JACK SHEPPARD.

IN this fiction of Mr. Amswoms, the leading events of his hero's life, in robbery and prison-breaking, are pretty closely followed

and the general character of the period, in its flash-houses, thieves, gaolers, and receptacles for misery and vice, is depicted with power and apparent truth. The topography of London, and what we May suppose to be the manners of the middle classes, are also de-

scribed with sufficient vraisemblance ; though one of the exceptions —a woollen-draper wearing a sword in his shop—is of the grossest. The romance by which JACK SHEPPARD'S actual adventures are woven into a continuous story, and an interest attempted to be

treated in his fortunes by connecting other and better persons with his fate, is also managed with considerable skill, if we could look at a fiction as a piece of mechanism, where it was sufficient if the parts dovetailed into each other and produced the ends for which they were constructed. Tested, however, by the general probabilities of life, or the character of the times, the story of Jack Sheppard is hardly possible, much less natural.

Like Mr. AmswoitTn's preceding fictions, there is great compli- cation in the groundwork of his tale ; whence, perhaps, his impro- babilities. For this reason, it is difficult briefly to convey any no- tion of it : but it may be mentioned that Jack` Sheppard is turned into a contingent heir to a baronetcy and a large estate, his mother haying been stolen in childhood by gipsies. The elder sister of Mrs. Sheppard has privately married a French nobleman, who, for no suffi- cient reason, conceals his name ; her brother, as,she stands between him and an estate, affects to fancy her seduced, and pursues both her and her husband to the death. The novel opens with the chase of these parties into the Mint of Southwark, then a privileged place ; where, after a due alternation of danger and escapes, the husband is drowned, in the great storm of 1703. Ills inflint son, called Thames Darrell, is saved by Mr. Wood, a carpenter ; who had been the master of Jack Sheppard's hither, and brings up both the cousins, though their consanguinity is unknown to any save Jonathan Wild. From their apprenticeship the action of the piece begins. Jona- than seduces Jack into crime • opens a communication with the uncle, Sir Rowland Trenebard, to destroy Thames Darrell, for a large consideration; having fleeced, he eventually murders Sir Row- land; determines to hang Jack, to murder Thames, who had mira- culously escaped his first attempts, and then to marry Mrs. Sheppard and claim the Trenchard estates in right of his wife. Of course this comprehensive scheme is baffled, mainly by the exertions of Jack ; but at the expense of the lives of all concerned, except Thames Darrell and Jonathan.

compared with Rookwood, the plot, the characters, and the con- duct of this story exhibit a considerable improvement ; the crimes of Jonathan Wild, and the murders and mysteries of his "house in the Old Bailey,' are sober when placed in juxtaposition with the vault and gipsy scenes- of Mr. AINSWORTH'S first romance, or with the character of Lady Rookwood and the entanglements of the tale. Jack Sheppard, however, wants the excitement in the ro- mantic part of the story which Rookwood possessed, and the anima- tion of its Turpin scenes. Though the period of one romance is somewhat earlier than that of the other, yet the scene of Rookwood being laid in a remote district, where superstitions and prophecies were rife, its monstrosities seemed more akin to the place, than do the somewhat similar incidents in London amongst publicans, thieves, thief-takers, and tradesmen. And, however treated, the exploits of a housebreaker are essentially prosaic compared with those of a highwayman. The "gentleman of the road" was a high caste thief—the last remains of the old outlaw—the bandit of Eng- land. Some of the earlier highwaymen, by their previous con- dition, and their bearing, threw a sort of halo round what Fal- staff calls their "vocation." A highwayman, too, was a gallant man ; he met his opponent face to face, always risking his own life, and frequently daring considerable odds.. There were the elements of poetry about his pursuit, if not in it,—danger ; courage ; the steed he bestrode; the country he passed through, whether lighted up by the moon or veiled in fog or shadow ; his magnanimity when the fight was done ; his courteous behaviour to the fair ; his consi- deration for keepsakes and funny jewels. But there is nothing poetical in a flash-house or a "burglarious entry." In Ruokwood, moreover, the adventures of Turpin were mainly episodical—the fortunes of other persons formed the romance of the tale. In the work before us, Jack Sheppard and Jonathan Wild together are the heroes and Del ex machina ; Thames Darrell is little more than an instrument in the hands of one or the other, doing nothing for him-

self. Mr. Kneebone, the Jacobite woollen-draper, is not a bad per- sonification of the bachelor tradesman of an earlier time ; but he has no direct connexion with the plot, and is too sensual and common- place to inspire any care. Mr. Wood the carpenter, and his daughter Winifred, are drawn with very great nicety; especially Wood, whose humanity preserves his usurious submission from contempt, and who is not put prominently enough forward to become a bore. But their characters, and the equality of their fortunes, cannot create much of hope or fear. The "moving accidents" are all centered in Jack and Jonathan,—worthies about whose fate we may feel the enriositu attendant upon the future, but not any thing of the nature of interest.

