The Sun. — London, England, 1829-09-22 00:00:00

SPORTING INTELLIGENCE. TATTERSALL'S. The town settling for the St. Leger took place yester ,7% and was tolerably quiet ; money, however, did not m ttelate freely, many be ivy accounts remaining unsettled !the close of the Rooms ; four or five did not corns at „ . 14 1 and t wo or t h ree ot h ers , w h o did come , did not pay. 4 the absentees, the principal is a Mr. L" *d, who was ii erely a co mmerc i a l t rave ll er , an d who has contrived to Ztd them t o th e t une o f a b ou t 5,000/. ;—he is looked Pon as quite hopeless; he was very little known at Tat -lair% nor are the other Levanters of any note in the F or tin world. Forth has sold Bud to Lord Cleveland Le t 2,000 gui neas ; an d h e i s now f avour it e f or th e St. ger. I t may seem strange that a b eaten hors, should nand 93 high ; but it should be recollected that he was tiZionlgueaht this and his knocked about in li t t he u f n a u ls i e u, st f a u r r ts, th a e n c d i t ta h m at, Nue Stakes, he may be fairly booked as the best 2-yr-old Stthe North. I3runswicker is a good favourite for this kes, it being notorious that he was not exactly right nen he ran for the Champagne Stakes. It is intended , 10 start hi m for the Derby. St. Ni c h o l as, w h o ran secon d to Lady Mo w b ray , h as a s t ro ngish party, and some good l u tliC_es predi c t th a t h e w ill t a k e a prominent station in the L' u '• We sho u ld a dd, however, that the running of the y.r-olds at Doncaster was altogether so contradictory, Am more than ordinary circumspection is required in Zrneneing th e St. L ege r hooks. We should also state t the St. Leger betting is now considered to be " named 51 ' not named." The following is all we can give at pre lent in the shape of odds:— _ ___ DERRY, ISSO. 7 to 1 agst Sir Mark Wood's The Mummer. ST. LEGER. 9 to 1 agst 14,rd Cleveland's Bud 19 to 1 agst Mr. Petre's Brunswickfr 14 to 1 agst Mr. Richardson's St. Nicholas. BThe other favourit ta f or t hi s S ta k e . ; will be Lady Mow- UY, Laura, and R eg i na ld. Th e mare is not far from R od but the o dd s are not d e fi n i te enoug h f or quo t a ti on . was originally bought out of Lord Lowther's stable for tornething under 100/. BASINGSTOKE RACES. P IIIDAY, SErr. 18.—The HAckwood Stakes of five Boys. each, with 40 added, fur all ages. Heats, once round and a distance. Itr. Pearce's Guilford, by Hampden, 3 yrs 1 1 kir. Lefeyre named b. c. by Rubens, 4 yrs 3 2 Lord Boboa named The Palfrey, 6 yrs 4r. Beechey's His Highness, 4 yrs tlr. Scott's Souter Johnny, 4 yrs k Handicap Stakes of one soy. each, made up 50 sous. by the Town. Heats, once round and a distance. blr. B ou l t ' s Benefit, 3 yrs x Ir. C ane ' s b. f. by Whalebone, 4 yrs ti r ' -- —'s Smuggler, 6 yrs 3 4 dr FASHIONABLE INTELLIGENCE. CHANGES. The Princess Augusta, yesterday, at her seat, Frogmore Lodge, 'Joni the Duke of Clarence's, Bushy-park ; the Earl and Conn sa S Pencer, at their scat, Althorpe, Northamptonshire, from 1 7ffordshire ; the Earl of Stamford and Warrington, from En i! le Halt, in Staffordshire, for Dunham Hall, Cheshire; Earl at Wentworth Rotherham, from a tour; the Count Moutrond (nephew to the Prince of Benevento), in Albemarle_ fir, from Doncaster; Mr. Thomas Hope, in Duchess-street, I ;_ °nl a tour; C a pt a in Latour and the Baron Litchenstein, in rer.stre e t, f rom B er li n ; D r . T a yl eur , f rom W orces t er, i n Su rrey -stre e t ; the Hon. William Lambton, from Burlington reet, for Brighton ; Major and Mrs. Peel, for ltamsgate ; the t • "Francis „". ancis Annesley for Eydon Lodge, near Banbury ; Lieut.- Colonel Elliott, from Rochester, for Paris; Mrs. and Miss • - ne from Brighton, for Bath; Mr. and Mrs. Angerstein Cor thel • h r seat in Norfolk; Captain and Mrs. Douglas, from Man f„ester, for Bath Captain Drummond for Ramsgate ; Captain ,°nside and Major Frederic Sayers, in Waterloo-place, from litbraltar ; Mr. Hely Hutchinson on a tour; Mr. Niel Malcolm, Z°2ll his seat in 'h° , ll - Kent, for Dunstroon Castle, in Argyleshire S able George Compton for Jecino, in the Canton of Gene,hwitzerland ; Major and Mrs. Dalton, from Dublin, for Chelten- Zb ; Mrs. G enera l S m i t h , f rom K n i g ht s b r id g e, f or th e C a stle, B ti n ; Captain and Mrs. St. Ledger, in Wellington-crescent, s gate, from Paris ; Captain L'Estrange, from Hounslow, for ghton; the Bishop of Salisbury, at Warren's Hotel, Regent stre , et, from th e P a l ace , Salisbury; S:r Davidge and Lady Gould, a 4 the Brunswick Hotel, Jerrnyn-street, from a tour; Sir Wm. and Lady Jane Houston, at their seat, Avesford, Sussex, from a wUr.- Th e Princess AUGUSTA took her leave yes terday morning of the Duke and Duchess of CLARENCE, With Whom her Royal Ilighne,s had been staying on a visit at their residence in Bushy Park, and returned to I"r nenore L o d ge . The Duke and Duchess Of CUMBERLAND to o k an airing yesterday, in an open carriage, to Kew. Th e Earl of ABERDEEN and the CHANCEL tiIk of the EtCHEQUEII visited the Duke of WELLINGTON Yesterday, at the Treasury. The Prussian Minister, the Spanish 'Moister, ana COMA MATUCEWITZ had interviews with the Earl of il aanarN yesterday, at the Foreign Office. n Sir HOWAR D D O U G LA S (th e Lieutenant 'iarernor of New Brunswick), transacted business yester -14, at the Foreign Office. One of the Secretaries to the Embassy at iserlin- arrived in town on Sunday night from that capital vrith despatches from Sir ROBERT GonuoN, our Alphas lour at Constantinople. The Duke of WELLINGTON having resolved to make Walmer Castle an occasional residence, several Healthy individuals have been induced to enter upon it Plan for augment i ng th e qu i e t v ill age o f Widmer, by b uilding a number of houses of the first class, for the con teuienee of persons of fashion who may be inclined to re aide there during the summer season. Captain TAAFFE, of Cappacada, in the tl'unty of Roscommon, has a valet whose height, by the airest measurement, does not exceed 34 inches, and whose a ge la 24 y ears . His weight in full dress, with hat, spurs, and t "P-boots, is precisely two stone and ten pounds; and, to add to the singularity of his appearance, be can boast of Perfect symmetry of form. We are truly sorry to announce the demise of Sir w d . Artstmter, Bart., who died suddenly on Fri. - "Y. About two p.m. he entered the Trustees' Office, ;PParently in his usual health, and immediately went into STUART'S t i C. apartment, where he remained for a short .and then proceeded to his own. He bad not been : la ny minut es th ere w h en h e wa s sudd en ly struck with PleaY and fell from his seat on the floor. Dr. THOM.. Was immediately sent for, and on his arrival bled the patient, but without any visible effect — for, after lingering r about an hour and a half in a state of insensibility, he etPired.