The Sun. — London, England, 1841-11-02 00:00:00

MORNING SUN THE MAGAZINES. BLACKWOOD' S MAGAZINE. Mr. Alison's History of the French Revolu tion—or rather the ninth volume of this elabo rate work—forms the subject of a spirited critical notice in this Number. We find little to object to in this notice, unless it be the Reviewer's esti mate of Napoleon, whom, in one place, he styles " the prince of charlatans," and in another, an " incorrigibly heartless, innately perfidious, and remorselessly bloody tyrant," who made the " nearest approach to a fiend of any man that ever sate on a throne." Hard words these, so much so as to be quite ridiculous. Napoleon was no worse than other conquerors : indeed he was far su perior to many ; and, considering the prodigious elevation he attained, the power he wielded, the temptations to which lie was subjected, and the sanguinary and licentious period at which he commenced his career, the wonder is, not that he committed so many crimes, but that he com mitted so few. As regards his charlatanism, this charge is, we think, sufficiently refuted by his history. It was not charlatanism that gained him, at the age of twenty-six, his first laurels in Italy; still less was it charlatanism that won the battles of Marengo and Austerlitz, and drew up that famous code which extorted the admiration of the first legislators and lawyers of the age. " Sket c h es of I taly " are l i ght, pleasant reading enough, dashed off at a heat, and evidently while the impressions were yet strong in the writer's mind. The comments on the " Report from the Select Committee of Fine Arts" are seasonable and judicious, and we coincide with the objecti ons to M r. B arry ' s proposa l to i ncrease the quantity of light to be let in through the roof in Westminster Hall. As these objections are eloquently and forcibly urged, we cannot do better than quote a portion of them 'What ! increase the dormar windows in Westminster nall—make so material an alteratiol in the ancient ar chitect's d es i gn ! Th e quan t um o f li g ht, an d pos i t i on Not, i s to architecture what chioroscuro is to painting. ounian being has a right to meddle in this great Matt er ; and what could be worse than to let in any por tion of pres en t an d gar i s h d ay i nto t h at grey an d m i sty antiquity, the atmosphere of ages—the shadowy hall, w hose aerial di s t ances are as ble n d e d e p oc h s o f f ar - o tf ._ ! The very beams and rafters are eloquent, im pregnated with the breath of hoary wisdom, throw their recesses of m y in g off their frEX 7rrE i v° Err' in echoy sounds, fro m 11 stic and oracular obscurity. Fit a 1 1; even now, wherein the shade of Alfred may walk '"Cjeapoury majesty, and, like the great Achilles, rejoice . I . e 4 . 4 he learns that his sons excel in glory. Here is ideal of architecture—the personification of a great history : lot it rest in its original intention. If pictures and statues must be there, let them be painted for the I, and -curingnot mutilate the building to make modern co the more conspicuous." " Chapters of Turkish History" are devoted t o an account of the famous siege of Vienna during the reign of Solyman the Magnificent— e contemporary of Francis the First and uharles th e Fi fth, an d the most powerful prince that ever s waye d t h e O t t oman sceptre. Th e `alls of thi s even t, so g l or i ous to t h e Ch r i st i an chivalry—etfor the Turk here met with one of his most crushing defeats—are given with infinite ; I gor and minuteness. " Hebraistics," is an ha ve notice of an old d rama , supposed to *Ye been wr itt en b y a J ew . " Homer and the totneridm," is not so good this month as it was last. It is too prolix and desultory, and as it s eems to have no beginning, so it comes to no roclusion. " Grandfathers and Grandchildren," poem b much of a grandfather's prosiness out it. " Funcheon Woods," is an elegant ) ,°eM by Mr. Simmons; but we prefer quoting he lively quiz on Lord Palmerston's mode of renouncing the Greek word Ilione (Hilli-on nee ). t he first ista we m e not, is Lorsh will be ainong to laugh at its good-humoured archness : HILLI- ONNEE. The Whigs can boast of many a name, Groat Normanby and Little Johnny ; But far their foremost child of fame Is he that owns fleet Hilli-onnee. 'Mong lords and legs a contest rose As fierce as e'er we fought with Bonny ; From words it almost came to blows, And still the theme was Hilli-onnee. And some said this and some said that : No want there was of taco-phony With short and long, with sharp and flat, They sore misnomer'd Hilli-onnee. Then one bethought him of a way To terminate this acri-mony ; He call'd as umpire of the fray, The Lord that owns fleet Hilli-onnee. His Lordship, though a scholar once, At this appeal was much etonne ; But loth to be esteem'd a dunce, He search'd his books for Hilli-onne. No doubt he well remember'd yet Old Sophocles's Hanti-gonne ; A clearer case he could not get, Nor more in point for Ililli-onnee. But firmer proofs he sought and found; The Greeks, disliking mono-tonny, Had accents to direct the sound, And these show'd here 'twas Hilli-onnee. He wrote his answer, brief, yet bright With classic wit and keen i-ronny, And having quash'd the Tories quite, He taught us all 'twas Hilli-onnee. Ot Peel! your guilt what tongue can tell ! 'Twas nothing less than rank fe-lonny, To oust a Lord who talks so well Of heathen Greek and Hilli-onnee. Had I the might of Pindar's muse To sing the praise of Palmer-stonny; The deathless Prince of Syracuse Should yield to him and Hilli-onnee. Pindar, alas ! is in his grave ; But this good page of old E-bonny, For distant days the names shall save Of Palmer-ston and Hilli-onnee. I ,,,,Thi s i s BENTLEY S MISCELLANY. rich ber Al u rn the most spirited and entertaining we . have read for many a month. The tie h, fa nsastic humour of In drama- Ilia o e er of Whi te h ea d— t h e qua i nt, cord i al, or lik e ccentricity of George Daniel—and the for-enl) graphi c vigour of Oilier—all combine to theba miscellany unsurpassed, if equalled, by piet°rial of es t its periodi ca l con t em p orar i es . Th e altet 1 partment is not less clever ; and the as; fine of the " Auto-da-fe" by L e e c h, ex hibit s desire a s Pecimen of Muck horror as one could si te eto shake one's sides at. What an exqui theretb•sence of all i nte lli gence an d sens ibilit y i s 1 1 In the simpering countenance of the Spanish "are"' J ew I l a n ' W ho is coolly taking. snuff, while a ‘ ,„,enibtt ~.P roasting before him, evidently much 7 hat r.- ,", d by the novelty of his position ! that 0 ( ' l uPpy counterpart of the royal phiz is AhraelitG°l4 Stick in Waiting, who stares at the not b - F, as if astonished at his bad taste in fueitu r eltl g delighted 'with the opportunity of Grad ~Majesty ! The expressive mug of the I nquisitor, which indicates anxi c - t ' ll • ' a benevolent k ill „3' that the Jew should be "done to a abi .' is equally irresistible. Of the poem thus terzii illustrated, we cannot speak in warmer .. Inn, s of praise than when we say that it is Rib the 'best that Ingoldsby has produced.. p r ' oe l bard Savage" . improves in interest .. as it •,,,,eeds. Here is a description of his seizure by c t ti- Ills despatched after him by order of his af eet; .„-onate mother t in ; Itas about to knock at the door, when a man tapped ;,°n the shoulder. 1 4 ?„ One word with y o u, if y ou pl ease ," h e sa id, beckon 111e a few paces. I attended him. . 44 , Your name Savage ?" he inquired. 4: A. 41, is. What do you want ? ei,`U'a, Bill, lend a hand," he said. th e 41 , it seemed, was alive to business ; for scarce were Pow lv ° ..i rds spoken, when my arms . were pinioned_ by a ba "I ' l ruffian and I was thrust into a coach, the two ell t u br • ' tln mg in after me. In an instant, the door was the Z.---the wi n d ows were d rawn up, the blinds after j,: and the coach drove off at a rapid rate. „ 11 411 0 -113 . ,5° confounded by this sudden seizure, that I was zioi,e . ,, l) q °lit of my presence of mind. In a moment, with i i e l r, I regained my senses, and struggling violently 14 04 e two fellows, attempted to get hold of the handle It 4 " the doors. Cur s • with a thsin .e his young bones and muscles," cried one of „ till." brutal oath. " This won't do. Down with of s lde e i tt llnn Bill dealt me a tremendous blow on the gustthr the head, and winding his hand into my cravat, 1 .tle domr n L upon one of the seats. ~ Isi . all ue this choked," I gasped. " Don't murder me." thnekiat bout," cried the fellow with a hoarse k r h_ei planting his knee upon my chest, and forcing th e rc 7c l back with his hand. " Now, Watson, where's can' t r, Just tie up his pickers and stealers ;he Watson t noch harm after that." intightlyoZaasitireatly with his rope, which he bound g toe is y wrists. " Now get up," said he, lend how a ',tick-handed slap upon the face, " and tell us wi i °ll find Yourself bythisume.,, / I. ( 4 t*Yer rn • Private feelings of resentment might be, h a led it Wa s useless to remonstrate with men, whom, „ v g e d wh o •L' . at perfect liberty I could not effectually resist, ala rm, eetillad rendered me altogether powerless. They l"g Under orders • and these, although in some (le applied myself to discover. of lb ; niler nen ~ , ~ ki t ' 3 WOrEl • ' ' °egan, (what a shocking perversion !),„ etreumstances compel us at times to com •wastak gentlemen, I _ am sure there ~ must be some ~,,h i She a li IJ : s r:not be the person you want. ,k. Was called Bill, the gag useful ?" said the fellow li nt ' t °lll 1 g fello-1:' " that mouth of his will be opening. th e , ° set el , yo w, cried the other, "if you'll promise )10ise, shall k ur throat, and to attempt no escape, Bill, i st , eor a so u gag in his pocket: if you make a v i iel. Viri372 Wearing horribly, "it shall be worse b'Ou ; 4 „,;finre got you; and we know what to do " 4 w ha; WO choOif to do ' b wit you t nobody -7 I V//‘ ~ w '''-',.. need know. We shan'6. mureer yoi,C dare say, unless you wish it." "But, what are you going to do with me?" I urged, greatly disturbed at this speech, which implied that murder was one of the branches of the worthies' pro fession. " He will be chattering, you see," said Bill. "Never mind," replied Watson, "it does him good, and us no harm. It's natural he should feel a little curio sity. Should'nt you, Bill?" " Why yes," said Bill. " Nature, you know, as a man may say, is what we all feel." "Do we?" returned Watson. " Well, I'm no scholar, and don't know much about that." " Gentlemen," said I, " I am sure you are in an error. I am certain you have taken the wrong person." "Catch us doing that," replied Watson ; " though, I dare say if we had taken any one else instead of you, you'd have thought him the right one. No—no." " A Tale of the High North Road" is a curious account of the sayings and doings of two highly educated London artists, who passed themselves off on the landlord of a country hotel, for Lord Brougham and his valet, travelling post-haste to Scotland. Of course, they were detected, but not before they had mistaken the landlord's best silver plate for their own, and decamped with it in the hurry of the moment. The " Moated Grange " is a readable story, but it would have been improved by curtailment. " Merrie Eng land in the Olden Time " is a singular melange, the product of an intellect of a restless, frag mentary character, made up of dainty odds and ends, like a second day's feast. Mr. Daniel is " every thing by turns, and nothing long." He is constantly starting ideas, but never runs them down. He suggests, but does not work out. Before is well on with one subject, he is off, like lightning, to another. One moment we find him wandering, without care for his pockets, in the thick of Bartlemy Fair ; the next, he is deep in biography; but soon tiring of this vein, he flies for relief to a quaint, familiar ballad, in which, provided it be short, he emi nently excels. Reading his " Merrie England " is something like witnessing a pantomime. The changes are so sudden and unexpected, the lights and shades so broad, the bustle so incessant, and the effect of the whole so grotesque, that the mind is in a continued whirl throughout. Yet we like Mr. Daniel, despite the hop-step-and-jump turn of his intellect. He is evidently a kindly natured man, well informed—say, rather, full of odd scraps of information, and with much of that simplicity of character—at least we judge so by his writings—which is usually the com panion of genius. Old Fuller would have under stood him; Sterne would have been proud to have his opinion of Uncle Toby ; and Elia would have recognised in him another self. The " Bread and Cheese Club" is of average merit. The following is the best thing in it :—" There is neither i infancy nor youth in a pun ; no pro gression n its ephemeral life ; it is born full grown, and dies of old age in a second." The Spanish story, "La Diligenca," is too long, and its interest does not warrant its length. The " Gathering of the Dead" is a wild flight of fancy—a sort •of poetic nightmare, wherein imagination and absurdity are combined in nearly equal portions. The " Haunted Manor House of Paddington " is a local legend, told with uncommon earnestness. The working-out is particularly good, the inci dents all acting together, all growing naturally out of the subject, and telling by their unity and completeness. " Guy Fawkes" is now brought to a close, and we are not sorry for it. It is a work of tact rather than genius, to which it bears the same resemblance that burnished cop per bears to gold. Though constantly in motion, its characters have no life. They are mere painted puppets set in action by the showman's strings. The descriptive portions of the tale are the best, for Mr. Ainsworth has a quick and true eye for the picturesque; and when pourtraying a scene that has struck his fancy—such, for instance, as Chat Moss—never overshoots, or falls short of; his mark, " Love's Banquet" is an arch little poem, and we subjoin it accordingly think of the minutes-0! think of the nights I've spent on my pillow awake— What fevers endured, what dreams, and what frights— All these have I borne for your sake! 0! remember your vows, your oath on your knee, The kiss when you said we must part, But promised, whatever your distance from me, I still should be close to your heart. How oft have you said, "I but live in your eyes, A banquet for Jove is your look— Your charms are a feast—other food I despise!" And now you have married your cook NETT' MONTHLY MAGAZINE. The late Mr. Macnish's tale of " Metempsy chosis," which was published many years ago in Blackwood's Magazine, has been closely, indeed, servilely, imitated by the author of " A Strange Passage in th e life of Charles Welford"—a story which appears in the presents N umber of this periodical, and which turns on the sudden trans formation of the hero into a certain noble Mar quis, whose wealth and rank he had long coveted. In the original narrative the scene of the trans formation of one man into another, by super natural influence, was laid in Germany, where such a wild incident was appropriately enough located; but the present imitator, with the bad taste that usually characterises imitations, lays his scene in a Square at the West-end of London ; where, doubtless, many singular metamorphoses occur in the course of the season—(such, for in stance, as the change of a rich man into a beggar by the conjuring powers of a pack of cards ; of a Prime Minister into a quack doctor; or of a club-haunting husband into a stag, through the diabolical agency of some handsome young officer in the Guards, standing six feet two in his shoes, and measuring three feet across the shoulders) — but where a transformation, such as the author of " Charles Welford," adopts as the ground work of his fiction, becomes the sheerest absur dity, from the circumstance of its forming no part of the past or present faith of a worldly, incredulous W est-end Square? The locale makes all the difference between sense and nonsense in works of imagination. Pan frisking in the woods of Arcadia, is a highly poetical personage; but when he is made to cut capers in the Regent's Park, he becomes not only an ab surd, incongruous creation, but a very suspicious character, worthy of the special notice of the policemen. " A Test of Equanimity "is archly and whimsically put. " Take a quart bottle of ink," says the writer, " break it, and try if you can say 'it's all for the best,' while it's spoiling your best pantaloons !" This is certainly a good test of equanimity, but we subjoin a far surer one ;—take the Rev. Mr. Dillon's narrative of the Lord Mayor's Voyage to Oxford ; read through six pages; and try if you can refrain from flinging this printed prodigy of dullness and ineptitude into the coal-scuttle. He who can so command himself, can bear the griefs of Job without a murmur. " Phineas Quiddy," con tains some smart hits at the sordid money-scrap ing propensities of the day. In the article headed " A French Pic-nic," we find several descriptive touches of more than ordina r y v i gor . T h e " Outlaw " is a pretty ballad of the Haynes-Bayley school. We quote it, for the amusement of our younger readers : They knew him in his Gladness, In his Summer's brightest day ; Ere Penury and Sadness lied dimm'd its latest ray. Who can admire the sunbeams When hid in transient gloom ? Or who can love the rose-tree, When its roses cease to bloom ? They left him in his Sorrow, When his heart was sad and lone When he rose upon the morrow But to wish it past and gone ! Oh ! who can love the winter, When its sky with tempest lowers ? 'Tis the Spring alone finds friends • For its Sunbeams and its Flowers. Of the concluding chapters of the " Life and Adventures of Charles Chesterfield," we need say nothing, as the work has been already re published in three volumes, and passed the ordeal of criticism. The " Advantages of Be longing to a Club" is by the author of Paul Pry. It is a capital quiz on those mean, restless, fid getty busy-bodies, who have a passion for re forming every thing and every body but them selves. Mr. Poole lays on the lash without mercy. Lord Cardigan himself could not order a man to be flogged on Sunday with more seve rity. "Graduates and Undergraduates" exhibits yromise ; but it is early yet to form a decided opinion of a work which has only reached its second chapter. "Bajazet Gag ; or the Manager in Search of a Star," is continued by Mr. Jerrold with his usual dry, grave, caustic humour. The scene at the police-office where the pompous Lessee—and who more pompous than such a per sonage ?