The Sun. — 1846-10-05 (London, England)

OCTOBER 5, 1846.  MAGAZINES-(CONTINUED HOOD.  "Ignez de Castro" is brought to a conclusion and, though a drama of singular inequality, is, nevertheless, a very clever performance. The author has transported his whole soul back many centuries, and, cwhiathracttheers intuitivewh aimil;o.:.ets,indciescreirmuninoa,tieel se into dull clay. There is always a Inarvellous fascination in reading any work of an historico romantic cast, whether it be a novel, a drama, or what-not; and that. fascination is in beholding revived to us hearts that have years upon years before ceased to beat, and features that have dwindled into dust. To discern the possible causes of some striking incident recorded in history, to scrutinise in the cabinet some personage with whom we are only familiar as the occupant of a throne, the champion of a populace, the captain of an army, or the counsellor of a Parliament, and to watch the household movements of those hitherto only displayed to us in their public capacity, constitute the principal charms of historical romance, and in a manner elevate it above all other species of imaginative composition. In selecting this style of pencraft, however, a writer entails upon himself a heavy responsibility; he renders himself accountable for all the misapprehensions of facts formed by his reader; the memoirs of the past great and good are committed in a measure to his care ; he may become at pleasure the moral assassin or the apotheosist of some illustrious name. The dead and living alike look to him for an honest narration of occurrences, and a candid exposition of bygone humanity. Unless an historical romancer be armed with the panoply of impartiality, he degenerates into a garbling gossip ; and unless that impartiality be again tempered by intrepidity and self-con• fidence, the author sinks under the burden of his self-imposed responsibility. Mr. Jones has clad himself with this armour of impartiality, and animated himself with this courage. In this respect his tragedy is singularly successful. We are gratified to observe that " Ignez de Castro " is about to be republished separately. " A Word with Dr. Johnson " is a most audacious assault upon the judgment of the monster critic, Samuel Johnson ; and that, too, on his monster criticism, William Shakspere. The impeachment, however, thus ventured upon is one sustained by its own inherent justice. There are no plausibilities about the arguments employed against the great Doctor; but simple homa-truths. Nor is this paper a mere castigation of a blundering criticism—it is a splendid panegyric upon the greatest poet the world ever saw; and, according to the German enthusiasts, the greatest poet the world ever will see ! We commend those who are blessed with a curiosity in liters• ture (we don't mean one a ts Disraeli) to peruse this " Word with Dr. Johnson," commenced in the two preceding numbers of hood's Magazine, and concluded in the number for October. "Blanche Neville" and "Nell Gwynne" are continued, and the plot of each gets more and more delightfully entangled. The residue of this periodical is dedicated to certain unset jewels, some of which, however, turn out, on investigation, to be mere glass and tinfoil. Nevertheless there are some excellencies among these fragments, as, for example, the three " Sonnets for the Times," addressed to the Champions of Civil and Religious Liberty. We observe that this author has a most lamentable facility, month after month, of murdering his admirable Rural Sonnets by alterations, which we regard as anything but improvements. " Let well alone" is a sensible maxim.