— Caledonian Mercury. t A Company is ccming out, under the au jiees of Lord CLIVE and Sir Wm. KYNASTON, to form function Canal between London and Birmingham, which wil embrace a very populous trading district. It will : 4 . 41 the country throujb Coventry. The landed pro .Vetors and can a l directors are anxious to have it imme h lue lY carried into effect, as it will facilitate the convey te "f goods in that great trading country. Mr. TELFORD, Il e e minent eng i neer , has proposed the plan. It will not rot ee ed 20 m il es i n l eng th, an d i s , th e r e f ore , e xp e cted to ha..44.t b ut little, and it will employ many of the unemployed until business improves." kiss Q ;,,, --S QTEPIIENS has been in Paris for some rue, accompanied by her brother and sister ; she is shortly meted 7 t o re t urn . It i s n o t t r u e , th a t s h e i s a t present • engaged by Mr. PRICE for Druty-lane Theatre, neier is C A ' BEA HAM actually engaged ; hut we learn there th is an ,„ 11 ‘ le rstanding between him and the Manager that be shall - lea!' after Christmas. • Yest4dy the Duke of BEDFORD sent a do hAtio •• • n of 2001. towards oeifayu;g the expellees of opening ,„, )v ,tnt-garden theatre. It is said that the theatre will iti " l Y open on the sth of October. I Th e younger GRIMALDI is engage d b y t h e ti qkee at Dru r y -l ane , an d w ill make his fost appearance in • 'e Pantomime, which has been in preparation all the VTer, at Ch r i s t mas ; an d i n a id of which the pencil of 441.41- 41-P. i 3 4 ;01 employment. PROVINCIAL THEATRICALS.---LIVER "001---1lladanae MALIBRAN GARCIA sang at the theatre Saturday, the 12th, and attracted an overflowing 44 dience. S everal of the crack London per f ortners h ave Pe ep delighti ng t h e goo d people of Li verpoo l f or some ti me . Among the greatest favourites are Miss Fonn, BRAIIAM, 4 , 1 13 E13E0RD, GREEN, MEADOWS, BhOWN, HARLEY, I ti ' Le BLANCH.% RD. Miss SMITHSON is at Manchester ; : v hi me Vxsrais at L e amington, f r om wh e nce she goes to i en trY, Manchester, Scarborough, Richmond, and Shell. A.llBl FOOTE has been playing at Cambridge. ki 4 ltort is at Tunbridge Wells, and goes next week to Bir lititgliam, %there MEADOWS, HARLEY, Miss LACEY, and th t i ° J aatuari, are engaged for a few nights, previously, to t r eturn to the London boards. LITERATURE. FAIIILX LIBRARY. HISTORY OF THE Jiws, VOL. IL-LONDON. W 9. The present volume of this varied and in structive history is worthy the well-known ta lents of the author of the " Fall ofJerusalem." It displays great research, and frequently upon points which have hitherto been little understood, or appreciated, such, for instance, us the do mestic history and political qualities of Herod. King of Judea, a Statesman and warrior of whom, though his name has passed into a pro verb, comparatively little is known : his suc cessful intrigues ; first with Antony, secondly with Augustus, and, above all, the temper and quality of his connexion with the celebrated but ill-starred Asmonean Princess, Mariamne. Few histories are more entertaining, more dignified, or more fraught with materials for instruction than the Jewish, and by none could greater jus tice have been done to it than by Mr. Millman, The style of this gentleman is elegant but vi gorous, and flows on in a rapid, easy current, so much so, that his present history may be perused with advantage, not only for the correctness and spirit of its details, but as a model of sound English composition, which is seldom or never the case with the popular miscellanies of the day. We subjoin a favourable specimen of the style : " Thus, abroad, success seemed to wait on all the de signs of Herod : the neighbouring kings might admire and envy the good fortune, or rather the consummate ability, with which he extricated himself from all his difficulties, and continued advancing in the career of pros perity and power; but at home the most miserable peasant might compassionate the wretchedness which filled his palace with dissension, crime, and bloodshed. The mag nificence of Ilerod'a public life is strangely contrasted with the dark tragedy of his domestic history. Mari amne bad again extorted the fatal charge entrusted to Soemus; and indignant at the jealous determination of her husband, that she should not survive him, she met him on his return with repulsive indifference, and even with undissembled dislike. Herod struggled between his love and his indignation ; till one (lay, instead of submitting to his caresses, in the height of her passion she reproached him, in terms of the utmost bitterness, with his barbarous conduct to her relations. The envious Salome watched every opportunity of inflaming the resentment of her brother; and suborned his cup-bearer to accuse Hari amne of having bribed him to administer a poisonous philtre, or love-potion, to his master. Herod commanded her favourite eunuch, to whom all her secrets were en tru.ted, to be put to the rack. The tortured man denied all knowledge of the poisen, but exclaimed, that the con duct of his mistress was entirely owing to the information she had received from Soemus. Furious at this new proof of