—is charged with stealing the dog of a rival manager, is admirable. With what infinite dignity the greet man resigns himself to circum stances ! With what an eye of condescending pity he regards his prompter, who is also his partner in affliction ! Adversity tames the proudest natures; and the despotic Gag almost descends to the level of his fellow-sufferer, and allows him to be his equal ! How many a would be Magnifico may derive a useful lesson from Mr. Jerrold's irony ! As this scene is unfortu nately too long to quote, we give, instead, a sketch of a veteran actor, who has been dis missed by the imperious Bajazet, for laying an undue emphasis on the letter B : Old Smoakly—for so was the prophet known to his brethren—was an actor of forty years' standing, and some titi,6oll3 Since 44 been quelled in Elie troof of Gag. To use the well-known phrase, he was always " perfect as an angel in his part"—could play one character quite as well as another—was never too late at a rehearsal—was quite an authority in character wigs—acted duinmy ba ronets and virtuous broken-hearted fathers with all the legendary proprieties,—and, indeed, cast an unusual re spectability about that very equivocal theatrical abstrac tion—general utility. Yet, with all these advantages, Smoakly was discharged—ay, ignominiously thrust forth from the boards oeGag. We hope that the reader will have curiosity sufficient to seek the wherefore. We will tell him. Smoakly, with all these excellencies, fell a victim to the letter b. In one of Gag's hardware, do mestic tragedies—one of those touching dramas written with the juice of onions, which the manager had fami liarized to the sensibilities of the town, Smoakly had one of those important characters, the very importance of which very often consists in saying next to nothing ; the less that there is to be said of course requiring the greater condensation of genius to make the little striking. Smoakly acted upon this obvious principle. The part was lead, but there was one line in it, which the actor by the very alchemy of emphasis was determined to transmute into virgin gold. The incident was briefly as follows :—The scoundrel of the drama was about to kid nap the rightful heir of some very extensive Hungarian estates, when the bold, good man, intrusted to Smoakly, opportunely enters, and in energetic speech addresses the culprit,— " Villain—deliver up the baby !" was the powerful line intrusted to Smoakly, who had merely to utter it, draw his sword, stamp with his right foot, and fixing himself in an attitude, wait for the ap plause. Smoakly, however, was not content with the simple energy of " baby" as spelt by Johnson, but striv ing to wreak the intensest passion on the word, exclaimed " Villain—deliver up the bobby ! Upon ordinary occasions Smoakly's improvement of the syllables might have passed off unnoticed by Gag's audi ence ; but, unfortunately, it was Saturday night, and there being present a number of gentlemen of the Hebrew persuasion, the auditory were correspondingly critical ; hence Smoakly's bobby was received with a burst of laughter altogether destructive of the intended pathos of the scene. Smoakly was on the instant discharged, Mr. Bajazet Gag not condescending to listen to the high authority of Shakspeare himself, which Smoakly sought to wrest to his own extenuation. " Doesn't Shakspeare make Marc Antony say, "This was the most unkindest cut of all ?'_ and doesn't Shakspeare there mean to show that the passion of the part is too great, too swelling, to be con fined to the vulgar bounds of grammar ? Did yo❑ ever hear a man in a rage care about talking grammar ? Do you think if you saw a ruffian running away with your child, you'd pause to pick out baby from tabby ? No, Sir, the more wrong you were, the more you'd show yourself in earnest. What's pronunciation to feelings ?' THE SUN, LONDON, FR.4SER' S MAGAZINE. In the statements respecting the battle of 'Wa terloo, which form the first article in the Nutn ber before us, the writer endeavours to prove that the French army was more numerous by some thousands than the English. He labours hard to establish this point, and will no doubt find many readers willing and eager to be con vinced of the truth of his arguments; but the fact we believe to be, just what Sir Walter Scott and other historians have stated—namely, that the two armies were pretty equally matched in point of numbers. It must not be forgotten, however, that the very flower of the Imperial troops were present at the action—tried veterans, whom the peace had restored to France, and who had distinguished themselves in most of the great battles of Napoleon ; consequently, our victory over such men cannot be too highly ap preciated. In one of his assertions, which he repeats more than once, the writer is decidedly in error. He states emphatically that the " battle commenced at twelve o'clock." Now this is not the case, for the Duke of Wellington himself-- who may be presumed to be pretty good autho rity—declared, when applied to on the subject by more than one military man, that, to the best of his recollection, the action commenced about ten. The next article is a biographical memoir of Theodore Hook, from which we extract a passage or two : Mr. Hook's memory was always miraculous. When about eighteen he undertook for a wager to repeat the names and trades upon the shop-fronts situated on one side of Oxford street, after passing down a certain por tion of it. This undertaking he accomplished, failing only in the due succession of one house. But it being after wards observed by one of the party, that Mr. Hook might possibly have been partially acquainted with the shops previously, he engaged, after the perusal of the front page of a newspaper, to rehearse every advertise ment that stood in its columns. This he also performed without a single mistake. Although Mr. Hook had great animal spirits, he did not possess equal vivacity at all times ;on the contrary, he was subject, as most men of genius are, to deep and bitter depressions of mind, most affecting to witness. Strange to say, of so gifted and intelligent a being, he was superstitious to a painful degree. He entertained an implicit belief in superna tural agency, and would listen to a ghost-story 'with a pallid cheek and awe-inspired interest. Early in life he wrote a novel called The Man of Sorrow, in which this weakness was manifest ; and though, as his judgment strengthened, he conquered much of this tendency, yet to the last years of his existence he cherished many of his early impressions. As a trivial instance, it may be mentioned that he never would enter upon any undertaking of importance, if he could help it, on a Friday. He had, however, a remarkable insight into the weaknesses and follies of others, and was not unobservant of his own. He penetrated into the depths of the most wily; and de tected the small intents of little minds with the most whimsical facility, dragging them from their shallow hiding places, and laying them bare upon the surface with infinite humour, to their owner's surprise and dis may. He held a professed enmity with what he described under the expressive head of humbug—every evidence of which he assailed with all the vigour of his powerful ridicule, inexorably putting the right names upon wrong things. It has been observed that Mr. Hook continued his intimacy and friendship with Mathews, with few in termissions, up to the period of the comedian's death. One interruption, however, there was, which threatened to be fatal to their future good understanding. It oc curred about the year 1827, when Mr. Hook, in one of his humorous veins, was irresistibly tempted to work upon some traditional accounts picked up, of the strolling players of other days (for the race must have been extinct before he was born), and to publish their supposed " sayings and doings" in that admirable series in the story of Gervaise Skinner. The " Journal of an Autumn in the Country'' is an entertaining melange of literary anecdote and gossip, interspersed with brief critical re marks. Speaking incidentally of Lord Orrery, the friend of Swift, the writer compares him to Bos well—a strange comparison, for the immortal Bozzy is like no author we ever heard of, whe ther in ancient or modern literature. He stands alone—a glorious Unit ! Again, we are told that Warburton greatly resembled Johnson. In his haughty arrogance, perhaps, he did, but in no thing else. Warburton was fond of paradox and of abstruse theological speculations, which he pushed at times beyond the pale of orthodoxy; Johnson had no relish for paradox, and in matters of divinity was more orthodox, if possible, than an Archbishop. 'Warburton obtained fame chiefly by his show of erudition, which was prodigious; Johnson obtained it, less by his scholarship, which was by no means extraordinary, than by the innate force of his genius. 'Warburton had some fancy, but no wit; Johnson abounded in both. 