '.:,
solved on getting rid of his deceased brother's par, as to horsemanship, with the sailors. '1"7,,;14 .
children, sends for two Bravos, as is duly stated thor of " Paul Pry," in an extremely Lun—se*
in the following stanzas : naper, has recorded his own quadrupedal mischfitf,
Having thought on the How and the When Coleridge, for a similar or still greater inealToalt
To get rid of his nephew and niece, was discharged from a dragoon regiment. i's life.
He now sent for two ill-looking men, avowedly never went " horse-pickback" in b bold .
And he gave them five guineas a piece.— Byron, for all his ambition to be thought a sub'
Says he, " Each of you take up a child cavalier, and in spite of his own hints on the fr
On the crupper, and when you have trotted ject, appears to have been such an indifferems ife,
Some miles through that wood lone and wild, ormer—andi Sir Walter Scott, as we read in I'llfal
Take a knife out and cut its carotid ! " tumbled from his galloway, and Sir HumPhrYBs ‘416
l:..
"Done" and " done" is pronounced on each side, umped over him. Even Shakspeare, as far ,efet
While the poor little dears are delighted have any account of his knowledge of horses, at',,,
?,ot beyond holding them. Lord Chesterfield l
To think they a cock-horse shall ride,
And are not in the least degree frighted; scribed Doctor Johnson's appearance in the saute p-I'.'4
out the catalogue would be too tedious. Su° esce,4
They say their "Ta! Ta!" as they start,
riding be the "poetry of motion," authors ,,,ii ,5
And they prattle so nice on their journey,
her in its prose.
That the rogues themselves wish to their heart rat./
They could finish the job by attorney.
Nay, one was so taken aback
By seeing such spirit and life in them,
That he fairly exclaimed, "I say, Jack,
I'm blow'd if I Can put a knife in them !"
" Pooh!" says his pal, "you great dunce!
You've pouch'd the good gentleman's money,
So out with your whinger at once,
And scrag Jane, while I spiflicate Johnny !"

FRASER'S MAGAZINE. ate?
In an introduction to a " Life of Sir 1>
In
Maxwell," which heads this Number, the,fsisso''
expresses his gratification at having °lnso,l
such a memoir, which, he adds, is "at sset;')
original and authentic." We think he „,sso
rates the value of the biographical conune7,l s 1
Lion he has secured, for the gallant 1311:t s'
i
however exemplary he might have been '
•°t
~ s
private capacity, was, as a public charalo
ittle or no importance, and is already' a' ar,
Ibrgotten. He achieved no naval trittinPhs'ises
played no striking talents for naval wart: e% ot,'
is only remarkable for having stood for $13.00:,
of Westminster, in opposition—if we realra sfks
rightly—to Sir John Hobhouse. Here-''_,,
anecdote of his infancy, which is the only
00e7.
taining one we can find in the present. 14. . ''
ofchaipstabin miograaxpwh
eyll—had in his service a lad_s'lv-11.''r:lifii
often exhibited signs of a bad as well es Of `imbue
temper, but whom no one suspected of beiegas' y tisio3 "I
with a disposition absolutely diabolical. One was' tt%„'s'
youth committed some fault, for which I se h!",,
corrected him. He took his beating sulkily, fir;''
was apt to do, but no more was thought of the Tail)
and, by and by, Captain and Mrs. Maxwell' si3OP
the children at home, went, according to a Pilas ssi
i
engagement, to spend a day or two with the
,are ti;',
Galloway. That very night the groom set botriblii
Penningham Manse, and so managed his „sot P''
scheme, that, but for the working of some reuli'oftbt,
better feeling within his own breast, the wh°ll,4ooo,'
inmates must have perished. There was, it 'L.rve b,
one of Captain Maxwell's children, we belle T
eldest son, to whom the lad was much attached' 001
thought of giving him over to certain death v'zsgro et
than even the incendiary could endure, so he rtipe's
through the smoke and flames into the 0131'.00.rt
where his favourite lay and called him 1111„-/ tr.
rise. Happily, there were other occupants %Aape
chamber than one. The alarm was instantly biolf,
the cry ran from room to room, and without itierf 011
so much as to put on their apparel, the mein btls:
the family ran into the open air. They Inetbsbel
was to discover that two were still missing, ° 1.5.
Murray was one. We have been given to unde4
that of the horrors of that moment, when, s ilk,
suddenly out of sleep, he found his chambers., tP',
-with smoke, Sir Murray Maxwell retained, ,yeisb?
last day of his life, a distinct recollection. 1-' hod
could he tell, except from the reports of othetsciio
he and his younger brother escaped. "it,:e .
arm," he used to say, "seized us. I was t'''.a b
bomy little brother a year and a-half old, an . I
wrapped up in the coverlid, we neither saw n°ressfi
more, till we found ourselves in the midst of 1!,
of people, all of whom were shouting 'lnstill' fess' rig
fact was, that a blacksmith, who used to w°,l'l‘iv,
family, not finding the two boys beside we - 4
at the muster, eagerly inquired for them. lit „t hewsig
ascertained, and not before, that they haan-rs,
removed from their chamber; and in their e"ot 9;
they would have doubtless perished, had, .1,1100,7.
