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

BENTLEY'S MISCELLANY.

The autobiography of " Richard Savage" is this
month brought to a termination, and the last mo-
ments of the luckless adventurer are described in a
letter " from Mr. Thomas Dagge, to Mr. Samuel
Johnson, to the care of Mr. Edward Cave, St.
John's-gate, London." There is great skill and
ingenuity shown in this mode of bringing about
the denouement, for Johnson—who was then
writing, for Cave's Gentleman's Magazine, to
which also Savage himself had occasionally con-
tributed—was just the man wile •would have
been most anxious to hear all about his friend's
last hours; first, from a natural feeling of
curiosity, and secondly, because he had decided
on becoming his biographer. And here, on
taking leave of " Richard Savage," we may
observe that the author has done all the justice
to his subject of which it was susceptible ; and
if his tale have not achieved a perfect triumph,
it is because the character of his hero--aotwithe
standing the eulogiums of Johnson—is known to
have been coarse, unprincipled, and depraved; he

was in fact, a rank impostor, as Crok er and Boswell I
have proved beyond the possibility of question.
"M r. Ledhury'sAdventures at Home and Abroad"
are resumed with spirit, though here and there
we are reminded a little too much of the mari-
ner of Dickens in the " Pickwick Papers." Some
of the scenes in middle-class life in Paris show
that the author draws from life, and not from
fancy ; his account of the execution of a mur-
derer by the axe of the guillotine", is as gra-
phic as the late Dr. Macnish's description
of the same tragedy. " Leaves of Legendary
Lore" is from the practised pen of Doctor Taylor,
who has told the fine old tradition of Roland with
considerable animation.. A Night in the
Adriatic" refers to the circunastanee of a murder
which was discovered by means of a dream. The
incidents are supposed to have been related by a
French officer to the authoress while they
were steaming by night across the Adriatic.
Cicero tells a story precisely similar, with
this sole difference, that in his version
of the dream, it was hinted that the re-
mains of the murdered party would be found
in a cart,instead of in a manger. "Pereant male,
aui ante nos, nostra dixerunt !" says the'old
dage, and Mrs. Romer may echo the anathema.
" The Irish Mandarin" is a whimsical extra-
vaganza. setting forth how a Patlander from the
bogs of Tipperary took it into his head to enact
the part of a Chinese Mandarin at a dinner party,
and how he succeeded in imposing on several re-
spectable individuals. " Life in Hanover" con-
tains some pleasing descriptions, but there is
rather too much of it. " Sir Archibald" is a
ghost story, well fitted for Christmas fire-side
reading. The illustrations are throughout excel-
lent. We quote from an article entitled the
"Tiger-hunt" an interesting passage or two :
The tiger had evidently been hit, but springing for-
ward, he galloped along. We now began to pursue
him, but it was very much after the manner that a
good shot in England marks down his game, and fol-
lows it, for to keep up with the royal animal was im-
possible. We trotted about eight miles an hour, the
tiger about sixteen at the least. We therefore con-
tented ourselves with following him, and dislodging
him whenever he got into cover. Finding a village
in front of him, the people of which had turned out,
and fired several shots, the hunted animal endeavoured
to double. In effecting this manoeuvre, he came
within shot of others of the party, who discharged
:their rifles with such effect that in a few moments
the tiger lay senseless on the ground. We now des-
cended from our posts, and approached to view our
prize, which seemed of more than ordinary size.
We had just come up to it, when Lindsay, by way
of explaining some remark he had made relative to it,
touched it with his gun. Imagine our horror and
consternation when suddenly the beast skirang up,
and with one bound cleared the circle. or an in-
stant we stood paralysed, stupified with excess of
fear ; then, rushing towards our elephants, we got
under them ; this being a comparatively safe shelter,
no tiger daring to approach within reach of their
trunks, the enormous animal being ever ready and
eager to kill the royal beast should he make the at-
tempt. The tiger, who had just risen, suddenly find-
ing himself hemmed in on all sides, glared around
him for an instant. Several shots were discharged at
him, some of which taking effect, so maddened the
already infuriated brute that he made a sudden spring
upon the back of the elephant, on which sat the mu-
sicians, and bit at the principal performer, who was
nearest the croup. The poor man naturally shrank
back. The- tiger, however, caught his foot, and tore
off a considerable portion of it; then darting into
the jungle, and, despite of a volley fired at him,
succeeded in gaining the thick covert, from which
for some time we vainly attempted to dislodge him.
Finding all other means fail, we at length sent in the
elephant that carried the fireworks, and began to
throw them lighted into the reeds and brushwood, in
order to frighten the tiger from his hiding-place.
Presently, to our great horror, the jungle took fire.
The mohut An vain urged the elephant, by goading
him, to leave the spot. Alarmed by the flames, he
stood perfectly still • nothing could induce him to
move. The mohut, therefore, and those on his back,
were fain to slip down, and risking even a rencontre
with the tiger, make their way out of the now burning
cover. This they did in safety. Never in my life did
I look on a more magnificent sight than the confla-
gration now'before me. Disturbed by the fire, animals
of every kind, serpents of every hue, burst from the
burning jungle. The cries of lesser creatures, mingled
with the roar of the affrighted elephant, struck awe
into our hearts. The flames were high ; the whole
country before us presented one mass of fire. No-
thing could exceed the grandeur of the scene.
Standing on- the plain hard by, secure from the
danger, we looked on in silent astonishment and
admiration. Presently a louder roar was heard, and
the elephant dashed ont of the fire. He had evidently
been severely burnt. The pads and trappings on his
back were in flames,. burning and rankling into his
flesh ; the iron girths were actually red-hot, eating
into his sides. He was roaring with agony, and ran
bounding along the open space, his trunk elevated,
lashing his back with his disproportioned tail.
Screaming, mad with torture, in vain we attempted to
pursue him, or close him in. Pain had driven him
mad ; and as the huge animal galloped forward, the
wind, acting on the flames, caused them to devour
still quicker his thick flesh. His mingled roars and
cries 1 can never forget. At length, dashing into a
nullah, he instantly cooled the iron chains, which
phizzed in the water, and in returning once more to
their natural colour, added one more pang to the
wretched animal. We now attempted to offer him
succour, but it was too late. The elephant dived.
The fire was extinguished; but as he came up he
turned on his side, and with one convulsive roar ex-
pired. We now proceeded to return home. The
whole way the cries of the poor musician were occa-
sionally heard. His pain was intolerable. He was
but too well aware of his doom. There is a venom in
the bite of a tiger almost always fatal. So,
alas! it turned- out in this man's case. He died
within eight-and-forty hours.