'Warburton was in no respect remarkable for his conversational powers; Johnson was the most brilliant talker of his day. There were many other points of discrepancy between them ; but we have no lei sure to revert to then), so must hurry on. " Budget of a Blue Jacket" is a narrative, penned by one who was present at the time of the dis interment of the ashes of Napoleon, during which solemn proceeding, we are told, "it is not easy to paint the emotion of all present. General Bertrand made an involuntary bound, as though lie were about to throw himself into the arms of the Emperor. Many sobbed convul sively ; others were sad and silent; but every eye was moist." " A Chapter on Dogs" is smart and lively ; and in the " History of Samuel Tit marsh" we have some satirical particulars of one or two flash Joint-stock London Companies. 'We shall be glad to see Mr.Titmarsh's reminiscences of his ancestor continued, for they teem with point and vigour. The last article is on the sub ject of the late publisher of this Magazine, whose character is drawn with a friendly pen, though nothing is advanced th a t i s no t s t r i c tly warran t e d. aot hismunificent geniusfriendtable,ordinarytoinneeded e ; to s t o h c o i s a e l , n i i i e o i s i . p o i - f t ta u e n h a m e e rs n t t a s n , d a i n n d s p . ossessed of 1 TAIT'S MAGAZINE. After being discontinued for some months, the " Memoirs of Jeremy Bentham" are here re sumed. Dr. Bowring is the editor, but we can not congratulate him on his success ; for the few original passages furnished by him, with a vieW of keeping up the unity of the narrative, are as dry and matter-of-fact as a tradesman's ledger. It must be said, however, to the Doctor's credit, that, for the most part, he leaves Bentham to tell his own story ; but, as Jeremy is a dull fel low, and his biographer a still duller . , the combi nation of the two dullnesses becomes quite alarm ing, as much so, as if Hume and Macculloch were to club together to write a fairy-tale ! Al luding cursorily to the celebrated Brissot, to whom he was introduced when in Paris, Ben tham says that he " was a little weak man, ignorant of the world. His influence was due to a great fluency in writing. He kept up a daily newspaper himself ; it was a mighty small thing, but . he could be depended on ; and he. became the organ of a party that could depend on him, and on nobody else. He really erected a public-opinion tribu nal of his own, which raised him to be the head of his party. His conversation was not remark able." Brissot is here underrated ; but, indeed, the whole passage betrays gross lgu,or4nce. Mignet, in his philosophical history of the Re volution, expressly states that Brissot possessed great activity of mind, and an accurate and ex ' tensive acquaintance with the situation of foreign Powers ; and Lafayette, who knew him well, and of all his contemporaries was the least likely to overrate him, bears direct testimony, in his Memoirs, to his talents as a politician, and his skill as a journalist. As for his being the only man of his party who could be depended on, this is ridiculous, and proves how utterly unacquainted Bentham was with the cha racter of the Girondists. Roland and Vcrgniaud were at least as trustworthy, if not more so, than Brissot, and this was the general opinion at the time. " Luigia Sanfelice" is an affecting story, founded on fact, and referring to the period of the overthrow of the Neapolitan Constitution by the French Republicans. " Violet Hamilton" is concluded, and reads off lightly and trippingly to the last. " Chapters on English Poetry" ana lyze the poetical character of Shelley with much force and subtlety. The " Student-Life of Ger many" is one of the few dull reviews we have met with in Tait ; but this, perhaps, was un avoidable from the nature of the subject. It is impossible, as the old adage says, to make a silk purse out of a sow's ear. The " Old Man's Melodies," is a poem so sweetly arid simply ver sified, that we cannot resist the temptation of quoting it entire :--, 0 the blossoms of youth, and the blighting of years ! How dreary the garden of promise appears ! How vainly I look, when with age clouded o'er, For the smiles and the voices that met me before ! But lives in my bosom the feeling, as young, That then to the flowin g o f me l o dy sprung, When youth's careless bounding was saddened away By the Flowers of the Forest, and Auld Robin Gray. I have heard them at home, by the hearth and the When night winds were dreary, or evening was still ; I have heard them afar on the deep's mighty breast, And their,melody moaning in woods of the West. Ina land where the music of mine is unknown, ... 'Tis there I'm a stranger, and there I'm alone ; But there's home in a tune, if the tune that they play Be the Flowers of the Forest, or Auld Robin Gray. There is trumping in war—there is piping in peace— There is music for mirth, and for sorrow's increase— There's a song for the young, merry-hearted, and bold, And, blast be its music !—a tune for the old. And in age I have friends that will listen with me, Nor boast from the power of sweet sounds to be free, But sadly be solaced, at life's closing day, By the Flowers of the Forest; and Auld Robin Gray. IJESDAY, NOVEMBER 2, 1841. DUBLIN UNIVERSITY MAGAZINE. The author of" Charles O'Malley," who is by far the ablest contributor to this Ma gaz i n e, con tinues hisi military reminiscences with a vigour and vivacity that never sink into tameness. In his off-hand, dashing mode of narration he re sembles Mr. Maxwell; but he h as mo r e versa tility and less assumption, producing effect with out the slightest effort or parade. I n deed the great charm of his writing is its man ly unaffect edness. His humour is unpremeditat e d, an d his pathos is equally the impulse of the moment. In his present chapters lie bring s b ac k hi s h ero to Ireland, poor and discontented, having, been compelled to sell out of the army in consequence of family necessities. While residing in that country in a state of unwilling seclusion and in activity, the author sets him moralising as fol lows—for Charles O'Malley, we should premise, is throughout supposed to be his own biographer : Life is marked out in periods in which, like stages in a journey, we rest and repose ourselves, casting a look now back upon the road we have been travelling ; now throwing a keener glance towards the path left us. It is at such spots as these remembrance comes full upon us, and that we feel how little our intentions have swayed our career, or influenced our actions; the aspirations, the resolves of youth, are either looked upon as puerile follies, or a most distant day settled on for their realiza tion. The principles we fondly looked to, like our guide stars, are dimly visible, not seen ; the friends we che rished are changed and gone ; the scenes th emse l ves seem no longer the sunshine and the s h a d e w e l ove d ; and, in fact, we are living in a new world, where our own altered condition gives the type to all around us ; the only link that binds us to the past being that same memory that, like a sad curfew, tolls the twilight of our fairest dreams and most cherished wishes. That these glimpses of the by-goneseason of our youth should be but fitful and passing—tinging, not colouring, the land scape of our life—we should be engaged in all the active bustle and turmoil of the world, surrounded by objects of hope, love, and ambition, stemming the strong tide in whose fountain is fortune. He, however, who lives apart, a dreamy and a passionless existence, will find that in the past, more than in the future, his thoughts have found their resting-place ; memory usurps the place of hope, and he travels through life like one walk ing onward, his eyes still turning towards some loved, forsaken spot, teeming with all the associations of his happiest hours, and preserving, even in distance, the outline that he prized. Distance in time, as in space, smooths down all the inequalities of surface ; and, as the cragged and rugged mountain, darkened by cliff and precipice, shows to the far-off traveller but some blue and misty mass, so the long-lost-sight-of hours lose all the cares and griefs that tinged them ; and, to our mental eye, are but objects of uniform loveliness and beauty. If there be no decided originality in the above reflections, yet there is an easy grace and elo quence in the manner in which they are ex pressed, deserving of high praise. It will be observed, too, that there is no showing-off of thought in them. The author lays no more on his theme than it will bear, but just simply " says his say" in the first language that occurs 'to him. His descriptive powers are exercised in a way not less creditable to his good sense. We subjoin a sketch of an Irish sylvan landscape, which a few hasty but discriminating touches place vividly before us : It was a fine evening i n M a y, when, rigging up a spritsail, I jumped into my yawl, and dropped easily down the river : the light wind gently curled the crested water ; the trees waved gently and shook their branches in the breeze, and my little bark, bending slightly be neath, rustled on her foa m y t rac k w ith that joyous bound ing motion so inspiriting to one's heart. The clouds were flying swiftly past, tinging with their shadows the mountains beneath ; the Munster shore, glowing with a rich sunlight, showed every sheep-cot and every hedge row clearly out, while the deep shadow of tall Scariff darkened the silent river where Holy Island, with its ruined churches and melancholy tower, were reflected in the still water. It was a thoroughly Irish landscape; the changeful sky ; the fast flitting shadows ; the brilliant sunlight ; the plenteous fields ; the broad and swelling stream ; the dark mountain, from whose brown crest a wreath of thin blue smoke was rising,—were all there smiling yet sadly, like her own sons, across whose lour ing brow some fitful flash of fancy every playing, dallies like sunbeams on a darkening stream, nor marks the depth that lies below. 