The Sun. — London, England, 1842-04-01 00:00:00

-->- ;day, 1,694 ;. and ea is the First, King d lost eventful of that were Charles the Fifth ki England, Sultan So ;her, and other great experience, to be the ario, and during th© orfolk, in the FitZtliall des of the puke were t arms over the grave, he York Herald cot wars of Charles I, ;oldiesOne of the Iv' round it, and 40 U LA R. .• Queen and Prince orniog walk in the of Wales and the a airing. s ty rode out in a he Countess De n ; and the Ladieslo rlyE Carol Cocks, arl ofine Warwick, oiseback, aecoin f Cambridge, and irr, Vibcount Caa- Colonel Be''l; eley Prince of Walee, re taken carriage Veimer, the 11 01 : a Hon. G e or g io ?.r Majefly. de out to• day, 'lt' n. [rs. Bouverie 10' the Royal di:oer ag. Partridge with gth portrait which sty's command) ce Edward of Saxe Hume, paii.roalif sit t o h er Majeiy, Ir. Tilstone, 311.. ;.f . Quebec, a D ePg. Amber Mercbaao, tanley yesterday 9t .gian Min rd ister, 3 ' n lan Minister tra'' he Foreign rnor of Newfoun:„i Ly at the Co loot', so received at n ; e ' ernors of Iran !A 1 i a . • % TAX, TERPOOL ORTEII.) LH-past Eleven, r'rs :1 4 ig of the mettlbe, eties in Live' . Clarendon- 0 : 1 sideration the V k the Chair, so d the meeting 05dr ake into collsigfr' e ct me tax would" IP. be hear.) As to a affected there fe of opinion. S°l property Uviyy .he proposed any oilier Itself, to be wer on the suleiir. , Hindle and w i t h Thollle'A (olverhamptOn , that meeting; he assistance 10 11; r views—to otss; osed propertY gd 1 a copy o f sir t was p r i n ted t° r addressed a ~ ) le 'etary to Lord h the permissioo copy of his l e t te tr then read, the Sandon could riro, subject, but 1', 04 , , el any comtnn O r ropose ,e res°4l,e If this meeting,iie' y in all probeiio nterest of Bui!,, O r at some lend ;he interests 0 , 1 11 to understan esolution prop'!" that this 00Jttips a with no We l t or —they did 11° ',4 1 c, litical views t' ' early, and trY elves:--(Hear' ; a. 4 it Sir R. Peel el f, : 01 ances o f j3oil emselves.—(l4o:l, would be uniugesi Societies to b e ,. of loubt but Btnlailiii o the tax. T he ° (.l ls uld be, how th ot ;elves? 11 / next resolutiofo ed, consisting °•il; Building Societo)oe ;Tess of the P c ,. to to ascertuirl embers of .13 0", i P rudent et9e`e-$;, or a comp let , as may appear !ding Societie.s' seconded, . rmed of two ety in Liver?: hairnaan retutiledtfr A X, ' THE stlX.ll -aneed toonertrobil .orkbouses, chwitias uthmity of afir ;rtain. portioas:", ally are theryt* 'ed to the ingeno, Illy, or onlY Oh, only 07;100 ePly I have iliew soon of yoo4 iivAd‘dr a the i nt '-e,re 6S ;itei nild be c the pure 0 P 13 inciPle h' ,P iterest rec vould be 5 n t• the rote inte me tion, the 1 yak ;es, &c., or . 11- e 5 um he rec I`p, --, LENT. de, bodies to 0 6 5 0,1 f, ;ham ou the ~ ,o ni on the 10,1' Iticl.„if tumerously , f , If otP;c, I)evizes, oi l a earl.,v, ve been .electe do Vincent, and ‘,,,jer Brien, Wyttno :pie;, )k, strea4 ; 1 !' , e r The /0601-004 00 already recci.t,‘'‘ijee :atrge public 113 itef Wrotton, 61 o '-iirtlY t which ges!).l' be: np Pilp, illhlrerepre• :onvention.„,tf;i: * ester, and- v fl3 " ;* . , .---- .„ a gill; tirryx-10 .. . ,! . for the settso 0 h ia , ord Chancellor, ,1,6 of P. y and gentryi viv )11 the splenaiti 50,e thrown o pen. .0 to and continued eo'ea Dancing connod with spirit till 13`of aneed. lipivar‘ls'y lid repast. Pal3cot o a nd was hePtili f 2 Evenilig Pacoe". ./ rnal qf .13corgesZo, lough vold, voLs ss was attende(lll:„. Infante Pon Car:;:i ;t son of the l'o!.`ii purest Legitiol',li their stations si,tfbe of the twn- bo do op at the ooo,lt O l e holy " r ate. - MAGAZINE DAY. BL i t, ! lack BL ulCn OOD'S MAGAZINE. I' s po r e „is quite delighted with, " Sir Robert give s in an article discussing its charac statesm Tory premier credit for the most ex anship. "In his financial propositions," . sh !