or an able treatise in this Number, wherein the
Charges7of the Bishops of London and Exeter
are carefully considered, though, from the cautious
character of his observations, we are at a loss 'to
ascertain whether the writer is Tractarian or
Anti-Tractarian in his sentiments. Of the. Bishop
of London's Charge he says, " We rise from its
perusal with a painful feeling about us, that it
scarcely speaks the teal sentiments,of its gifted
author. The Charge might, in most of its telling
clauses, pass current for a dissertation of which
Dr. Pusey or Mr. Newman would not be ashamed
to claim the authorship. From the view which
his,Lordship takes of some of the points under
discussion, Dr. Pusey and • Mr. Newman, Dr.
Bagot and Dr. Phillpotts, also, would with one
accord dissent." In other words, the discreet
Bishop is neither one thing nor the other; neither
High Church nor Low Church, but oscillates, like
a pendulum, between the two. We must confess
that the honest straight-forward intolerance of
Puseyism impresses us with a greater respect
than this trimming, evasive conduct of Dr.
Bloomfield, whose whole Charge seems to be
neither more nor less than an elaborate attetnpt
to conceal his real opinions: In " Reminiscences
of Men and Things" we find some agreeable
souvenirs of the late Armand Carrel, the head
of the Republican party in France; of Victor
Hugo, the popular, and we think, overrated
novelist ; and of Arago, the astronomer. The
death of Armand Carrel, who, it may be
remembered, fell in a duel with Emile de
Girardin, is alluded to in a spirit of sincerest
tenderness. " 'Twas Yesterday," is a thoughtful
poem from the pen of Mr. Charles Swain. We
subjoin it entire :