The work throughout displays that thorough possession of the subjects handled, which indicates a mind saturated- with the "Lives

-of the Highwaymen," and analogous reading : as in Rookwood, Mr. AINSWORTH'S thieves are really thieves, and not gentlemen in mas- querade. Flash language, however, is much more sparingly_ used; and though some of the scenes are of necessity low, there is nothing spirit of any portionsof the .work. Here is one sungby Mr. Blue. skiu, whilst he is making unwelcome love to Mrs. Sheppard, at he refuge in the Southwark Mint.

Where S. Giles's Church stands, once a lazar-house 304; And, chained to its gates, was a vessel of wood;

A broad-bottom'd bowl, from which all the fine fellows Who-pass'd by that spot, on the way to the gallows,

Might tipple strong beer, • Their spirits to cheer, ' And drown in a sea of good liquor all fear ! For nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles • So well as a draught from the Bowl of St. Giks !

By many a highwayman many a draught Of nutty-brown ale at St. Giles's was quaft ; Until the old lazar-house chanced to fall down, And the broad-bottom'd bowl was removed to the Crown, "Where the robber may cheer Ills spirit with beer, And drown in a sea of' good liquor all fear I For nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles So well as a draught from this Bowl of St. Giles; There Mulsack and Swiltheek, both prigs from their birth,

old Mob and Tom Cox, took their last -draught on earth;

There Randal, and Shorter, and Whitney pulled up, And jolly Jack Joyce drank his finishing cup For a can of ale calms A highwayman's qualms, And makes him sing blithely his dolorous psalms !

And nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles

So well as a draught from the Bowl of St, Gilee!

TIIE FRIEND OF TI1E POOR.

" Gin Lane's the nearest road to the churchyard."

" It mav be; but if it shortens the distance and lightens the journey, I care not," retorted the widow, who seemed by this reproach to be roused into sudden eloquence. " To those who, like me, have never been able to set out of the dark and dreary paths of life, the grave is indeed a refuge, and the sooner they reacts it the better. The spirit 1 drink may be poisons ; it ma's kill me, perhaps it is killing use ; but so would hunger, cold, misery—so wodd my own thoughts. I should have gone mad without it. Gin is the poor man's friend, his sole set-off against the rich man's luxury. It comforts hha Ivlien he is most forlorn. It may be treacherous, it may lay up a store of future wo ; but it insures present happiness, and that is sufficient, When I have traversed the streets a honseless wanderer, driven with curses hum every door where I have solicited alias, and with blows from every gateway where I have sought shelter ; when I have crept into some deserted building, and stretched my wearied limbs upon a bulk, in the vain hope of repose ; or, worse than all, when, frenzied with want, I have yielded to horrible temptation, and earned a meal in the only way I could earn one ; when I have felt, at times like these, my heart sink within me, I have drunk of this drink, and I have at once for- gotten may cares, my poverty, my guilt. Old thoughts, old feelings, old faces, and old scenes .have returne(l to me, and I have fancied myself happy— as happy as I am now." And she burst into a wild hysterical laugh.

One feature of Jack Sheppard is a description of contempora- neous circumstances, and of London at the period. A feature of the author is a literal materiality of description, to which he strives to give force by high-sounding epithets or exaggerated images. Both are combined in this sketch of the storm in which Thames Darrell's father was drowned.

THE GREAT STORM OF LONDON, 1703.

During the foregoing occurrences a dead calm prevailed. But as Rowland sprang to the helm, and gave the signal for pursuit, a roar, like a volley of ordnance, was heard aloft, and the wind again burst its bondage. A moment before, the surface of the stream was blade as ink. It was now whitening, hissing, and seething like an enormous cauldron. The blast once more swept over the agitated river ; whirled off the sheets of foam, scattered them far and wide in rain-drops, and left the raging torrent blacker than before. The gale had become a hurricane : that hurricane was the most terrible that ever laid waste our city. Destruction everywhere marked its course. Steeples top- pled and towers reeled beneath its fury. Trees were torn up by the roots; many houses were levelled to the grouts('; others were unroofed; the leads on the Lurches were ripped off, and " shrivelled up like scrolls of parchment." ;Nothing on land or water was spared by the remorseless gale. Most of the vessels lying in the river were driven from their moorings, dashed tumid- tuously against each other, or blown ashore. All was darkness, horror, con- fusion, rum. Men fled from their tottering habitations, and returned to them scared by greater dangers. The end of the world seemed at hand.

