The Sun.
London, England, 1842-08-01 00:00:00

NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE.

• In a diverting tale. with the ad captandwn title of the
" Grimsby Ghost," Mr. Iltiod thus whimsically discus-
ses the theory of apparitions. " Ghosts In! hanged ! No
such things in nature; all laid long ago, beton, the wood
pavement. What should they come for ? The colliers
may rise for higher wages, and the Chartists may rise
for Reform, end Joseph Sturge may rise f r his health,
and bread may ri,e, and the rising generation na isi•;
but that the dead should rise only to make one's hair
• rise,- is more than I can credit. Suppose your: el! ,a
ghost. Well,, if you coire out of yotir grave to se eve
a friend, how are you to help him ? And if its an
enemy, what's the use of appearing to him, if you can't
pitch into him ?" This is excellent logic, as far as
male goblins are concerned, but Mr. Ho .d forgets, that
''Ofilit e. •
tin,r is More:. likely. than dat female appatitiozs
ould rise and visit their .old acquaintance, if only for
the purpose of showing off their new dress ! One of the
best authenticated ghost stori, s on record, is that
of the wooden Highlander at a tobacconist's in Hol-
born, who Walked. up stairs into his owner's bed-room
one night, and assured him, on the honour of
a gentleman, that he had just had his head knocked off
by the Marquis of Waterford ! The tobacconist rose in
a fright, rushed down stairs, and there, sure enough, was
the Highlander, standing at the shop dour without his
head, which is . a proof—as all the old women in the
neighbourhood as: erred—that the story must have been
true ! Mr. Hood relates an anecdote quite as authentic
as this—namely, that the figure-head of the ship Bri-
tannia appeared early one morning to a drunken boat-
swain, and informed him that the vessel of which she
formed a portion, had been wrecked the previous night
off Cape Cod! Capital stories these to relate by
ChriStmas fire-side, when the clock is striking twelve,
the wind is howling down the chimney, and coffins are
bouncing out of the grate. " Short Rides in an Author's
Omnibus" is a series of brief aphoristical remarks, some
of which evince much worldly sagacity. The author is
Mr. Horace Smith, who, unlike Swift and Rouchefoucault,
adopts the most favourable views of humanity in all his
observations. Indeed he plainly tells us he is an Opti-
mist, though not of the Doctor Pangloss school. "Remi-
niscences of a Medical. Student" is a thrilling narrative
of a two-fold murder, perpetrated under the most toys-
terious circumstances, The story exhibits much of that
truthful, earnest, matter-of-fact air which arrested the

reader's attention so forcibly in Mr. Warren s" Physi-
cian's Diary." The "Five Incumbents" is an amusing
series of sketches of character, in the conr,e of which an
anecdotels told of the late Lord Eldon, which—if true,
and we see no reason to doubt it—redounds greatly to
his credit as a man of feeling and generosity. The pre-
sent chapters of the " Barnabys in America" are heavy
and wire-drawn, with the sole exception of the scene
wherein the clever, intriguing widow is represented as
reading her manuscript Journal of Travels in the United
States, to a party of American slave owners at New
Orleans. This scene, though somewhat caricatured, is
full of rich humour.' We quote Mr. Hood's quaint
sketch of the " Undertaker," which -is in the punning,
pointed, obsolete manner of old South or Butler :
As a Neighbour he is to be shunned. To live opposite to him
is to fall under the Evil Eye. Like the Witch that forespeaks
other Cattle, he would rot you as soon as look at you if it could
be done at a Glance ; but that Magic being out of Date, he con-
tents himself with chcosing the very Spot on the House Front.
that shall serve for a Hatchment. Thenceforward he watches
your going out and your conning in : your rising up and your
lying down, and all your Domestic Imports of Drink and Vic-
tual, so that the Veriest She Gossip in the Pariah is not more
familiar with your Modes and Means of Living, nor kn nW3 so
certainly whether the Visiter that calls daily in his Chariot is
a mere Friend or a Physician. Also he knows your Age to a
Year, and 3 OUT Height to an Inch, for he bath measured you
with his Eye for a Coffin, and your Ponderosity to a Pound,
for he bath an Interest in the Dead Weight, and hath so far in-
quired into your Fortune as to guess with what Equipage you,
shall travel, on your last Journey. For, in Profess,onal Curi-
osity, he is truly a Pall Pry. Wherefore, to dwell near him
is as melancholy as to live in view of a Church-
yard; but to be within Sound of his Hammerings is to hear
the Knocking at Death's Door.
. .