64 Whewell's Philosophy of the Inductive Sciences" is an elaborate notice of a masterly treatise that has excited the attention of the scien tific world in no ordinary degree. The " Por trait-Gallery " contains a full-length like ness, accompanied by a short memoir, of Co lonel Chesney, well-known for his recent surveys, by order of Government, of the naviga tion of the Euphrates. The "Proposal for the Re conciliation of the Protestant and Roman Catholic Churches," however kindly and charitably meant, is, we fear, little better than a visionary crotchet. Two suns cannot rule in the same sphere, nor can two antagonist religions ever be brought to act in'harinony with each other in England. As well might we expect to see two rival statesmen, or two rival beauties, or—more improbable still —two rival actors--live together in good-fellow ship I The Catholic Church, always ambitious of supremacy, cannot forget nor forgive her being supplanted by the Protestant; and the latter Establishment, well aware of this, repu diates the idea of reconciliation, knowing that it is hopeless. When Mr. Peter Borthwick shall fail to clear the House of Commons by his ora tory—when Lord Stanley shall recognise the in carnation of patriotism in Lord Mayor O'Con nell—when Mr. Horace Twiss shall write a tragedy that cannot be mistaken for a comed,y— then, but not till then, will the Protestant and Catholic churches act in amicable concert ' together, as if influenced by one indivisible interest. UNITED SERVICE JOURNAL. "A Three Weeks' R amble and Cruize in the Summer of 1841," is a picturesque account of a trip to Ireland, and the Highlands of Scotland. The writer was naturally desirous of treading scenes immortalized by the genius of Sir Walter Scott, so set out fur the Trossac:ls, in the full conviction that he was about to beliOld a sort of Arcadian clime. But, ala p s for the diffeiTnce b e tween fiction and fact! lite weather was exe crable j the sun invisible; the landscape hidia.linodinliVelTasli3fracitluMalifyfe)'co; ragged spongy clouds; glle4 to make the cir cuit of the " Lady of the Lake 4 s' dominions under an umbrella, which, as a matter of eoufse l turned inside out wheneve r the rain and wind were more than ordinarily lively ! " Military Force of Great Britain," is a very useful statis tical article, and put forth just at a fitting season. " Anson's Expedition,: is passable ; and so is s s l little ) to the account of "Syria et:;!'ing the Campaign under Mehemet Ali,' although it a. 4cl the public stock of information on the u THE cHqpcf-DIAN. This periodical, described as 71a magazine in support of the Church," must give the reader a most unfavourable idea of the establishment which it would take under its protection. ft accuses other sects and political parties of false hoods without the slightest foundation ; claims for the Church, though covertly, exclusive loyalty and piety; and imputes to what the writer is pleased to call the Whig-Radical Press state ments utterly devoid of truth. W4at Whip! .r.,.~~ Radical paper ever represented the Queen as re gardless of the sanctity of the Sabbath, as inat tentive to family devotion, and as absorbed with the pleasures of the Court? Not one. But some of the parsons did, to their disgrace as Chris tiansand men. Now, if we are to believe this oracle, they, overflow with love to her Majesty. In the first half page the word " love " occurs ten times, and is understood twenty more, form ing the most mawkish piece of silly twaddle that ever issued from the press. "We love the Church," says this parson, "but we • love like wise the Queen. We love the office of the Queen—we love the family—we love the illus trious foreign houses—we love the house of Brunswick, the houses of Cobourg and Gotha— we love the person of our young Queen—we love herself for her own charms, her sex—we love her illustrious consort, and their cherished and beloved child, the Princess Royal," &c. &c. He then begins a new theme with this charitable an nouncement:—" It is false, wholly false, that Protestant Conservatives do not love their Queen." For the peace of society we sincerely hope that this writer does not represent the clergy of England. BRITISH MAGAZINE. A monthly register of religious and ecclesias tical infbrn►ation, parochial history, &c., com piled with skill and diligence, and containing, by way of frontispiece, a map of the diocese of Chester. HAYMARKET THEATRE. Miss Helen Faucit's benefit took place at this Theatre last evening, and long before the rising of the curtain, the house was filled in every part. The long promised tragedy of Nina Sforza, written by Mr. Zouch Trough ton, was acted on this occasion for the first time, and the anticipations of those who, from a perusal of this beautiful dramatic poem (which has been pub lished for some time) augured its success as an acting play, have been fully realized. The scene opens at Venice, in the palazzo of Sforza (Mr. 11. Wallack), a Venetian noble, whose daughter, Nina (Miss Helen Faucit), is just bursting into womanhood. Raphael Doria (Mr. Wallack), the son and heir of the reigning Duke of Genoa, accompanied by Ugone Spinola (Mr. Macready), a noble Genoeso, and other attendants, arrive at the palazzo of Sforza. In former times there had been a deadly feud between the houses of Spinola and Doria, and the father of Spinola had, in a sedition excited by him, been slain by the par tisans of Doris!. The houses had subsequently become reconciled, and Ugone Spinola and Raphael Doria had become bosom friends. Raphael Doria how ever, a youth of wayward tastes, who wants but firmness to be virtuous, is unconsciously a mere tool in the hands of Spinola, who obtains over him that mastery which strong minds ever have over weak ones. His dissipations are encouraged by Spinola—his boyish freaks magnified into crimes in the eyes of his father, and the result is that Raphael is sent on his travels for three years. He takes with him Spinola as the compa nion of his exile. Spinola has, from political motives, previously sought an alliance with the house of Sforza, and without Nina's knowledge has asked her hand frem her father. He tells old Sforza of Raphael's vices, and warns him to keep his daughter from the sight of Doria. Accident, however, subverts his schemes. Nina, whose gondola has been run down by a vessel in the canal of Venice, is saved by Raphael Doria. They love, are wedded, and the old Duke dying is succeeded by Raphael, who takes his young and lovely bride with him to Genoa. " Love and genius," as the author beautifully expresses it, " invest even the meanest things with princely value," and their life in Genoa for the first few months is a perfect heaven of love. Spinola, like Satan of old, inspired by envy, jealousy, and hate, hovers around this Eden, which he seeks in vain, to turn into the hell which reigns in his own bad heart. Messengers arrive from Florence, and the Duke is sum ' moned from the arms of Nina to attend the council. Spinola is also summoned to the senate. He asks, in reply, " 'Wherefore he should go there ? To see the nobles yawning on their benches, unmindful of the busi ness of the State, racking their brains for coming lux uries." This description of the Genoese senators, which may apply with equal truth to the doings of cer tain senators nearer home, was eagerly caught at by the audience, and loudly applauded. Spinola, however, on being informed that Doria is eager to go to war with Florence, immediately proceeds to the senate, and vehemently supports the war policy of Doria, which is ultimately adopted. Doria leaves Genoa in command of the troops, is victorious, and returns to Florence, bring ing with him a certain Florentine lady and her father, who have placed themselves under his escort for safety. This lady is represented as a young, loving, and love able dame. The weak-minded Doria is flattered by her attentions. Spinola sees that his time is at length ar rived; as he himself expresses it, "The devil never enters the heart of man but when his proper weakness leads the way." Doria's weakness does lead the way, and Spinola encourages it. On their return to Genoa, Doria s con nection with this lady is still kept up, and at length he writes to her, appointing an assignation, and con fides the letter to Spinola. With this letter in his possession, Spinola seeks Nina, and in a scene of great power, but which rather too closely resembles the celebrated scene between Othello and lago, he shows to Nina this damning evidence of her husband's guilt. At first she spurns him, tells him 'tis a lie, a vile inven tion of his own, and declares that were she even to have ocular proof of Doria's faithlessness, she would tear her eyes out as perjured witnesses, rather than believe her husband false. She sees the letter—recognises the writ ing as Doria's, and, to put an end to the agony of sus pense, consents to accompany Spinola at midnight to a place from whence she can see her husband enter the house of her hated rival. Sinking