At thus time of universal havoc and despair—when all London quaked at the voice of the storm—the carpenter, who was exposed to its utmost fury, fared better than might have been anticipated. The boat inn which Ise rode was not overset. Fortunately, her course had been shifted immediately after i

the rescue of the child ; and, n consequence of this movement, she received the first shock of the hurricane, which blew from the south-west, upon her stern. Her head dipped deeply into the current, and she narrowly escaped being swamped. lighting, however, instantly afterwards, she scudded with the greatest rapidity over the boiling wares, to whose mercy she was now entirely abandoned. On this fresh outburst or the storm, Wood threw himself instinc- tively- into the bottom of the boat, and clasping the little orphan to Lis breast, endeavoured to prepare himself to meet his fiste. While he was thus occupied, be fat a rough grasp upon his arm, and pre- sently afterwards Ben's lips approached close to Isis ear. The watermaa sheltered his mouth with Ins hand while he spoke, or his voice would have been carried away by the violence of the blast. " It's all up, master," groaned Ben, "nothin' short of a merraele can save us. The boat's sure to run foul o' the bridge ; and if she 'scapes atavin' above, she'll be swamped to a sartainty below. There'll be a fall of above tn-elve foot o' water, and think o' that on a night as 'ad blow a whole fleet to the OLD LONDON BRIDGE.

London, at the period of this history, boasted only a single bridge. But that bridge was snore remarkable than any the metropolis now 1105505500. Covered with houses from one end to the other, this reverend and picturesque structure presented the appearance of a street across the Thames. It was as if Gracechurch Street, with all its shops, its magazines, and ceaseless throng of passengers, were stretched from the Middlesex to the Surry shore. The houses were older, the shops gloomier, and the thoroughfare narrower, it is true ; but the bustle, the crowd, the street-like air was the same. Then the bridge had arched gateways, bristling with spikes, and garnished (as all ancient gateways ought to be) with the heads of traitors. In olden days it boasted a chapel, s. offensive to propriety, or with the slightest tendency to corrupt, The numerous snatches of robber soress perhaps display the iss4 dedicated to St. Thomas; beneath which there was a crypt curiously cons structed amid the arches, where "was sepultured Peter the Chaplain of Cole- Chinch, who began the Stone Bridge at London ;" and it still boasted an edi- ses (though now in rather a tumble-down condition) which had once vied with a palace—we mean Nonesuch House. The other buildings stood close to- gether in rows; and so valuable was every inch of room accounted, that, in manly cases, cellars, and even habitable apartments, were constructed in the solid masonry of the piers. Old Landon Bridge (the granduire of the present erection) WAS supported on nineteen arches, each of which " Would a Rialto make for depth and height."

The arches stood upon enormous piers; the piers on starlings, or jetties, built far out into the river to break the force of the tide.

In the complete work, as in the successive numbers of Bentley's Miscellany, where it originated, the illustrative etchings of CRVIK- gum, form no small part of the attraction. They realize the characteristics of the book to the eye; the artist and the author arc both at home in the subject. The fancy of GEORGE CRUIK- .511ANK requires the stimulus of fitct : his picturesque feeling is of the literal kind, and does not go deeper than the surface ; but what is visible he fixes with lively truth. The personal peculiarities of the two leading characters, Jack Sheppard and Jonathan Wild, are delineated with such vividness, that it requires a more attentive consideration than people generally bestow on pictures to detect any inconsistencies of character in the physiognomy. In depicting Effects, such as the stormy night on the river, the daylight in a room, and the freshness of morning in a landscape, his etchings have almost the force of painting : the same remark applies to the groups of figures, which tell the story at arm's length. The little pictures, crowded three or four into a plate in the third volume, of Jack breaking prison, and the procession to the gallows, show the artist's power of indicating local appearances with distinctness: the small scale rather increases than diminishes their effect of reality, for the external characteristics are concentrated into a little space, so that the absence of finer qualities is not perceived.