her infidelity, he ordered Soemus to he dispatched at once, and summoned Alariamne before a Itibunal of judges, who were too much in dread of his power not to pass the sentence of death. Still Herod hesitated ; he had no immediate intention of proceeding further than im prisonment; but his mother and sister so worked on his moody and violent temper that he at length issued out the fatal orders for her execution. To the horror of the spectators, her mother Alexandria assailed the wretched Mariamne, as she went to death, with a violent invective against her ingratitude to so gentle and affectionate a hus band, loudly declaring that she deserved the fate she was about to suffer. The Queen passed on in silence with the dignity of conscious virtue ; though deeply wounded at this disgraceful and hypocritical conduct of her mother, who thus sought to avert the suspicions of Herod from herself, and to save her own life at the sacrifice of her daughter's honour, she would not condescend to betray her emotion. She met her death with tie calm intrepidity of innocence, and died worthy of the noble house of which the last blood flawed in her veins. She was a wetnan of unrivalled beauty and a haughty spirit : un happy in being the object of passionate attachment, which bordered on frenzy, to a man who had more or less concern in the murder of her grandfather, father, brother, and uncle, and who had twice commanded her death in case of his own. Strange conflict of duties! who shall decide, what ought to have been her feelings and her conduct? " All the passions, which filled the stormy mind of Herod, were alike without bound : from violent love, and violent resentment, he sank into as violent remorse and despair. Everywhere, by day and night, he was haunted by the image of the murdered Mariamne ; he called upon her name ; he perpetually burst into passionate tears. In vain he tried every diversiou,—banquets, revels, the ex citement of society. A sudden pestilence broke out, to which many of the noblest of his court and of his own personal friends fell a sacrifice; he recognised, and trembled beneath the hand of au avenging Deity." CONSTABLE'S MISCELLANY.—No. XLV. NATURAL HISTORY OF SELBORNE.--EDINBURGH, 1829. There are few more entertaining studies in the world than natural history, few of which the ten dency is more uniformly beneficial. Properly directed—and it is one of those particular pur suits which can scarcely take an improper direc tion—it improves and enlarges the mind, refines its sense of beauty, extends the range of its ideas, and by inducing it to dwell on, and minutely survey, the varied wonders of creation, familia rizes it with the matchless arrangement and har mony of its phenomena, and thereby gives to philosophical reflection additional reason for admiring the power, wisdom, and beneficence of him who, to adopt the sublime language of sacred writ, " holds the sea in the hollow of his hand, and fills worlds with the surpassing grandeur of his presence. Natural history is the finest of all possible remedies for a sceptical turn of mind. It leads to conviction and belief by the silent but expressive process of thought, and so truly is this the case, that we never vet heard of a man who made natural history his study for any length of time, who did not draw from that very pursuit his chief arguments for the belief of a superior Being. The well-known anecdote of the German metaphysician, who one day in a wood beheld by chance the skeleton of a dog, is an eminent instance in point. He took up the framework of the animal, he surveyed it in de tail, he examined its uses and its properties, and was so struck with its exquisite arrangement, that he became at once convinced that none but some superior intelligence of a nature incompre hensible to man, but who spoke to the reason in his works, could have composed so matchless a piece of mechanism. The work before us is the production of a man who argues and believes upon similar prin ciples. It is imbued with a strong devotional feeling, and is so simple in its style, so amiable in its turn of thought, so gentle and benign in its philosophy, that it cannot fail to afford general de light. Its simplicity, however, and this quality it shares in common with old Isaac Walton's Guide to Angling, is its chief recommendation. Like the Tottenham angler, Mr. Gilbert White is perpetually vaunting the picturesque beauties of his native village. The fields, the flowers, the cuckoo that sings in the woods, and the lark that makes vocal the shies of Selborne, each and all meet with marked attention in his pages, and are expatiated on as if they were so many dear friends whose praises he could never be tired of rehearsing. At times this simplicity is pushed to the most amusing degree—we will not say of absurdity, for that is an unkind phrase to use, but—of quaintness. The author talks in one place with a diverting air of seriousness, of " those vast mountains, the Epsom Downs in another, of the " rugged and gloomy scenery of the Glens," which glens consist of a cross road, seven feet deep, and overgrown with a few wild blackberries ; in a third, " of the Royal Forest of Wohner, which is seven miles in length by two and a half in breadth ;" in a fourth, of " those majestic mountains, the Sussex Downs ;" in a fifth, of " three considerable lakes" in his darling parish, each of which is of the size of an ordinary village pond; and in a variety of other places, " of those matchless scenic attractions in which Selborne is confessedly pre-eminent." It is this unique simplicity, this amusing and harm less grandiloquence, this perfect conviction on the part of the author, that no parish on earth equals his idolized Selborne, that forms the charm of his present volume. But another fea ture, scarcely less attractive, is the graphic power of his description. The fresh woodland air breathes, the stream sparkles, the fOrest leaves rustle in his pages ; every word almost is in itself a picture,—as for instance, where