The Sun.
London, England, 1842-12-01 00:00:00

AINSWORTH'S MAGAZINE.

The first thing to be noticed in this Number is
George Cruikshank's ghastly sketch of the wild
English huntsman—the well-known Herne the
hunter. Nothing can be finer in its way than
this sketch. It is like one of Fuseli's striking
fancies, but with less exaggeration. A strange,
lurid gloom—a sort of "darkness visible," has
settled ou earth; a solitary -owl is flitting above
the massive foliage of the foreSt; and the spec-
tral antler-crowned hunter, mounted on a coal
black charger—the fac-simile of that which bore
the phantom knight crashing through the woods
in Dryden's noble tale of " Theodore and Ho-
noria —is just about to plunge into the sable,
Styx-like lake, closely followed by his one-
headed Cerberus. All is in perfect keeping
throughout this sketch, though it mnst be con-
fessed, that as an engaaving, it shows, in places,
both 'haste and slovenliness. Mr. Ainsworth, in
his " Windsor Castle," has contented himself with
just briefly glancing at this old Berks legend; but
few as are his touches, they are as startling and
bewildering as they should be, to be in harmony
with the subject. Mr. Raymond continues his
"Elliston Papers," and we confidently predict
that he will make a very delightful volume of
them. His account of the young actor's journey
to Bath by the slow " Invalid' coach—what a
vehicle for a bounding, mercurial young spirit
like Elliston to travel by !—of the snug social
supper at the little way-side inn, with the com-
passionate hostess and her pretty daughter,
Alice—which reads like a bit of Boz—the pas-
sing references to Elliston's contrition, and the
brief biographical sketch of Tate Wilkinson—
these various matters are hit off with evident
a 'familiar anecdote with pleasing, unaffected
vivacity, as our readers will see by referring to
his cursory sketch of that managerial phenome-
non, Tate Wilkinson. The essay on the " Plea-
sures and Advantages of Personal Ugliness" will
carry comfort to the hearts of all Frights—to
borrow a phrase from the drawing-room—and
even enable them to read Lady Blessington's
" Book of Beauty" with something like com-
placency. It is very amiable in the author thus
to endeavour to reconcile the dwarfs to their
humps—the sons of Anak to their ogre dimen-
sions—the Buckhorses to their hare lips—and
the Jack Wilkeses to their buck-teeth and pug-
noses. The " Cholera in Ireland" is somewhat
dull and prolix. " Sonnets by Mr. Sergeant
Talfourd" are in the most cordial and graceful
vein of the stateliest and most imaginative of our
living dramatists, whose " Ion," as a recent tra-
veller asserts, has had the high honour of being
translated by an admiring Hellenist into the lan-
guage of the country of Sophocles and Euripides !
We subjoin the sonnet addressed-,to Boz on the
publication of his " Oliver Twist
TO CHARLES DICKENS, ON HIS " OLIVER TWIST."
Not only with the author's happiest praise.
Thy work should be rewarded ; 'tis akin
To deeds of men who, scorning ease, to win
A blessing for the wretched, pierce the maze
Which heedless ages spread around the ways
Where fruitful Sorrow tracks its parent Sin,
Content to listen to the wildest din
Of passion, and on fellest shapes to gaze
So they may earn the power which intercedes
With the bright world and melts it ;--for within
Wan childhood's squalid homes,_ where basest needs
Make tyranny more bitter, at thy call,
An angel face with patient sweetness pleads
For. infant suffering to the hearts of all!