To be Friends with an Undertaker is as impossible as to be
the Crony of a Crocodile. He is b, Trade a Hypocrite, and
deals of Necessity in Mental Reservations and Equivoques.
Thus he drinks to your good Health, but hopes, secretly it will
not endure. He is glad to find you are so hearty as to be Apo-
plectic ; and rejoices to see you so stout,—with a short Neck.
He bids you beware of your old Gout—and recommends a
Quack Doctor. He laments the malignant Fever so prevalent
—and wishes you may get it. He compliments your Co.r.i-
plexion—when it is Blue or Yellow; admires y0urup127,1,4
Carriage,—and hopes it will break down. Wishes you Gd
Day, means everlasting Night ; and commends his
Re-
spects to your Father and Illother—but hopes you do not.s honour
; i
them. In short, his good Wishes are treacherous h
Inqui-
ries are suspicious; and his Civilities are dangerous ;,as when
he preffercth the Use cf his Coach—or to see you Home.
For the rest,
Naturalists, he is still at odds with Humanity ; at constant
issue with its
and its Philanthropists, its Saes,
its Ceunsellors, and its Legislators. For example, he praises
the Weather—with tie Wind at East ; and rejoices in a wet
Spring and Fa 1, for Death and he reap with one Sickle, and
have a good or bad Ilar.est in common. He objects not to
Bones in Bread (being as it were his own Diet), nor to ill
Drugs in Beer, nor to Sugar of Lead or arsenical Finings in
Wine, nor to ardent Spiiiis, nor to Interment in Churches.
Neither loth he discountenance the Sitting on Infants; nor the
swallowing of Plum Stones; nor of c6id Ices at hot Balls—nix
the drinking of Embrocations, nay he bath been known to con-
tend that the wrong Dose was the right one. He approves,
contra the Physicians, of a damp lied, and wet Feet—of a hot
Head and cold Extremities, and lends his own Countenance to
the Natural Small Pox, rather than enc, urage Vaccination—
which he calls a flying in the Face of Providence. Add to
these, a free Trade in Poisons, whereby the Oxalic Crystals
may currently become Proxy for the Epsom ones; and the cor-
rosive Sublimate as common as Salt in Porridge. To the same
End he would give unto every Cockney a Privilege to shoot,
within ten miles round London, without a Taxed Licence, and
would never concur in a Fine or Deodand for Fast 13! iving,
except the Vehicle were a Hearse. Thus, whatever the po-
pular Cry, he runs counter : a Heretic in Opinion, and a Hy-
pocrite in Practice, as when he pretends to be sorrowful at a
Funeral ; or, what is worse, affects to pity the ill-paid Pcor,
and yet helpeth to screw them down.
To conchole, he is a Per,onage f ill rresage to
of Life.: a Raven on the Chimney Pot—a Deathwatch in the
Wainscot-.-a Winding Sheet in the Candle. To meet with

him is ominous. His Looks are smister ; his Druz is lugu-
brious his Speech is :prophetic ; and his Touch is mortal.
Netettheless he hail. one Merit, and in thiS our 'World, and in
these our Tittles, it a main one; namely, that vihatever he
Undertakes he Performs-.

