The Sun. — 1858-02-19 (London, England)

VII. By W. Harrison  AiusivortlL  Tie my,terieus bed riugi!ig is explained, .3ua explained, um, most ingeniously. It proves to have been a trick played upon Old Hazy by one Dr. Hooker (our old friend or rather enemy Simon Pownall), then lodging next door to the grange at the adjoining farm house, occupied by Mr. Hazelrigge's bailiff, Stephen Blackden. Hooker, alias Simon Pownal, has effected the diabolical tintiunabulation by means of a galvanic battery adroitly put in communication with the bell-wires Hence the Edgar-Poe like hubbub " The jangling and the wrangling, The swinging and the ringing, Of the bells, bells, bells, Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells, • The jingling and the tinkling, The clamour and the clangour of the bells." Mervyn visits his old schoolboy friend, now consumptive Parson Brideoak—not by any means, to our mind, as fine a fellow as he used to be, but rather a fretful, captious, dyspeptic valetudinarian. He turns out to be in love with Ora—hopelessly He possesses the seeret about Sissy Oulchethl whom we half suspeot to be either dead or dying; Ned learns the truth about his missing wife, and seems overwhelmed by it. But the reader is, as yet, still left entirely to his conjectures. The most remarkable passage of all in the present numb r is one in every way worthy of he au. hor of " Ro, wood." It relates the Legend of Owlarton Grange, a terrible tale of murder and starvation. Tnie murderer being the servant of the murdered, and the murdered a miser, who is surprised one day (in, the then lonely and mherwise uninhabited Grange) gloating over his money bags, in a secret closet behind the wa'nscot. A sliding panel has been seCi' dentally left, open, and by this means the villaiaons domestic tracks his miser-master to his tressurh and there beats him to death with a mallet. Loading himself heavily with gold, be returns to the secret entrance, only to find it has blown tom the hidden spring tieing a mystery to him. S° teat the o retch is fairly trapped. Days and nights drag by, and at last the neighbours, having seen 10 one stirring about the house for a long wiale, force an en,rance, and, guided by the feeble knocking of the bloody mallet in the hands of the dying murderer, i.re4k through the parti ion, and so learn the whole atrocity. Such is the legend tf 0 wlartoe Grange, told here in Ainsworth's me st weird manner, and cleverly illustrated by Phiz, in en° of those darklgoblin etchings, first adventured upate if we reinembar rightly, in the embellishment 01 " Bleak House." The story invests itself in each new number with increasing attractions.  Jessie's Wail ove,' Havelock the Bold. Words and Arrangement of the Sootch Airs by D. M. Air" and T. Browne. Out of the apocryphal Jessie of Lucknow, with her " Dinna ye hear it ?" about the imaginal pibroch, much has already been made both by lyrisf and musician. Mr. Aird, iu Anis graceful 804 °f Highland Jessie, has himself charmingly eon; memorated the incident—an incident which, if 1 really -did not occur, is in every way so exquisitely' beautiful, that it ought to have occurred I Sere again, appears before us the fabulous heroine of Highlanders—in whose regard Mr. Aird is certain'', exercising the prerogatives and privileges of P°e.,' to the uttermost. He gives her to us bodily (b' aid of his artist) upon the titlepage, where she reprennted in a visionary rapture at the foot of the HaveloCk monument. With the aisistanoe f Mr. Browne our lyrist has adapted to some of the national airs of Scotland the pathetic words throug° which he has articulated Highland Jessie's lame°. tation for Sir Henry Havelock. The last varlet; however, breaks from the accents of grief into those of exultation. It is the very hypothesis of the O. saviour of Lucknow. As with the previous S°11: . from the Eame hands, the profits of this new ditty' are to be devoted to the increase of the Relief Fund.