promptitude of the blacksmith been as consPtosti-:h
action as it had first shown itself to be in dell:9
The gallant fellow dashed through the blazing'
ran up-stairs, burst open the children's door, ti Prso
them up tightly in the coverlids and called t° ned.);e
below to receive his burden. He then clr°Prtr7;sse
unconscious boys into the arms that were outs.veirei
to break their fall, and saved himself by leap '.' 4
. •
the garden. jo‘ 002
" My Life and Times" by Nimrod vi e;,(1,
brought to a close. We have read the ' 4
with interest, and have been particularlYosiif,"
with the biographer's account of bbiih) •
studies, and the classical criticisms in
_....,,mr j sills
freely indulges. He tells us that " Te',lii
was the first work that ever called fort 11,1
a decided love of reading; and .that .„„noirsak
which made a deep and lasting -iniflrv-401V
his mind was " Roderick Random."'" ario4
that lie tried hard to get through Ri',oo,P9'ol
novels, but could not succeed—and floc p i
for despite the interested eulogiums 9,;a4r, le
Johnson, the author of " Clarissa 1130, Of
was a prolix and insipid writer, .° of 00
stead of taxing the sensibilities -t itso' is
readers, taxed only their patience. I,ehiogl I
be confessed there are some. fine :nd lii
Richardson. The spirit, and grace) '-, yrs „,se'
Lovelace's letters will not easily be sei:10",i00
and the morning scene at the notab'efsin 'sO
house in Soho.square is one of the rnestioteA
bits of painting in the language, as Kona 1A
vigorous, and as matter-of-fact, as , ,ceo , sie
" Gin-lane." But these rare excellelsrste.:4l,
not compensate fbr whole pages of 'O, .L
tame prolixity. Quitting English autli°oess9ll
rod proceeds to speak of the Latin,
we'iset 11
says of Virgil's pet hero, that he is ' assksliai
pious, valiant, good-natured, patient, ~.gess,,s. 0
to his purpose." Fine epithets .tlltiaiti,
wholly unmerited by the " pius...S'fosi,4 SO'
was a methodistical scamp, a.canting e- of Oki,
that most heartless of characters, .a '7 toSnsle
seducer. His mean, tricky condue: thee
whom lie deserted, as he pretended, o",ei, sails
mind of Apollo, is not to be forgut`e.)o9:o4
given. Having seduced her Cartnsciolo7oo
jesty under promise of marriage, he ca._ a Id'
—as Winifred Jenkins would saY"-
,‘„,e:,,v 1
an honest woman of her;" and lid 10,00
llido's advisers, we should certain Y' _ ,4,10500
commended her bringing an action i'0"11' 00;1
of promise," which would, no doub'';', adS.,Ol,
brought /Eneas to his senses, for ',le ileettehell
derful care for his own personal re_7l) as letf
and was never so :moralss, his. Neff;
Referring on his lulu obSe beo
Referring to Terence, 'Nimrod
to site'
"he has no charms for me." -N•or ibrosiPicid;
for we think him an elegant, but ' ever.-`o°
matist, whose best scenes scare ely ethos% a'
more than a languid smile. Pia! JELLS, ig 012fAt ?
so choice or polished in his lang-tiage4aboOPY"
dozen Terences. His " Amphisi •you

He refus'd, and harsh language ensued,
Which ended at length in a duel,
When he that was mildest in mood
Gave the truculent rascal his gruel ;
The Babes quake with hunger and fear,
While the ruffian his dead comrade, Jack buries ;
Then he cries, " Loves, amuse yourselves here
With the hips, and the haws, and the blackberries !
" I'll be back in a couple of shakes ;
So don't, dears, be quivering and quaking :
I'm going to get you some cakes,
And a nice butter'd roll—that's a-baking!"
He rode off with a tear in his eye,
Which soon ran down his rough cheek and wet it,
And he said to himself with a sigh,
" Pretty souls !—don't they wish they may get it !"
From that moment the Babes ne'er caught sight
Of the wretch who thus wrought their undoing,
But passed all that day and that night
In wandering about and " boo-hoo''-ing.
The night proved cold, dreary, and dark,
So that, worn out with sighing and sobbings,
Next morn they were found stiff and stark,
And stone-dead, by two little Cock-Robins.
These two little birds it sore grieves
To see what so cruel a dodge I call,
They cover the bodies with leaves,
An interment quite ornithological ;
It might more expensive have been,
But I doubt, though I've not been to see 'ern,
If among those in all Kensal Green
You could find a more neat Mausoleum.
Now, whatever your rogues may suppose,
Conscience always makes restless their pillows,
And Justice, though blind, has a nose,
That sniffs out all conceal'd peccadilloes.
The wicked old Uncle, they say,
In spite of his riot and revel,
Was hippish and qualmish all day,
And dreamt all night long of the d—L
He grew gouty, dyspeptic, and sour,
And his brow, once so smooth and so placid,
Fresh wrinkles acquired every hour,
And whatever he swallowed turned acid.
The neighbours thought all was not right,
Scareely one with him ventured to parley,
And Captain Swing came in the night,
And burnt all his beans and his barley.
There was hardly a day but some fox,
Ran away with his geese and his ganders,
His wheat had the mildew, his flocks
Took the rot, and his horses the glanders ;
His daughters drank rum in their tea,
His son, who had gone for a sailor,
Went down in a steamer at sea,
And his wife ran away with a tailor.