MATS WOR 7 ll' S MAGAZIN E.
More than half this number is takeirup with Mr. Ains-
worth's tale of the " Miser's Daughter," which figures
in ell the glory of large type. in order that its merits
may be set off to the best advantage. This is a fashion
of recent date among the monthly periodicals, and is one
more honoured in the breach than the observance. Let
each article stand on its own deserts, and be left to make
its own way with the public, instead of being indirectly
puffed, through the artful medium of large, showy print.
Mr. Ainsworth etory needs .no such help to popularity,
for it is really very clever, and would be read with inte-
rest, even were ft .rs6t. printed in a more conspicuous type
than the rest of the aefeles. The scene where the Miser
is discovered bugsying his tr:asure in the earth, is power-
fully written ; and we like it ti".~e more, that there is no
visible effort made to produce effect. The Sketch of Rare-
high, as it exietsd in the year 1740, is net less striking ;
and the occount of the duel in Tothillefies, between
Randulph and Beau Villiers, le minds us, 11l snl.:e of its
minute, characteristic touches, of the fr• e and easy ;11113'
of Steele in the 'Fader. This is high praise, but it is
not unmerited. The "Songs of Italy" is a eery sessO
paper. A much abler essay on the same subject appeared
in Bentley's Miscellany some months since. " Mary
O'Brien" is from the pen of Lady Harrittte D'Orsay, and
will please, by reason of its touching and unefkcted
plicity. The " Angel of the Flowers" diSplays more
botanical knowledge than poetical ability. The " Co-
qusktte's Week" is a whitnsieal journal of seven days'
conquests, supposed to be penned by a fashionable flirt.
Some of the hits are very pointed, and will be appre-
ciated at the West-end—that paradise of coquettes. " A
Vision of CoVentry:" is an ingenious idea, ingeniously
wrought out. The " General Cemetery at' Elenetie-
green" is an exceedingly interesting article, wherein a
minute description is given of the different tombs and
mausoleums in this picturesque place of interment. We
have long projected a summer afternoon's visit to this
-cemetery, if only to see the last resting-place of Doctor
Valpy—one of the mist liberal and enlightened of men.
and sincerest of Christians. Besides, there is nothing
like a quiet evening's stroll through such a seem., to
calm the spirit, and teach us to set a just Value—and-1M
more—on existence. Do es e toil Laker wealth and sta-
. tion ? Here, about us—each tomb speaking eloquently
and directly to the heart—lie' the results of all worldly
toil I Not a heap of ashes in this newly-erected cemetery
but, ten years since, was informed by a living spirit,
alternately-elated or depressed by fortune's smiles or
frowns. But their day is past—their sun is set —and
even while we stand musing beside the graves of the
departed, our sun, too, is verging en its decline Thoughts
like theSe are useful, not as inducing melancholy, but as
tending to trim the mental balance. and impart an
equable tone to the spirits. To sespeeciate Life pro-
perly, it is necessary at times to keep J)eath in view ;
and where can he assume a more cheerful end benign
aspect, than in this sylvan field of sepulture, where
so sound strikes the ear—no sight meets te.:.‘?
eye, but such as conduce to peace and con-
tentment ? The Report of the "Twelfth Meeting of the
British Association at Manchester" is as dry as a ship-
biscuit. "A Gossip about England's Helicon" is a
tasaiful critical paper by Mr. Robert Bell. This gentle-
man—if we may judge from the tenor of his criticism--
is an ardent admirer of the writers of the Elizabethan
age ; a race of giants, certainly, but, with the exception
of Shakspeare, Jonson, and one or two other luminaries,
rude, clumsy, and of very ogre-like proportions. Who
can read the vigorous, saturnine Webster, without find-
ing something to shock his taste and ,oddment in every
page ? Ford's "Broken Hart." ii deservedly admired
for its frequent bursts of passion and tenderness ; but
was there ever such a prepusterous dcnouentent ? - Cyril
Tourneur's " Revenger's Tragedy," where a lover is
represented making a long complimentary. address to the
skull of his dead lady—what an object for love to linger
on with admiration if possible still inure ridicu-
lous and revolting. We admire the E izabethan writers,
but ours is a qualified admiration ; we protest against