he talks of the " hungry lean sand of the forest," of the little golden-crowned wren, " that shadow of abird,"— and brings the image it would represent full and vigorous before the reader's eye. We give a spe cimen of this power, it is the opening account of the village of Selborne : " The parish of Selborne lies in the extreme eastern corner of the county of Hampshire, bordering on the county of Sussex, and not far from the county of Surrey: is about fifty miles south-west of London, in latitude 51, and near midway between the towns of Alton and Peters field. Being very large and extensive, it abuts on twelve parishes, two of which are in Sussex, viz., Trotton and Rogate. If you begin from the south and proceed west ward, the adjacent parishes arc Etnshot, Newton, Va lence, Faringdon, Harteley, Mantilla, • Gre.tt Wardleham, Kingsley, Hadleigh, Bramshot, Trotton, Rogate, Lysse, andGreatham. The soils of this district are almost. as various and diversified as the views and aspects. The high part to the south-west consists of a vast hill of chalk, rising 300 feet above the village ; and is divided into a sheep down, the high wood, and a long hanging wood called the Hanger. The covert of this eminence is alto gether beech, the most lovely of all forest trees, whether we consider its smooth rind or bark, its glossy foli,ge, or its graceful pendulous boughs. The down or sheep-walk, is a pleasing park-like spot, of about one mile by half that space, jutting out on the verge of the hill country. where it begins to break down into the Alai as, and commanding a very engaging view, being an assemblage of hill, dale, woodlands, heath, and water. The prospect is bounded to the south-east and east by the vast range of mountains called The Sussex Downs, by Guild-down near Guild ford, and by the Downs round Dorking, and nyegate in Surrey, to the north-east, which altogether, with the country beyond Alton, and Farnham, form a noble and cx• tensive outline. " At the foot of this bill, one stage or step from the uplands, lies the village, which consists of one single straggling street, three quarters of a mile in length, in a sheltered vale, and running parallel with the Hanger.— The houses are divided from the bill by a vein of stiff clay (good wheat land), yet stand on a rock of white stone, little in appearance removed from chalk, lint seems so far frogn being calcareous, that it endures extreme heat.— Yet that the freestone still preserves somewhat that is analogous to chalk, is plain from the beeches, which de scend so low as those rocks extend, and no farther, and thrive as well on them, where the ground is steep, as on the chalks. " The cart-way of the village divides, in a remarkable manner, two very incongruous soils. To the south-west is a rank clay, that requires the labour of years to render it mellow ; while the gardens to the north-east, and small enclosures behind, consist of a warm, forward, crumbling mould, called black maim, which seems highly saturated with vegetable and animal manure; and these may per haps have been the original site of the town, while the woods and coverts might extend down to the opposite bank. " At each end of the village, which runs from south eaSt to north-west, arises a small rivulet; that zit the north-west end frequently fails—hut the other is a fine perennial spring, little influenced by drought or wet sea sons, called Well-head. This breaks out of some high grounds adjoining to Nore-hill, a noble chalk promon tory, remarkable for sending forth two streams into two different seas. The one to the south becomes a branch of the Arun, running to Arundel, and so falling into the British Channel ; the other to the north. The Selborne stream makes one branch of the Wey—and, meeting the Black-down stream at ifedleigh, and the Al ton and Farnham stream at Tilford-bridge, swells into a considerable river, navigable at Godalming ; from whence it passes to Guildford, and so into the Thames at Way bridge ; and thus at the Nore into the German Ocean." The historian of this secluded village was a clergyman of the Church of England, who was born at Selborne in the year 1720, and after taking his degree at Oxford, " fixed his residence in his native parish, where he spent the greater part of his life in literary occupations, and es pecially in the study of nature." He died in 1793, respected and beloved by all who had the good fortune to know him. His disposition was naturally unambitious; he had no hankering after church preferment, no desire for splendour, no thirst for notoriety ; but glided noiselessly along the stream of time from youth to age, unruffled by any of those shifting gales which beset more adventurous navigators. Though he lived during periods of extraordinary public ex citement ; though he witnessed the rebellion of '45, and the American and French revolutions, they had not the slightest effect on his mind, which seems to have been impassive to all but the sylvan charms of Selborne. On this village he has accordingly conferred no fleeting popu ' larity ; he has registered its every glen, heath, meadow, oak, and streamlet, and commemorated the sweet music of its birds in a style of rustic simplicity that few English writers can equal. In addition to this he has had the rare merit of drawing forth and fixing the pastoral genius of Miss Mitford, whose sylvan sketches, sometimes even her very words, have been manifestly modelled on the " natural history of Selborne." CAIN, THE WANDERER; AND OTHER POEMS. LONDON, 1829. 