MARRIAGE A-LA-MODE.

FIRST PICTURE. THE CONTRACT.

FROM THE WORKS OF WILLIAM HOGARTH, BY THE REV J. TRUSLER.

THERE is always a something wanting to ring, he is quite a husband à-la-mode. The lady, make men happy. The great think themselves very well disposed to retaliate, plays with her not sufficiently rich, and the rich believe them-wedding-ring, and repays this chilling coldness selves not enough distinguished. This is the with sullen contempt; her heart is not worth case of the Alderman of London, and the motive the viscount's attention, and she determines to which makes him covet for his daughter the alli- bestow it on the first suitor. An insidious lawance of a great lord; who, on his part, does not yer, like an evil spirit, ever ready to move or consent thereto but on condition of enriching his second a temptation, appears beside her. That son and this is what the painter calls Marriage he is an eloquent pleader is intimated by his à-la-Mode. name, Counsellor Silvertongue: that he can The portly nobleman, with the conscious dig- make the worse appear the better cause, is only nity of high birth, displays his genealogical tree, saying in other words, that he is great in the the root of which s William, duke of Normandy, profession. To predict that, with such an advoand conqueror of England. The valor of his cate, her virtue is in danger, would not be suffigreat progenitor, and the various merits of the ciently expressive. His captivating tones, and collateral branches which dignify his pedigree, he insinuating manners, would have ensnared Luconsiders as united in his own person and there-cretia.

fore looks upon an alliance with his son as the Two dogs in a corner, coupled against their acme of honor, the apex of exaltation. While he inclinations, are good emblems of the ceremony is thus glorying in the dust of which his ances-which is to pass.

tors were once compounded, the prudent citizen, The ceiling of this magnificent apartment is who, in return for it, has parted with dust of a decorated with the story of Pharaoh and his host much more weighty and useful description, pay-drowned in the Red Sea. The ocean, on a ceiling no regard to this heraldic blazonry, devotes all ing, proves a projector's taste; the sublimity of his attention to the marriage settlement. The a painter is exemplified in the hero delineated haughty and supercilious peer is absorbed in the with one of the attributes of Jove. This fluttercontemplation of his illustrious ancestry, while ing figure is probably intended for one of the the worshipful alderman, regardless of the past, peer's high-born ancestors, and is invested with and considering the present as merely prepara- the golden fleece, and some other foreign orders. tory for the future, calculates what provision To give him still greater dignity, he is in the there will be for a young family. Engrossed by character of Jupiter; while one hand holds up their favorite reflections, neither of these saga- an ample robe, the other grasps a thunderbolt. cious personages regard the want of attachment A comet is taking its rapid course over his head, in those who are to be united as worthy a mo- and in one corner of the picture, two of the famment's consideration. To do the viscount jus-ily of Boreas are judiciously blowing contrary tice, he seems equally indifferent; for, though ways. All this is ridiculous enough, but not an evidently in love, it is with himself. Gazing iota more absurd than many of the French pore mirror with delight, and, in an affected traits, which Hogarth evidently intended to buryle, displaying his gold snuff-box and glittering |lesque by this parody.

in

A grand old church with bells was hung,

All fashioned by his hand;

How they had won him much renown
And honor, in his ancient town.

How love first glided with their sound

Into one gentle heart;

And how their tones had linked it round,
Until the Bells were part

Of its own nature, and were fraught
With beautiful and holy thought.

And when, upon his wedding day,
His ear those joy-bells met;
His own heart-beatings, quick and gay,
Seemed to their music set.

And how that day, hope, love, and pride,
His whole full heart was satisfied.

How she would say those chimes were meet
To mark their pleasant hours,
Which were but the unfoldings sweet

Of joy's fresh-springing flowers.
How their young daughter would rejoice
At theirs, as at its mother's voice.

Like rainbows, many-hued, had shone
Those hours of youthful prime.
At length a fatal storm fell on
The rushing gulf of time;
And smote him in a single day
One wave took wife and child away!

And then the bells poured out a peal
So sorrowful and slow,

To his sick heart they seem'd to feel
For their old master's woe;

And they had cause; for War's red hand
Drove him an alien from the land.