from mental excite ment, overwhelmed with agony, she goes at midnight on this hated errand ; unseen by him, she watches her guilty husband stealing through the streets, sees him enter the residence of his paramour, and falls senseless into the arms of Spinola. This, which is by far the most powerfully written, and the most intensely exciting scene in the tragedy, was most admirably played by Miss Helen Faucit, and drew down thunders of applause. She returns to her palace ; Spi nola, whose motives she thoroughly appreciates, and whose presence is hateful to her, forces himself into her chamber, and urges her to administer a slow poison to Doria, with which he (Spinola) supplies her. Doria returns to the palace overwhelmed with remorse, at having proved false to Nina, and reproaches Spinola with having encouraged him in his career of vice. He finds Nina sinking under the mental anguish occasioned by his falsehood, but is unconscious of the cause. She says she is ill, but that a draught she has will soon restore her. She asks her husband to hand it her, he does so, and she swallows the poison given her by Spinola, but which, by her contrivance, is administered to her by the hands of Doria. She immediately quits the Palace, leaving a letter for Doria, which explains all. Doria, stung to mad ness, pursues her, and meets with Spinola, who, a la Zanga, tells him his whole course of vengeance, and after dis arming him, and informing him that Nina has taken poison from his own (Doria's) hands, leaves him writhing on the ground in agony. Doria is aroused by hearing cries in the wood, and finds Nina dying from the effects of the poison. She forgives him and dies in his arms. His attendants enter, and report that having found Spinola in the wood with Doria's sword, they concluded he had slain the Duke, and con sequently had killed him ; and Doria, snatching a dagger from one of his attendants, stabs himself, and falls dead upon the corpse of Nina. This tragedy, it will be perceived from the above sketch, although abounding with passages of great power, is not alto gether free from defects. In the first place, it is too long. The first three acts are almost totally devoid of incident. Although replete with exquisite poetry — which, however, was frequently marred by the sing-song recitative-like declamation, which is the prevailing characteristic of the Macready school—they contribute but little towards forwarding the business of the piece, and might be advantageously compressed into one. The characters also are evidently copied, not from nature but from other poets. Spinola, for instance, is a compound of lago and Zanga. The scene between Dona and Spinola in the fifth act is evidently a close imitation of the fifth act of the _Revenge, and Dfacready, as Spinola, admirable in the other scenes, seemed too much inclined to lengthen out the last one. The play would go much better off if this scene were curtailed. The fourth act, however, shows that the author is capable of better things, and therefore it is that we are thus particular in pointing out what we consider the de fects in this his first attempt, which, for a first attempt, is a wonderful production. Mr. Troughton possesses genius of a high order ; let him depend hence forth upon himself, not upon those who have preceded him. Let him study books less and the human heart more, and he cionot fail to achieve for himself a high place among the tiramatists of England. Of all the young aspirants for dramatic fame, he is by far the most promising. Miss Helen Faucit, Macready, and Wallack, were all called for at the fall of the curtain, and the piece was announced for repetition four times a week without a dissentient. The Quadroon Slave, a drama in two acts, adapted from the French, and produced on Saturday, is good in idea, but its execution is indifferent. A high prin i cipled ge ntleman in Jamaica, a member of Il s e a C e s l e o i n v i r a e Legislature, while possess in g every v a nti-abolitionist (F. Vining) , a nd the cruelties of wh. of ic . h his heart disapproves he sanctions from re eigard el t e o s d t pline. lie is betrothed t o a lady (Madl e. C e s unknown origin, who is likewise beloved by a young man (J. Webster), the very opposite of his favourle ss ed ri in val, an advocate of the cause o f philanthropy, yet flu . ens7ed by principle, and generally acting from sudden o ild consent to impulses. When the a slave, ntl- the ab thelition lady st wou and the generous the punishment of a young man are pleaders for mercy. Circumstances i nve rt this position ; the youth is indignant at the pre- , ferenee shown to hisrsiv.al, who is married in the course of the Piece , his feelings have been trifled with co by the lady, and conceives soon s finds materials for a terrible re venge. The lady, t h oug h her complexion is fair, and though she has had the advantages of a liberal educa tion, turns out to be aslave by birth, and the property blinded by passion, demands of the you n g man, who, her of her husband, and replies to the agonized en treaties of the latter, by using his own arguments. It t be observed that the disclosure of her real situa ,e a nti-abolitionist is left to the wife herself, lion to b... • s ~ne point in the charact er — a p o i nt Demoiselle Celeste. To ex and this gives tue fl eadroon Slave is which was well made by al.— tricate herself from the dilemma, th e of the about to drown henell; /PA tll9 bettet: feelinv young man prevail ; he tears up the ,...9e4n 4 e r a L a l ma given him title to her, joins the h a nd s of 'die irried pair, and the lady's extraction remains a secret. The pieee was triumphantly successful ; the freedom given to the slave produced a pletiaing sensation, and the curtain dropped upon the gratification of a phil an thropic feeling, which manifested itself in loud applause, and hearty shouts for Mademoiselle Celeste. Mr. J. Web ster played the impetuous young man with a great deal of judgment, and a vigour which is not often displayed. ORANGE OUTRAGE.—ATTACK ON TIER MAJESTY'S MAIL. (From the Dublin Monitor of Saturday.) We have received this morning the following ac count of a ferocious attack made on the Cork mail coach, in Caher, on the night of the 28th instant, by a party of Peel's " Orange vagabonds," headed by noble men and gentlemen. his as follows : " CAHER, OCT. 29.—A most frightful outrage and riot took place here last night, or rather this morning, on the arrival of the Cork mail coach. " A party of gentlemen, whe had been at the Caher races that day, rush e d ou t of the hotel on the arrival of the coach and commenced an attack on the passen gers. The guard was assailed, and the way-bill taken from him, when it was found that Mr. Murphy, of Cork, was an inside passenger. " The mob immediately mistook him for the Catholic Bishop of Cork, and commenced an assault on the coacb, commanding the " Papist Bishop" to come out. Sticks and stones were employed, and many persons injured. _ _ " Mr. Murphy, who is brother of the Catholic Bishop of Cork, and above eighty years of age, was very much alarmed, and endeavoured to keep the coach doors shut, when a rush was made to burst them opon—the win dows were all smashed—doors burst open—the doctor dragged from the coach into the street—his hat knocked off—his wig torn off and slapped in his face, and he was otherwise seriously maltreated. " The mob all this while was increasing, and there could not be less than eighty persons engaged in this outrage—most of them being in a station of life en titling them to be called gentlemen. " I learn that several of the parties can be identified, and that in particular the person who dragged Mr. Murphy from the coach—tore off his wig, and beat him with it about the head and face—was a celebrated noble man of sporting notoriety, who can be sworn to. " During the riot the police were not to be found, and the rioters had it all their own way. The coach was detained long past time. All the passengers were mal treated, and some suffered severely. Indeed, nothing could exceed the determined violence of the mob—the usual Orange cries of "To hell with the Pope," &c., were the watchwords on the occasion. I write this that it may reach you in time to use it as you think fit on Saturday. The people regard this as but a sample of what is to be expected now that Orange insolence and ferocity are in the ascendant." We have made inquiries as to the attack in question, and find that our correspondent is substantially correct in the account be has given us of it. Mr. Murphy was mistaken for his brother the bishop, and it was provi dential he did not fall a victim to the sanguinary ferocity of the mob. We have also learned that our correspondent is right in stating that the rioters were chiefly gentlemen— Orange Tories from the surrounding district—and that the principal leader in the attack was the sporting nob!eman alluded to by our correspondent. It is also true that the police rendered no assistance for the protection of life and property thus attacked at midnight. Where were they ? Had but an unlettered, intoxicated peasant spoken a gruff word to a " Protes tant" gentleman, meeting him on the road at night, we would have had all the district out—Orange Tory meetings would have been held—Protestant Magis trates would have been at their posts, for the protec tion of " Protestant" life and property—and little short of martial law would have been proclaimed ! The Tory journals would have represented the country as in a state of insurrection, and rewards opon reward s would have been offered for the apprehension of the imaginary assassin! Yet, here we have her Majesty's mail coaches—for there were three of them, we understand—attacked in the town of Caher—Lord Glengall's own town, too! the passengers ferociously assailed—one individual, on being mistaken for a Catholic Bishop, dragged from the coach and brutally assaulted—an old man, upwards of eighty years of age, thus savagely assailed, not by an ignorant, excited mob of peasants, but by persons of property in the country—men ranking as gentlemen— some of them, we suppose, in the Commission of the Peace ; and yet we hear no word of this violent out rage figuring in the police reports. Is this what we are to expect from Lord de Grey's " justice and mode ration" government ? HAMBURGH MAIL. STOCKHOI,M, OCT. 19.