enthusiasm in such a cause. The " Shrift on the Raft"
is an impressive story. The hero, Count de Burieny,
has been wrecked off Notway, in the ship Dronthaeini.
Unknown to himself, his daughter was in the same
vessel when, she foundered, and the Count is almost
the only one of the crew:who escapes. After swimming
about for some hours, he encounters a raft whereon a
'priest is sitting, who had also managed to effect his
escape, and assists the Count to climb up the sides of the
raft. The following scene then takes place, from which
it would seem that the priest was no other -than the
Devil himself disguised in the decorous attire of a cler-
gyina
The Priest made no reply, but pointed to the water. A
sudden and wondrous change had taken place upon its surface.
In lieu of the foaming and dashieg.billowe; the sea had become
ca mas a mountain lake. The res. of the waves was hushed,
but in its stead, had arisen a hew, droning, arid distant sound,
which brought with it a fear the mind owned, but could not
explain. The raft had hitherto been .arried swittl along, but
its speed was now increasing tenfold. The consternation of
the Count became evident, butt to all his exclamations the.
Priest gave no answer. That strange droning sound grew
gradually loud. r, but the ear struggled in. rain to discover how
it was Cu.: posed. Still the raft burned on with lightning
speed. Darkness was all around it. save the bright red gleam
of the Pliest's lamp.
Suddenly the 111011;21-d of his ilaught,r recr, ssod the C. uni's
brain. He gaspea—tur the sw if ness of their course now Ven-
d, red speaking oiffi. ult—
t. ! 1 implote
.ydu, Vllt.ktiow yin top;,:iiia?"
Once more the Priest Silently to the watt e, And as
the k unties eye ficloweJ i4eirg beheld a f ,rm v ttieiLt,g
by his side in a content. the ihLSrise f4reeness of Nhich ren•.
dered its surface smooth There was tbe corpse of a
pale and beautiful girl, lovely even in death.. Long and golden
locks clustered around her Leek and shoulders, hut the leeks
were wet arid tangled, 0.,,t1 the atahaster skin was becemieg blue
mitt, exposure to the. water. , The (ass were clo.,ed—it was
well they were so. That form wss foleasing the raft, but the
increasing velocity of the latter lett the corpse behind in a
moment ; that moment had sufficed for a father to. recog-
nise his daughter. lie uttered no word, but gazed steadily at
the Priest.
The terrible and indescribable sound had now .incr-ased to a
roar. which would have rendered the ..oice inaudible at the
shortest distance: 'I be speed of the raft was no.. terrific ; yet
it neither swerved our swayed, and the Priest sat unmoved, re-
turning, the stultified 'gaze of the Count ! Suddenly one side
of the raft became depressed, and in that position it continued
its furious career. 'The roar had now become more hideous
than any noise which can be conceived, and yet it was of a
nature that baffled the ear. The Priest rose slowly to hi feet,
and preserving his balance, apparently unconscious of the
frightiul slope of the hurrying raft, he leaned to De Liurigny.
and in a low tone, which, in spite of the humble noise around,
cal ried the full meaning of its words to the Count's under-
standing, said—
" We are in.the Maelstrom !"

They 'ere indeed in that dreadful wlairlpool— the most
awful abyss which do.figures the face ot creation. ['bat hideous
roar, so strange and so appalling, was the sound of the waters
which whirl and rage in the. unfa.honiable gulf. Louder and
louder still it waxed, until the ear could bear no addition to the
noise, and faster and faster flew the raft, but every i.istant it
went deeper down the vertex. The wretched De Burigny
struggled with the cord which held him to the raft, and sought
to break from it in vain. The link which he had demanded
when exertisn would have saved him, was now the means of
dragging him more surely to destruction. For one instant he
looked upwards, and, to his horror, beheld the red light of the
lamp, reflected on a sloping wall ot raging waters, rising a
hundred yards above him, down the side of which he was
hurrying to an abyss on which be dared give no glance. Then
his eye turned to the raft—there was no one upon it; hut in
the maddening agony of that moment De Burigny heard, ac-
companied by a hellish laugh, the words—" l't,e Priest's dues
for thy shrift arc paid l" The next instant, the cords gave
way), the raft shot violently forwards, and De Burigny was
alone—in the Maelstrom.