Now, for their sake, an ocean far
In his old age he crossed.
For, in that dire distressful war,

The sweet bells had been lost;
And yearning for their sound again,
He came to seek them o'er the main

Was there, because that western town
Some foreign bells possess'd,
And the fond hope they were his own
Flutter'd his aged breast.

He had in them a father's pride;
He fain would hear them ere he died.

The boatman said, for lovely sound,
His bells they well might be ;
And sooth to say, they had been found
Somewhere in Italy.

Their voices soon would fill his ear;
The time of evening prayer was near.

And as the sunset deepen'd more
The silence and the glow,
They rested, lest one plashing oar
Might break the calm below;

And as they heard the light waves float
Their rippling silver 'gainst the boat,—

Those glorious chimes told out the hour
With stronger waves of sound;
And when the full peal left the tower,
He knew them they were found!
And, with strained ear and lips apart,
He drank their music to his heart.

O! trembling like an under strain

Their sweeping anthem through,
Fame's whisperings grew clear again,
And Hope's old carols, too,
Though all without their ancient thrill,
The true bells kept their echo still.

Fond words from wife and child he caught,
As exquisitely clear

As though some breeze from heaven had
brought

Their voices to his ear.

He lost, in that one moment's ray
The gloom of many a lonesome day.

The boatmen saw the flushing smile
The faded eye that fired:

The thin hand that kept time a while,
Until it sank as tired;

They saw not as the sun went down
How the pale face had paler grown:

How GOD, to his long-waiting hope,

More than it asked had given;
How his dear bells had borne him up
To dearer ones in heaven.
But when the boatmen's toil was o'er:
His soul had reach'd a brighter shore.

The Paris Moniteur states, that during the last his pocket by an adroit pickpocket, while indulg sixty years there have been in times of trouble ab- ing in a short nap. The thief was so disgusted stractions of papers from the archives of the Ma- with the result of his exploit, that he returned rine of France, the recovery of which is greatly the plunder by express, to the address written indesired, chiefly for purposes of historical re-side the wallet, with the following note:-"You search"These writings being often in the hand-miserabil skunk, hears your pocket-book. I don't writing of eminent men, have in many cases, no keep no sich. Fur a man dressed as well as you doubt, found their way into the collections and was to go round with a wellit with nuthin' in it museums of collectors. The restoration of such but a lot of noospapur scraps, a ivury toothpapers or authentic copies of them to the Depart-comb, two noospapur stamps, an' a pass from 3 ment of the French Marine, will be very accept- ralerode directur, is a contempterble impurition able to the French Government."

EDITORIAL. A New Hampshire editor, while recently travelling, had his wallet abstracted from

on the public. As I hear your a editor, I return your trash. I never robs any only gentleman." Country Gentleman, (Albany, N. Y.)

From the Edinburgh Review.

1. Vanity Fair: a Novel without a Hero. By WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY.

London: 1849.

don: 1853.

they are not merely different, but contrasted. One is the impersonation of virtue without intellect, the other that of intellect without virtue. One has no head, the other no heart.

2. The History of Pendennis. By WILLAM Amelia Sedley is amiable by instinct. It is MAKEPEACE THACKERAY. London: 1849. her nature to love all those with whom she 3. The History of Henry Esmond, a Colonel in comes in contact, just as it is the nature of a the Service of Her Majesty Queen Anne. spaniel to caress every visitor. But her love, Written by himself. London: 1853. being founded on propinquity, not on judg 4. The English Humorists of the Eighteenth ment, is, like that of the spaniel, indiscrimi Century; a Series of Lectures. By WIL-nating. She likes best those whom she has LIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY. Lon-known longest,― her father, her mother, her husband, and her son, and simply, as far as can be ascertained from their characters, beWE had intended to review the whole of cause she has known them longest; for in Mr. Thackeray's writings; but when we came themselves the first three are among the most to examine the twelve volumes which have unlovable specimens of this rich collection of been poured forth from the New York Press, deformities. The father is an ignorant, vuland considered that they were only the fore-gar stock-broker, coarse and insolent in prosrunners of the three great novels which we perity, and utterly beaten down by adversity. have placed at the head of this Article, we felt that, if we attempted to criticise all, we must treat each superficially. We have resolved, therefore, to confine ourselves to the works on which Mr. Thackeray's fame really rests, and to leave Fitz-Boodle, and Barry Lyndon, and Men's Wives, and the Snobs, and the Yellow Plush Papers, and the Prize Novelists, and Mr. Brown's Letters, and Mr. Titmarsh's Travels, under the anonymous or pseudonymous veils in which their author thought fit to envelop them. We shall begin, therefore, with Vanity Fair.