—An important Royal Ordi nance, respecting the importation of corn, dated the 11th of this month, is published in the official Gazette. It states that his Majesty has learned, with great regret, that the harvest of the most important species of grain, Wheat and Rye, has almost entirely failed, and it has, therefore, resolved very considerably to reduce the import duty from the Ist of November this year till the 31st of December, 1844. At the same time corn of all kinds may be exported to foreign countries free of duty during the same period. POZEN, OCT. 16.—The King has given his Polish sub jects a new proof of magnanimity and clemency by allowing young Count Marcsinski to return to his family. The Count belongs to one of the most distinguished and wealthy families of the Grand Duchy. When a very young man ho took an active part in the, Polish revolu tion, and after it was suppressed went abroad. After the publication of the general amnesty on the King's, acces sion he applied for his pardon, which has been granted to him. FRANKFORT,' OCT. 22.—A young Jewish banker in Leipzic having absconded with a large sum of money, his father, who is a money-changer here, has been obliged to stop payment, Half a million of florins are said to be lost by this failure. BERLIN, OCT. 21.—We learn from a source that may be relied on, that the envoys of Brunswick and Lippe I)etmold signed on the 18th inst. the convention by which those two countries join the German Customs Union.— Hamburgh Papers. dELOIAN V UNDS—Baueelms OeT. 30. Actual Debt, 2% per Cent. Rothschild's Loan ' 5 per Cent .........».« lOl Loan of Thirty Millions, 4 per Cent. 92 3 per CenL ..... ----Thirty-seven (1846) lOl% Loan of City, 1'232, 4 per Cent ........ 93 Society of Commerce, 4% per Cent. ..... 93 Bank of Belgium, 5 per Cent ........».»»..» 72 National Society. Exchange on Londe% (short) ........ 11 95 .—Brussels Papers, Oct. 30. AUSTRIAN FUNDS.—VIENNA, OCT. 23. rive per Cents. Metalliques • .............. 105% Foci per Cents. •••••«••••••••••••••••••••••«••••••••••••••••• 96% Three per Cents. ...........».».».»....».».».».».»» 7434 Bank Shares ...... ..... •••••••••• 1530 Zeilung, Oct. 27. HAMBURG BORSEN HALLE, Oar. 29, Bills. Money Austrian 5 per Cents. Bank Shares 1550 Anglo-Russian Loan lOB4 los Russian 5 per Cent. Ist series, Certificate Inscription, Ist Series loif Russian 5 per Cent. Hope and Co. 3d and 4th Series Ditto in Certificates Ncw 4 per Cent. (1840) B6 35% Dutch Actual Debt, 2% per Cent 50% Ditto 5 per Cent -- Polish Bonds New ticket - Anglo-Danish Loan, 3 per .......... 75% 75% Norwegian Loan, 1834, 4 per Cent. lt% 1023 Spanish, New 5 per Cents. ....... 1534 —* EXCHANGES ON LONDON. HAMBURG, OCT. 23.-13 6%.—Two months, 19 5. RIGA, OCT. 20. —Three Months, 39W. STOCRROLM, OCT. 22.—Seventy-five days, 12.:l. PRUSSIAN FUNDS—BERLIN, OCT, 25. Bins. Money. St. Schuld. Sch., 4% per cent. ..... ugg logy Prussian English Loan, 1830, 4 per cent.... 102 101) 4 Exchange on London, three months ...... 6 18% —Prussian State Gazette. Oct. V. RESTITUTION OF CONJUGAL RIGHTS. ECCLESIASTICAL COURT.-NORWICH, OCT. 26. and has This cause REN% h A a . s i. b o ee F OFT for f s o V. . s M om A e ßY tim ax e N p L e O n F d T in U g S : excited great interest in the fashionable 'circles from the known respectability of the parties, and their relation to the most distinguished families in, the county of Norfolk. Counsellor EvANs, Judge of the Court, after hearing the defence the preceding day, on the 26th inst. pro ceeded to deliver judgment as follows:—This was a suit brought by the Rev. Arthur Loftus, of Fincham, agai ns t his wife, Mary Anna Ray Loftus, for the restitution of conjugal rights; and it appeared to him that th e R ev . Gentleman was fully entitled to what he prayed for. The defendant prayed for a divorce, on the ground that her husband had been guilty of cruelty towards her. Ten witnesses had been examined, and it was his duty to inquire whether their evidence made out the alle gations against the husband. The most serious allegation made by the wife was, that Mr. Loftus had been in the habit of putting himself in a violent pas sion, and in consequence sh e h a d su ff ered i n her bodily health, and had been prematurely delivered three times. Mrs. Loftus had had three children, and it was in evi dence, by both suit and defence, that the first was born prematurely in October, 1837 ; but that it was caused by the violence of the husband seemed doubtful, the violence complained of being committed near three months before the birth of the child. The evidence of the servant, nurse, and medical men showed that the premature birth was caused by her own over-exertion the day before her confinement, for it was stated she went up the steps of a mill, was frightened by some horses, and slipped down in a hurry. The Learned Gentleman was satisfied the second confinement, though premature, was not caused by violence ; and the charge also failed with respect to the third confinement. Mrs. Loftus left her husband in Oc tober, 1839, and the child was not born till four months after. There was no pretence for with the violence of Mr. Loftus had anything The eighth allegation charged that Mr. L t o o e f his wife's room a few days after her second excited so much put himself in a violent passion, an d she was suffering terror as greatly to increase the , lev il L e T r intellects. This do s entered under, to the danger of a ffectin i , confinement, was that of Mrs. Clayton,who was a grave charge, but the only spirits, The medical man afterwards appeared out of tha tthe fever was increased,, such fever. did not appear to be aware evidenc e stated t h t hat support i ng ting Loftus i t any y arned Judge,. co in the habit of reflecting on . "tes that Mr. Loftus was . Theand the fourth curse allegation,denied the a per n ex ti i n s u te e n d ce th o e f sft;.enfearffloarirsb.irthlt;wthase stated, in with --Sion Mr. Loftus called his WiTP e, - , s°ll-4? interfering in , the filL/w- , ^ - , lnerior birth _ evidence, th4t on a nertatil Ouvp.... "MUM. in the maid and told hfr sho wM of .-. to her mistress, in the presence of Wi!1,.t.t .e ..1 1 1 A v.-- MORNING SUN quence7 she left her husband's house in the middle of the night, and travelled with a Mrs. Green to Norwich; he (the Learned Jude) did not think there w a s a n ythi ng to justify th e step of her leaving her husband. Eighteen witnesses contradicted the statement that Mr. Loftus's violence made it i m p oss ibl e t h ey s h ou ld live comfortably together. All the eighteen witnesses speak of his man ner to his wife being uniformly kind, and deny that he was in the habit of swearing. The case showed that Mr. Loftus had been in the habit of using some of the language described, and whatever irritation he might have had, it could not justify him. The Learned Judge concluded judgment by saying nothing had occurred to justify her leaving her husband, and he was bound therefore to declare that the marriage being well proved, Mr. Loftus is fully entitled to the judgment for which he prays, and that Mrs. Loftus do return to her husband. It is reported that other proceedings will be taken. THE WOOLLEN TRADE. TRADE or LEEDS.—The cloth markets at both Cloth Halle have been quite as dull this week as last, and prices are exceedingly low where sales are effected. This is particularly the case for goods of fine qualities, for although the stocks of this description are smaller than usual, yet such is the state of the market, that the manufacturer cannot sell at prices that will pay him. There has been rather more business done in the ware houses since the 20th instant, but on the whole it has been very dull, and there is a pretty general opinion entertained that business is not likely to improve for some time to come. ROCHDALE FLANNEL MARKET, MONDAY, OCT. 25, —There has been a very fair demand for flannels to day, though the market has been but thinly attended. Prices remain the same ; indeed there has been no change for some weeks back. The wool market has been more than usually dull ; and, on account of the prices giving way, the manufacturers buy very spar ingly.—Leeds Mercury. DEATH OF REAR-ADMIRAL J. W. HOL LAND.