'e noticed at more than our usual length, a few days since, the leading poem in this intelli gent collection, mentioning at the same time that we should take an early opportunity of re verting to the subject. This promise we shall here proceed to fulfil, moved thereto by our ad miration of the extraordinary spirit, eloquence, and impassioned character of the author's mind. To say, however, that he is decidedly original, would be to say of him what can be said but of few, if any of the poets of the present day. One thing, however, we may venture to observe, that the thoughts and images of others assume new forms, are instinct with new beauties, in his hands. Byron, for instance, is manifestly one of those master minds, to whose transceintant powers of thought and expression he has delighted to ley himself under obligation ; yet the imitation is of so generous, so poetic, so independent a charac ter, so perfectly free from servility, that it scarcely deserves the name of imiLtion. What, for in stance, can be more spirited, at the same time more just, than the. annexed definition of imagi nation ? The hint—which is there crude and unformed enough—is taken from " Childe I-la • road," but the filling up, clothing, and enriching with language and sentiment,is the author's own. He is speaking, we should premise, of man : " In thyself the cause is of the happiness, The imagivative faculty, that draws And moulds creation subject to its laws; That toakc,s itself the central, like the san Hueing and quickening all it looks upon; That sees eternity its ken surround ; That feels God throned i' the infinite around ; His visual Presence in the lightning path, And in the clouds his ministers of wrath, Or Lye ; and in the stars sphere music, and Visions come to him from the unknown land Of the Dead, and voices answer from the wood, And the Airs talk to him in solitude And thou bait shaped, or host, in thine own breast, A power to meet these separate, cr compressed Intensely upon each, or freed from thrall, A spirit, feeling, hearing, answering all!" In the same poem, " On Deity," our author has worked out an idea given him by Words worth, in that mildly thoughtful and philosophi cal poem, " The Banks of Wye," where he alludes to the different feelings with which he looked on nature in youth, and in more matured manhood, with very poetic effect : " Still let me buoy myself with dreams of Thee : Though like all others based on phantasy. I know thee not, I feel thee not; for those Thrillings with which my ardent being glows When struggling from its clay, are my own hopes, That sink again, as thought all vainly copes With the infinity that overpowers. And gone for ever are those happy hours, When faith was certainty to youth's quick ken; 0 how my spirit mounted to thee then ! I sought thee not amon , the haunts of men, My heart yearned towards b Nature, for I felt Intelligence between us, and love dwelt, That drew me to her as is drawn a child To its natural mother ! by the grey crag wild, In the solemn forest, by the rushing sea, I heard the sounds that spoke to me of thee ! 0 how my heart its full idolatry poured Then to the setting suns ! yea, half adore?, Forgetting them thy symbols—soul was full— All eye, all feeling of the beautiful ! That was my natural life, though false, a dream, But one most blessed ; we can not redeem The past, and regret were weak : our days roll on, And with them those wild impulses are gone; And time and grief and passion change us so, That even our very selves we should not know, But by sad memories; the nerves are dead That once thrilled feeling, and the glory shed, Haloing all objects with its light, is o'er; The imaginative eye awakes no more !" he chief fault of the poem " On Deity," from which the above are brief extracts, is its meta physical character. It is clouded with affected mystery, as if the author knew more than he chose to communicate, and this vague, indefinite aspect, gives it a very ungracious appearance. It is besides too ambitious, the gnat strives too openly to swallow the camel. Now, these are defects, and no slight ones ; the subjects of all poetry, like the language, should be simple ; whatever is harsh and crude and mysterious in conception must necessarily be the same in expression. " The Deity," notwithstanding it has many grand ideas, comes particularly under this head. Of the poem, however, on " The Naiad," we can speak in the most unqualified terms of praise. It is, in fact, an exquisitely poetic little gem, conceived and brought forth from the rapturous union of feeling with fancy. The idea itself is happy, full of classic beauty, and is no less worthily wrought out : " It was a vale most rich in shadow ; winding Like the bright stream which threaded it through trees Thick clustering, or at intervals revealing Through the dim vistas glimpses of bright haunts More lovely from their distance : shutting out All, save delicious airs which bore on wings Odours of hidden flowers. Sun and shade Stole over it by turns like changing dreams : Now brightening spots steeped in most living hues, Now throwing deeper softness over that Which lay before so witchingly in quiet ! Far off, remote on the horizon's verge, Rose the blue hills girding the azure sky, Leaving the vale in commune with its heaven. It was a spot such as the mind shapes forth When revelling in dreams of old romance; Or picturing those haunts of leafy shadow Wheee the daughters of the earth might slumber, when The angels left their heaven to kneel to them. This is the Naiad's haunt : and lo ! beside The root of that grey tree, o'ercanopying With its woven branch the stream, and veiling it In slumber and in coolness from the sun, She stands half leaning. eyeing the dark water." " She stood by the c - ,treine brink of that blue stream : The image of herself so standing was Reflected to the lightest hair escaped From the braid of her redundant tresses, parting Over her glossy shoulders, tangling down Her neck and bosom. She looked on the water, And saw her visible self returned : the same In hue and stature, and each rounded limb Swelling with breathing life—and yet a shadow ! The sky loooked in behind her, anti they were Alone together ! What were then her thoughts ? For her eye is'lighted up, and a faint smile Is on her parting lips : and then a shade Stole over them but slight, so slight, as scarce ' Perceptible. Perchance she saw and felt How beautiful she was ; that she stood there, The form all would