There are few passages in the work more highly finished than the interview between Sedley after his bankruptcy and his old protégé Captain Dobbin :

"I am very glad to see you. Captain Dobbin, Sir," said he, after a skulking look or two at his visitor. "How is the worthy alderman, and my round at the waiter as he said, "my lady," as lady, your excellent mother, Sir?" He looked much as to say, Hark ye, John, I have friends still, and persons of rank and reputation too. "My wife will be very happy to see her ladyship. Sir, and beg my respectful compliments to him. I've a very kind letter here from your father, Lady D will find us in rather a smaller house than we were accustomed to receive our friends in; but it's snug, and the change of air does good to my daughter, who was suffering in town rather-you remember little Emmy, Sir? Yes, suffering a good deal." The old gentleman's thinking of something else, as he sat thrumming eyes were wandering as he spoke, and he was on his papers and fumbling at the worn red tape.

We cannot tell what Mr. Thackeray's genius and diligence may still have in store for us; but of their numerous products up to the present time, Vanity Fair appears to us by far the best, the fullest of natural and amusing incident, and of characters with bold and firm outlines, and fine and consistent details. It is called "A Novel without a Hero;" and certainly, if a hero or a heroine be a person fitted to attract the affection or to rouse the admiration of the reader, if he or she is to be reverenced or to you, Bill Dobbin, could any man ever have spec"You're a military man," he went on; "I ask be adored, there is none such in Vanity Fair. ulated upon the return of that Corsican scounThere are, however, two marked figures which drel from Elba? When the allied sovereigns so far act the part of heroines as to be the were here last year, and we gave 'em that dinner props on which the whole tissue of the nar- in the city, Sir, and we saw the Temple of Conrative is suspended, the centres which give to in St. James's Park, could any sensible man supcord, and the fireworks, and the Chinese bridge the plot the amount of unity which it pos- pose that peace was n't really concluded, after sesses. These, of course, are Amelia and we'd actually sung Te Deum for it, Sir? I ask Beckey. Their outward circumstances have you, William, could I suppose that the Emperor much similarity. Each is born in middle life: of Austria was a damned traitor they are educated at the same school; each nothing more? I don't mince words a traitor, and marries, and, at the same time, a military man; ble-faced infernal traitor and schemer, who -a doueach loses her husband, though not by similar meant to have his son-in-law back all along! causes, and is left with a single boy; each And I say that the escape of Boney from Elba struggles with poverty; and each withdraws was a damned imposition and plot, Šir, in which at the end of the story in affluence. An or bring the funds down, and to ruin this country. half the powers of Europe were concerned, to, dinary writer would have found it difficult to That's why I'm here, William. That's why keep distinct characters so similar in their my name's in the Gazette. Why, Sir?-befortunes. In Mr. Thackeray's hands there cause I trusted the Emperor of Russia and the the resemblance ends. In every other respect Prince Regent. Look here. Look at my papers.

Look what the funds were on the 1st of March, him from his engagement. He tries on his what the French fives were when I bought for new uniform, and thinks it becomes him much; the account, - and what they're at now. There weeps over the trinkets and hair locket which was collusion, Sir, or that villain never would have she sends back to him; and tells Dobbin, with escaped. Where was the English Commissioner some despondency, that "all is over between who allowed him to get away? He ought to be them." shot, Sir, brought to a court-martial, and shot, by Jove."

"We're going to hunt Boney out, Sir," Dobbin said, rather alarmed at the fury of the old man, the veins of whose forehead began to swell, and who sate drumming his papers with his clenched fist. "We are going to hunt him out, Sir, the Duke's in Belgium already, and we expect marching orders every day."