—This gallant naval officer expired at his residence at Bath on Tuesday last, in his 76th year. The deceased Admiral had been upwards of fifty years in the naval service, and his commission as Lieutenant is dated as far back as June 1794. He was Midshipman on beard the Queen Charlotte in Lord Howe's action, when he was severely wounded ; and in 1801, when senior Lieutenant of the Phoebe, took an active part in the gallant engage ment between that vessel of war and L'Africaine, which was captured ; and for the wounds he received on that occasion he was promoted. He retired in June, 1838, on half-pay. The Staff of the New Governor-General of India, Lord Ellenborough, consists of Captain Somerset, of the Grenadier Guards (son of Lieutenant-General Lord Fitzßoy Somerset), as Military Secretary ; Lieutenant Colville, gazetted last night from 85th to the 40th Foot (son of General Sir Charles Colville), and Lieutenant Durand, of the Bengal Engineers, as Aides-de-Camp. A gentleman from the office of the Board of Control, it is understood, will accompany the Governor-General as Private Secretary. Lord Ellenborough embarks in the Cambrian, Capt. Chads, on the 4th of next month ; and Lord Auckland embarks for England early in March.— Naval and Military Gazette. Lord Wharncliffe is suffering under a slight at tack of gout in the hand. THE NEW VICE-CHANCELLOR'S COURTS...- Committee-rooms No.l and No. 2 of the House of Com mons have been fitted up as temporary courts for the new Vice-Chancellors. Mr. Knight Bruce and Mr. Wirrram will take the oaths of office to-day before the Lord Chancellor, and afterwards proceed with their judi cial business. An American paper complains, that in salting down horses for victualling the Navy, sufficient attention is not paid to the removing the shoes, and that in con sequence the teeth of many of the sailors have been pretty considerably injured. THE ARMY IN CHlNA.—Several corps are ordered from the Madras Presidency, to reinforce Sir Hugh Gough's army, and the strong drafts embarking from England will proceed direct to China. The desti nation of the 98th Regiment was this week changed from the Mauritius to China, and that corps will embark forthwith. Supplies equal to many months' consump tion for ten thousand men, are also being shipped for our forces in China. DREADFUL CATASTROPHE.—TEN LIVES LOST.—BLYTH, OCT. 28.—This day being appointed by the Committee of Management for the lifc-boat at this place to have her examined, and see if she was properly fitted and ready in cases of emergency, the brig Sibsons, of this port, from Archangel, appearing off the harbour this morning, and the owner, Mr. Joseph Hodgson, being desirous of giving the captain instructions, she was launched into the water about ten o'clock, A.M., and manned, when, lamentable to state, after having pro ceeded a short distance from the entrance of the har bour, a heavy sea struck her, and she was seen by the assembled spectators on shore to upset, and out of twelve persons on board only two were saved. The following are the names of the persons, viz. :—Mr. Joseph Hodg son, shipowner, and Joseph Rinde, seaman, were saved ; and those who perished were—Mr. Henry Deberd, ship owner, Mr. Robinson Burn, pilot, Edward Wood, car penter, John Hodson, George Heron, 'William Dixon, Daniel Dawson, John Heppell, James White, George Tirrell, and Peter Bushell, seamen. The sufferers are nearly all married men, and have left families. Mr. Hodgson, the owner of the Sibson, saved himself by seizing one of the oars, and lashing himself to it, when he drifted on shore in a state of insensibility, but is re covering. It is impossible to describe the gloomy sensa tion which pervades Blyth, consequent on this awful ca tastrophe.—Shipping Gazette. Lord Fitzgerald and Vesey had a long interview with Sir James Graham, yesterday morning, at the Horne-office. Jeannelle Seh, a young woman who in May last threw a quantity of vitriol into the face of the young man who had been her lover, but was about to be married to another, a circumstance which we mentioned at the time, was last week brought before the Court of Assizes to take her trial. The facts were clearly proved, and the Jury found her guilty of wilful and premeditated wounding, with intent to murder, but added that there were extenuating circumstances. She was sentenced to ten years' close confinement and the pillory. When the judgment was pronounced, she fainted away, and was carried back to prison in the arms of the gendarmes. _ LORD WALDEGRAVE AND CAPT. DUFF. —(From a Correspondent.)—These gentlemen having completed their term of six months' incarceration in the Queen's Bench, in consequence of being implicated in the attack on the policeman Wheatley some time back, will be released to-morrow (this day). Under the full conviction that neither his Lordship nor the Captain had directly any part in the assault on the policeman, the in habitants in the vicinity of Lord Waldegrave's estate at Strawberry-hill have prepared to welcome him home with a procession and fete, to be followed by illumina tions in the evening. The General Steam Navigation Company's Packet, the Columbine , W. Nor w ood , from Rotte rdam , arrived off tlp-Ctistom-house yesterday with the Dutch Mail. MORALITY OF THE GLOEE.—Asusual, when dealing with Exchequer mysteries, the Globe has exhi bited a pompous inflation , and a ludi crous air of self satisfaction at its sources of secret knowledge. In an article attributed by some of our Contemporaries to an official hand, the Exchequer organ thus alludes to Mr. Smith, as if conciliating a witness to be feared, since there was no uecessity for referring to him at all :—" The sa lary of Mr. Smith was, we believe, 6001. a-year, which he had anticipated would have been advanced to 7001.; but his hopes being defeated by the economy that has been carried of late into all the public offices, he had recourse to forgery as a temp orary expe di ent ; an d from a sum of 5001., has been led, by those of whom, it is believed, he has been the dupe, to the enormous amount of his forgery, which we have above stated. Surely remuneration should be regu lated not simply by the few hours of time required, which has too frequently been the Treasury standard of value, but by the amount of trust reposed, and the extent of integrity required." A more profligately-impudent defence was never set up. What Mr. Smith might have anticipated , we do not know. In 1830 his salary was 5201. a year, since raised to 600/.—a not unhandsome remuneration for a brief daily attendance at an office where his labours were not heavy, or hi s task difficult. As for' the amount of trust r e p ose d," i t was , un der the old sys tem, simply the custody of certain papers, lA , ' r number of whi c h was s t r i c tl y limited, every one of -which he had to account. But, sup posing that as much trust was operly, of late seems to have been reposed, most y juitnart mind possess years, what a notion of morality must y salary" of which can plead the " low and higgaary dishonesty 6001. a year as a sort of set-ohff, te expecte . d when the But if " integrity is hardly to originally reposed as his s ervices," (filling mensurate with the importance Re.), what a state win g in and entering . printed forms, . pay (600/. a year) of a party goes to war ? An officer this country be in whenever_ she time "occupied with his on active service has all his to exposure, privation, danger, employed is not com mensurate ;" liable to be callecie day or night; and to and death, death, at ti,) , hour f I n d niggardly salary '' on pr o _ of h is 44 low a- „ - pend part lessional outfits ; " t _ 1 with lives, and with knowledge of property, constantly victory Exchequer, our officers, rusted often with a large amount - tha i N ts e e l l v f depend. According to li li i r lo es so an eh l d l Y ing f -if justified " (wonderful admission !) though not • t o k n e N n yh e i w ch p in decamping wi h secrets to the enemy whenever ' m?tr9sYuch part of the military chesstahicothßdelKy can finger, pr se ar y expected" to resist . the " temptation '' of doing so ! be Spectator. and still more pay is inadequate to their anticipations, ca n ~ will be attracted UNITED STATES.—We have seldom seen (ob serves Col Colonel Great Maxwell, interest the Naval and Military Gazette), a more oppor- LIEUTENANT-COLONEL MAXWELL' O th s ei T r NE work h towards it by the existing state of our relations with the United States. The object and attainment of the work yaple t as a a n nt t e h r is on o e f . is to convey pictures of the actual condition of all classes of society in America, and especially ra tu r n e e l as they present themselves under those most characteristic circumstances which attend steamboat and railroad travelling, and that public species of existence in which the Americans de light to indulge. When we add that its writer enjoyed every facility for observation that could be made to re sult from introductions to the most distinguished citizens of the States, the reader will look for—what he will as suredly find-.one of the most readable and informing books that we have yet had on the subject of the social life of America, and one that deserves especial attention and favour in both countries, on account of its opinions, its pictures, and its speculations, being more favourable ito the singular people it t rea t s o f , t h an Ilerhars any other that has boa pea to the world, 1 1 1 t % I