resemble, the embodied ' Being all dream of, sighing to possess. , That consciousness gave light to her dark eye, . And the faint dimpling smile on her soft cheek ; And then, it may be, a shade of sadness, mindful Of all she bad heard of love, yet loving none: For she had seen none like herself :—a leaf Fell lightly down by her and startled away The halfformed rising sigh !" l The Naiad's half-formed consciousness of her beauty, which lit up her face with a smile, is no less archly than gracefully and naturally imagined, while the falling leaf that startled her, conveys a fine idea of the fairy fragility of the sylph, such as Ovid has painted her. We proceed:— " She looked around— But who e'er yet profaned that sanctuary ? She was there as atone as is the star In the solitudes of heaven ! To her hair She raised her slender fingers, and unloosing The silk knot, down it fell, even to her knees, In rich profusion, like the ripened tendrils Of the purple glowing vine. Then, bending graceful, She drew the golden sandal from her foot, And stept upon the green moss among flowers, As p:le and azure as their veins ! The zone She unclasped, and her white robes fell flora her, As lightly as the silver shading flakes From the front of the orbed moon ! And she stood there In all the unveiled majesty of beauty: A form shaped from the finest of earth's element, And breathing with a soul and life from heaven !" Oue more extract, and we must take our leave of the « Naiad ;" the author is speaking of woman and her power : " Our earliest dreams of beauty are from her, Their archetype : she is love's visible image, And when man kneels, 'tis not idolatry, For site is fairest purest symbol of Him Who made her and the world around in love, The source of all our gentler feelings whence They are drawn, that humanise us from the hrutes. The only prop (weak though she be) who stands Firmest in sickness, and sorrow, yea, in guilt, When man, and all have left us, even our God. But still she standeth by car conch like to The Angel of Charity, or Mercy's self! And smiles on, and doth close the dying eye, And dead —becomes our living monument." The sentiment conveyed in the .last line is exquisitely beautiful. " London at 11lidnight," is a stbinn expressive poem, full of lofty thoughts and natural images. Its only failing is, that here trki there time author has thro4 in a few of his Irftcaphyical s;:ectdations, ~vl.leh do any thi:tg but lireit:ie the graceS of Stiljcet. The follow ng war sung will speak for itself:— " Where, whin the freeman hail struck his last stroke, Anti the laud of his fathers is bow,-(1 to time yoke, Is the hist spot of refuge ...Acre cannot rlav ? On that field where lie conquered, his home is the &Nave! O tl en though the tyrant should build there his throne, And look round a chtspr, anti call it his own: Though the yokes of toitouph be heard on the air, He shall look on that grave and frel freedom is there !" Before taking leave, we cannot, highly as we value the strength, tendernes ,, , and richness of the author's imagination, allow ourselves to be blinded to his defects. Of two things then we would here warn him ; they are the quick sands on which many a fine mind (Coleridge's for inst•zace) has split. The first especially, is the most dangerous, as it is the most alluring ; we mean tl►e introduction of trite metaphysical theories which mar the progress of the poem, throw a coldness and conceit over is s beauties, and encumber and mystify its style. he se cond is a less hazardous defect certainly, but still unworthy of one who desires to assume high station as a poet ; it is a culpable affectation of negligence in the structure and mechanism of verse. in this defect, the author of " Cain," unfortunately for himself abounds ; he spins bad lines, and thinks he is imitating the free dashing ease of Dryden. , Now nothing can be more mistaken than this notion, and in his future poems we hope he will be prevailed on to correct it. FINE ARTS. We have just seen a few engravings of a new work, entitled " The Landscape Annual," which is splendidly bound in Morocco, is of a size larger than " The Keepsake," and altogether is on a scale of uncommon splendour, both as re gards the embellishments and the letter-press.— It will consist, we understand, of twenty-six line engravings, together with eighteen sheets of letter-press, embracing varieties of an amusing and select character. The literary department is under the superintendance of Mr. T. Roscoe, and the illustrations under that of Mr. C. Heath. From the specimens we have seen of the scenic engravings, which have been taken by Mr. Prout on the spot, we have no hesitation in pronouncing them of a very superior character. HAYMARKET TIIEATRE.—A new comedy in three acts, entitled Procrastination, or the late Mr. ll—, was brought out last night at this theatre. The plot turns chiefly on the inconveniences occasioned by a man who is always defending the moment of decision, and can never seasonably make up his mind to any thing, not even to marry the girl to whom he is attached. The piece, we understand, is adapted from the French by Mr. How Ann PAYNE, and was tolerably successful. On Tuesday, as the Plymouth Mail was ascending the bill at Pencalenick, within two miles of Truro, from the heavy state of the roads, occasioned by the almost continued fall of rain, and the weight of the car riage, the of of the leaders broke the pole, and they became separated from the coach, which the wheel horses were no longer able to manage, and it went over with a feat ful crash. The four out4de passengers, with the coachman—the guard was walking—were precipitated into the road, and were more or less bruised ; one of them, Mrs. AARON, of Truro, rather seriously, but fortunately no limbs were broken. The four inside passengers escaped unhurt, or neatly so.