Dobbin, however, disapproves of his friend's easy acquiescence, carries him back to his betrothed, and never leaves him until the knot has been tied, and the new couple are on their road to Brighton.

One of the most powerful portraits in the work is that of old Osborne, George's father. If it have a defect, it is that it is too uniformly "Give him no quarter. Bring back the villain's black. It is made up of arrogance, vanity, head, Sir. Shoot the coward down, Sir," Sed- malignity, vindictiveness, ingratitude; in short, ley roared. "I'd enlist myself, by ; but I'm a broken old man-ruined by that damned of all the bad passions and bad tendencies scoundreland by a parcel of swindling thieves that are capable of coexistence. Of course in this country whom I made, Sir, and who are he disapproves of the match, and notifies to rolling in their carriages now." (Pages 173, 174.)

Mr. Sedley is merely contemptible. His wife is equally contemptible, but, having a stronger will, is also odious. Mr. Thackeray has delightfully sketched her whole character in the scene in which she quarrels with Amelia for exclaiming that her child shall not be poisoned with Daffy's Elixir.

Mr. Thackeray adds:

George that he has nothing to expect, except what he cannot be deprived of, a couple of thousand pounds, his share of his mother's fortune.

These are the comments of the bridegroom in the first week of his honeymoon :—

bin.

"A pretty way you have managed the affair," said George, looking savagely at William Dob"Look there, Dobbin," and he flung over to the latter his parent's letter. "A beggar, by Till the termination of her natural life, this Jove, and all in consequence of my d-d senbreach between Mrs. Sedley and her daughter timentality. Why could n't we have waited? A was never thoroughly mended. The quarrel ball might have done for me in the course of the gave the elder lady numberless advantages, which war, and may still, and how will Emmy be betshe did not fail to turn to account with female tered by being left a beggar's widow? It was all ingenuity and perseverance. For instance, she your doing. You were never easy until you had scarcely spoke to Amelia for many weeks after- got me married and ruined. What the deuce am wards. She warned the domestics not to touch I to do with two thousand pounds? Such a sum the child, as Mrs. Osborne might be offended. won't last two years. I've lost a hundred and She asked her daughter to see and satisfy her- forty to Crawley at cards and billiards since I've self that there was no poison prepared in the lit-been down here. A pretty manager of a man's the daily messes that were concocted for Georgy. matters you are, forsooth. Do you suppose a When neighbors asked after the boy's health, she man of my habits can live on his pay and a referred them pointedly to Mrs. Osborne. She hundred a year? How the deuce am I to keep never ventured to ask whether the baby was well up my position in the world upon such a pitiful or not. She would not touch the child, although pittance? I can't change my habits. I must he was her grandson, and own precious darling, have my comforts. I was n't brought up on porfor she was not used to children, and might kill ridge like Mac Whirter, or on potatoes like old it." (p. 345.) O'Dowd. Do you expect my wife to take in soldiers' washing, or ride after the regiment in a baggage waggon?" (P. 211.)

The person, however, who holds the first place in Amelia's heart is George Osborne, her husband. Mr. Thackeray has painted The regiment is ordered abroad, and the him at full length, with relentless truth and scene changes to Brussels. George neglects detail. He is first introduced to us as a young his bride, wastes in a few weeks the little lieutenant, the accepted lover of Amelia, fond capital which was to have been her only supof her person, and pleased by her admiration, port, tries to seduce her friend, hurries from but ashamed of her family, and very much the Duchess of Richmond's celebrated ball to inclined to think that he is throwing himself Quatre Bras, and dies at Waterloo. away - that with his beauty and talents and The amiable ridiculous character in the expectations (his father is great in the tallow drama is Dobbin; and one of his absurdities trade), he might aspire to something higher is, that at first sight, and knowing that she is than a stock-broker's daughter. Then come engaged to his friend George, he falls in love three events simultaneously. He gets his with Amelia. Year after year, during her company, Amelia is ruined, and she releases widowhood, he urges his suit—but in vain.