"'Twas yesterday !" familiar sound,
Heard oft as idle breath;
Yet, prophet-like, to all around,
It spoke of woe and death !
A mourner by the past it stands,
In mystic mantle of decay,
Shrouds in the night of years its hands,
And grasps all life away !
High from the boundless vault of Time
The stars of empire veer ;
"'Twas yesterday' they beam'd
The mightiest in their sphere !
'Twas yesterday reveal'd to Fate
The rival crowns of centuries flown,
Show'd where a phantom sat in state
Upon the Caesar's throne !
Sceptre and robe were cast aside !
The ghastly bones stood bare ; •
The rust fed on the gauds of pride,
The worm held council -there.
Nor answer would the phantom give, .
But to our constant prayer replied—
" Thus 'twill be said of all that live
That yesterday' they died !"
Where are the Grecian conquests now,
The triumphs of her lute?
Dust rests on the Homeric brow,
• • Her genius is mute !
Where are the glorious hearts that fought
For freedom in the " pass of Gore?"
Gone—where the mightiest names are sought-
- With yesterday of yore !
We hope—but what we hope the shroud
Wraps from our weeping sight ;
We aim at stars, and clasp the cloud,—
Seek day, and find but night !
Ali! who with Life's dread woes would cope,
If 'twere not for that Faith sublime,
Which sees the Ararat of Hope
Above the floods of Time ?
What, then, is " Yesterday ?"—a key
To wisdom mosrdivine !
It is the hall of Memory,.
Where Fame's brief trophies shine !
The spiritual borne of things,
Where Intellect immortal beams,
Which lends to thought its holiest wings,
Inspires the noblest themes !
A drop that mirrors forth a world,
Then mingles with the earth ;
A star from
Time s vast empire hurled,
Slow falling from its birth.
Which saith,—' •
A presence with the sacred past
to warn our " spirits of delay
Proud man, to-day thou halt,
Use well thy little day !
We agree with th' writer of the .essay
headed " Arnold and Smyth on Modern
H
aee
snsst telorrricoiasf," in
for
b
Dr. Arnold was indeed
e
judgment and cleamighted.
was full of chastened fervour,
rn:r.of the literary clia,
and distinguished by the free and easy play of
its eloquence; and, had he lived, there is little
doubt that he would have won for himself a
foremost rank among European historians. But
lie was cut off in the very prime of his summer,
when the world was eagerly anticipating the rich
fruits of his matured intellect. The " Late Event
at Cologne" is a very dull and languid ode.
"My Namesake" is a passable story. In bslthebe
r:oti
is
o.
o estimate
his
Nim-
rod's 4 6 My Life and Times"ne have some inter.
esting particulars respectin-
g the autobiographer's
literary undertakings. According to his own ac-
count, he must have made considerable sums by
his pen, and turned his sporting knowledge to
most profitable account. He deserves his suc-
cess, for he is a manly, cheerful, unassuming
writer, who gossips sociably and affably with his
reader, just as though he were sitting with him
over a glass of good old wine, by a blazing
Christmas fire-side.

THE SUN, LONDON, THURSDAY EVENING, DECEMBER 1, 1842

quiz oil classical fictions. The doggrel Latinity
—that is to say, the English idioms rendered
literally into Latin—are very archly and inge-
niously introduced. The egregious anachronisms,
too, and exquisite ignorance of Roman familiar
life and character, are scarcely a burlesque on
some would-be classical novels that we have read
of late years. The "Neighbours" is a laudatory
notice of a tale translated firm the Swedish
by Mrs. Howitt. "Cracknels for Christmas" is
a smart, satirical squib; but why is Mr. Tenny-
son so unmercifully ridiculed ? He is as genuine
a poet, despite some affectations and puerilities,
as any of modern times. In the review of " Lays
of Ancient Rome," Mr. Macaulay is warmly
eulogised, but not more so than he deserves.
"In the unpromising field of the Roman annals,"
says the Reviewer, " this gentleman has found
rich materials apt for his purpose, which he has
fashioned and moulded with a skill and felicity
bordering on creative genius. If his " Lays"
are not of the solid or utilitarian kind of litera-
ture expected from a modern statesman and
jurist, they are in nothing incompatible with
the higher part of the nature of such grave
characters."

Ready this day,
lIIHE MEDICAL TIMES ALMANAC
• (72 Quarto Columns for 4d.), containing all the Useful
Matter of the best-compiled Almanac, an Abstract of the last
PHA RM A COPCEIA, a complete A ecount of all the Microscopic
Discoveries in Anatomy and Physiology, Lists of Poisons and
their Antidotes, with matter of extreme interest to all classes
of readers.

May be had of all Booksellers and Newsmen. Office, (late
Lancet Office,) Essex-straet, Strand.

ETROPOLITAN YOUNG MEN'S ANTI-
I V_Ll- MONOPOLY ASSOCIATION.—The Committee
beg to remind the Members of the above Association, that
their Yearly Subscriptions are now due. The Committee meet
to receive Subscriptions, and for other business, from 7 till 9
every Evening, at Hart's Temperance Hotel, Ib9, Aldersgate-
street, where the attendance of Friends of the Cause who may
be willing to assist the Committee, will be esteemed a favour.
Subscriptions for the ensuing year, 2s. Gd.

bi
‘5444Ar
FA% CAI,--)4+4114