—Falmouth Packet. On Saturday morning the 01(1 Telegraph, I. Ramsgate coach, was overturned about two miles on this side of Sitting,bourne. The coachman (who has driven the coach for the last thirty years) was driving, at the time of the accident, at the rate of about seven miles an hour, when the horses suddenly took fright at a party of girl women in red cloaks, who were passing, and darted off at a most furious rate. The driver lost all command over them, and they had not proceeded far before they ran the coach upon the footpath, and it immediately turned over. There were at the time of the accident four inside and ten outside passengers. Among the latter were a lady and her two daughters, attended by a female servant. One of the young ladies was thrown under the coach, which falling upon her crushed her in so dreadful a manner as to cause her instant death. The other passengers escaped with only a few slight bruises : they acknowledged that no blame whatever was attributable to the coachman. The body of the unfortunate young lady was conveyed to a pubic-house in Key-street to await a coroner's inquest. A misconception has arisen with regard to Exchequer Bills, which we ate enabled satisfactorily to re move. It has been stved that heavy losses have accrued to those holders of Exchequer Bills who do not present them in sufficient time, according to the notice, and ob tain others in lieu of them, and who are obliged to take the amount in money, thereby losing the premium altt.ge ther. The fact is, that the Lords of the Treasury hare, in the present instance, deviated from their usual practice, by allowing the holders guilty of such neglect to have the opportunity of receiving Exchequer Bills, but not until the end of the new quarter ; so that the only loss to be sustained will he the interest on such Exchequer Bills for three months. We understand that a private communica tion to this effect has been made from the Exchequer Bill Office to a party in the City having a large amount at stake. The usual practice at the Exchequer Bill Office is, to allow the holders of Exchequer Bills only money, in stead of new Bills, should they not be presented iu time.— Morning Chronicle. DISGRACEFUL OUTRAGE UPON A MA CISTRATE.—On Saturday evening, about nine o'clock, a most disgraceful attack was made upon Mr. LAING, one of the Miigistrates of Hatton-garden. At the time above stated, Mr. LAING was passing through Lamb's Conduit street, when he was accosted by a man selling matches, and who had stationed himself in front of a grocer's shop, No. 7S. Mr. LAING, after having been addressed by the 111111, entered the grocer's shop, and inquired if a con stable could be procured, adding " it is not the first time this rascal has accosted me." No constable, however, being upon the spot, and the shopkeeper feeling reluctant to expose his property to a crowd who had assembled, Mr. LAING seized the mendicant by the collar, and drawing him into the shop, ordered the shopkeeper to detain him till he procured assistance from Hatton-garden. The shopkeeper, however, objected to detain the man, saving he had no authority so to do. Mr. LAING then said, " I sin a Ma gistrate—my name is LAING, and I desire you to detain the man till I procure further assistance." The shops keeper, however, declined to detain the man unbela, LAING remained, and at this moment a wateh - ;taan making his appearance, Mr. LAING ordered Lira to procure the assistance of some constable. Iluring this time the beggar had made repeated. applications to be allowed to depart, saying, " he its 1 only asked for a penny or two, to save himself from starvation ;" but his entreaties, livwevar, t w e re disregarded, and he was informed that Ice ribould be punished for his conduct. Tho man, bowevcr, fi n di ng th e feeling of the crowd in his favour, chang e d his t one , an i attempted to obtain his lil•e:ty by force. 1 - ila exertions were opposed by Mr. LAING, who kept him at bay with the point of his umbrella; hut the beggar endeavoured to close w ith hi s oNiownt, and the shopkeeper interfering, the three fell on the floor together. The crowd, who had manifested some impatience far the beggar to be liberated, here burst open the shop door, and s:weral rufliaros otiaeae , i the shop, and attacked Mr. LAING, whom tla,ay deprived of his hat, and assaulted his; in a ino . s; alaamoful manner. The cry set up by the oaaad Was ` 4 Bonnet him—bring him out." The c - _,pheelarr, however, succeeded in drag f..?jll; away from his esiailant , , and removed him to a r,:mit up stairs. To appease the :nob the beggar was set at liberty, and his re-appearance in the street WUS 11:1;,!“.1 With loud cheers. Shortly after a posse of conatalaka rived, and Mr. LAING way COllVeyed 1, its in a mac h . _ Search was yesterday made aft.:r the wendieuut 2 but he 1 could no 4.t. SPIRIT OF THE PUBLIC JOURNALS• Information reached Government on Sunday that the Russian Commander-in-Chief had con sented to an armistice with the Turks along the whole line of his operations, on - the 29th O.— The news, as will be seen by our city article, produced a favourable impression on the price of the public funds. It ought, however, to be recollected that the cessation of actual hosti lities, though gratifying as the first step towards the establishment of a final accommodation, is not necessarily productive of any pacific arrange ment. An armistice is not a peace ; and the asquiescence of the Russian General in a propo sition to delay his advance upon Constantinople till he has heard from St. Petersburg'', is no proof that the answer of Ids master will be favourable to the establishment, on the pro posed terms, of permanent tranquillity. The Allied Ambassadors, after consulting the mode rated temper of the Sultan, have again offered their mediation between the contendiug parties. Their guarantee could of course only extend to the disposition of the Porte to treat, and not to the particular stipulations of a definitive treaty, which a military commander could have no autho rity to conclude. But as the Sultan at the eleventh hour is brought to the confession of weakness, and has expressed.a desire for peace on reasonable terms, a hope may be entertained, from the moderation and prudence of the Res sian Government., that extravagant claims will not be advanced to mask the ulterior assertion of ambitious designs. It is said that the Turk ish Ambassadors arrived at Adrianople on the 27th ult., and the Russian General gave orders for the cessation of hostilities along his whole line on the 29th, The next arrivals must be extremely important.— Times. We have often heard it alleged, that the brewers have a direct interest in the House of Commons, which can " bring to the scratch" on any critical occasion between sixty and seventy votes ! Whether this calculation be numeri cally. correct, we know not; but it seems un doubted that some monstrous force must be at hand to overpower for many years, and in the face of national resentment and disgust, the men of landed property, whose produce is discouraged —the public, whose health and comforts arc im paired—and the Government itself, whose love of fair dealing towards the great body of the King's subjects must be grievously thwarted by that most odious of all monopolies which the b r ewers of the metropolis and elsewhere perpe tually exercise over the consumption of the ar ticle manufactured by them under the name of porter. There is no slave like the occupier of a public-house which has been licensed (and they are all so licensed) on the representation, os through the interest, of a brewer. No matter how abominable the trash with which he is com pelled to supply his customers, nor how loud their complaints of being poisoned by his bever age, instead of refreshed by it ; nor how in tense his anxiety to furnish them with more palatable and wholesome liquor—vend the per• nicious potion he must, or quit the premises, which he holds on no other tenure than that of serving out whatever vapid or leporous draught the brewer, who is at once his land lord, patron, wholesale merchant, and arbitrary tyrant, thinks fit, through the alehouse-keeper, to impose upon a helpless neighbourhood. power of selling beer ought, on the face of things, to be no more obstructed or restrained than that of selling potatoes. If the care of the public morals be adduced as an apology for such an encroachment on the first principles of com merce, why should such an enormous power as Ithat of granting or withholding the privilege, be placed in hands where it is, and ever has been, notoriously jobbed for selfish and rapacious pur poses ? If a guarantee for the observance of decency and propriety must be exacted, let it be • so precise,.and at the same time so general, that every man who wishes to embark in the business of a publican shall know distinctly what legal obligation he must satisfy before he can become one ; but do not leave it to a quorum of justices, prompted by a secret cabinet of brewers, to. re fuse licences on personal or incideHtal grounds, which affirm nothing adverse to the reputation of the applicant, or to the reasonableness of his petition, but sullenly rest upon the sic nolo of a brewer's partisan, waiting to receive his cue on behalf of some favoured dependent. The Jus tice may have even a more hateful motive for the abuse of a prerogative from which there lies no appeal. He may have feelings of pi irate animosity towards a respectable applicant, or of secret predilection for the most worthless. He may have premises of his own, whereof a license might increase the value twenty fold ; for though brewers in person cannot grant licences, there is nothing that we know of to prevent an indivi dual front canvassing his brother justices to join with him in setting up any tenant of his own to vend the beer of a friendly brewer, and thus to serve the interests ofd pair ofjobl i s ir er oo s af a tt t : vioc:e,,cilicce,y;',fhla on been l time for a justice of peace to interfere would he after s c o o t i t n ic m breach and acof recordedpeace o the or his statement of the fact to the sessions, the ma gistrates there assembled might resolve to con tinue or withdraw the licence of the publican whose premises had been the theatre of transgres sion ; but in no case ought any lower autho r ity than that of the sessions, ana after the verdict of a jury, be suffeied to deprive a man li v i ng lye merchandise of hia bread. On e r esu lt o f sele i t a t e gnsive c e a s i s ) t i o t a tt i l , :i a b n thed more 0 re i ie n r t i ro p a r 'Oattit(i)ti of nor re ex abl e enaracter, into the class of venders of malt Liquor by retail. That the number of publi . 'Amuses might be needlessly or thischievoile e '- y multiplied, without the restraint imposed by the arbitrary power of the m toivrate rabsurd a , i an apprehension. The superfluous number, like any other redundancy of sueVy in open market, would bring its own ttwe ; for the want of custom would soon com pel the unlucky speculator to betake himself to some more profita'ae business. If the want of respectable custom shoulfl induce kbp.pub l :ican to make his house the resort of abandoneai charac ters, and the scene of riot or other, illegal pro ceeding, the police is within ca11.,-and the law is brought speedily into action But one deploy able consequence of those a es o it i e te upon the b ee trade, of which the licence-late forms so prole , neat and oppressie T a part, is the check thereL , J given to tha progress of that trade--an d the comparative, rapid, and frightful growth in the nonauanption of spirituous lig t uors. We quote the following_ paragraph up o n taa t pmt trout the Ii v Winburols i • • ew, alre ,4dy mentioned, and the passages succeeding it, as supports to tr ue general argument : If additiatial proofs be wanted of pernicious effects af this system, they are at Ir.nd. ft is an iveftth to common sense to say, that it contributes to the support of morality anti sobriety. Aro morals and sobriety likely to ha much promoted by a sys tem, the effect of which is to substitute ardent spirits in the plug of malt liquors ? Rut that such 1