„ l.l 7 chhi . see ` h r o efi N n v i frank and cheerful are his expo ! Fora , Tory is never so ement—never exhibits such " buoy wordstad alaerit Y of spirit ;" these were Sir Robert's whet, hlei entering on the question of the Budget • TO :s Proposing so me new pro j ec t o f t axa - , oe gUCli taxes always grieves a Tory, for he lizite,,dllBo their r ission as so much hard cash in tl3' taken te fi ner from the pockets of his own party; satisfyin g and number gives him ka tis o , eli ght, :for he is thereby furnished with his ventrepotent, wolf-bellied -- n taY be imagined, therefore, with :5 3 of eestacy Sir Robert Peel must have a non an income tax ! No more long, sour I's % r u g ,his supporters ! No more hungry cla tnealis Place or pension ! He will now have 'aßh ht giving them enough, and more than L 144 ier well-salaried district commissioners, blabs ea. uole host of tax-gatherers, will ere I k ro'iti ee "l iik e ver the face of the country, and devour ;`) praise , e a cloud of locusts. The writer goes Purpose) the Tory Premier for his boldness in Wr:lY selected the most obnoxious tax D i k4ll retl i m a ' i t is "painfully inquisitorial" is, we e tax, . '"e greatest r ecommen d a tion of the in al'4l) I It must ever be in the last degree W . ; otli qt . '' we chara c t er i s ti c th a t r aises it above kJ g in g liri s 3 P e , ei es of impost. And yet—notwith ite4uo'wledgetlent of its extreme unpo :y p4c,e w riter observes, in the sentence imme a:ra ber b, 4 f in g, "within' all our experience, we this one i n stance of a scheme for • been receiv:ed with clamours of ap this' true te ,',ue extreme unpopularity of a measure r.e are d' p l ; ° , l the popuThr approbation of it. The degree ; - "gated with it, in exact proportion to 's be eas sr Nl] 411 Which they abominate it ! Now if e 1%. 3r the case---if we are to derive e with th at which gives us pain, an ksl it % ors " clamours of applause " the scheme qtl sou nd 41 11 s—how gratified a soldier must be s th ett r ' l° gging, and what ecstacies the Bishop ri c h je t have been thrown into when deprived re , ovin g of Stanhope ! In the "World of 1 1 6 - etti are some severe, but just strictures on Fki t 'i; u tof -ere eoary spirit that compels us to pay for %14e b .kr wtich, ° our great p ings, oe ere er ected at the national cost, should be of q; gratuitously t o the country. Tne fol ier,;''.',wareasm is not undeserved by the subject 11 4 " or th e w ere rather suilprised, on looking over the 4 - ,Nrob,;, e , f t 2 ete and venerable Sidney Smith, the rt sot ti e ' 4ll B antagonist) of Ecclesiastical abuses 0e soli ails and Ch a pte rs only excepted), to find e ; l bja e rrY lett er t o A rc hde acon Singleton, on g qiel tlf St. Paul's cathedral exhibitions." It is ItO ha dsr t v f • fouls it s ow n nest, and the waggish ,14 tl;' 13f , St. Paul's imoWs better than to de e„armse on which' he fattens. " Caleb s t ,',l ( et s h - ,L a te much too exaggerated in its character. particular, of a Cambridge wine-party 4 . 1 eh,: a s 'Y overcharged, so much so, as to make us ji + ti ll rer the author ever really witnessed what e; t rz ok, "tak.en to describe. The episode of Emma t iVt, j I , I) Y . far the most striking part of the L f, is full of force and feeling. The Circuit is clever, but many of the d. 1 511„,, VI have been greatly improved by concen k,eli e extract from the " World in London" e t „ No 4 S , °f some of the singing-rooms in the mach upon :--- se .t°r singing -rooms above ground. But these N t titte; r t he bowels of the earth are excavated to il~ r. tPiv i , h al orgies to idle and dissipated young men . When all sober, respectable people are in t h i'f.lq-',"e musical in fernos, disguised under the Elysiums, Cider-Cellars, Finishes, and , ef t • ra tt , ; 11 11 ( 1 6 , 4 4 i t , , e i nce their operations late, and about two INC! 14 e height of their glory. The host, stir te,,;(lllartette or so of sweaty, clammy-looking ;lam t ,t (ll kb lY suits of - black, assumes the chair, and t) 7,l)ti, - '2 3 are absorbed in smoke, .gin, welsh-rab ;erial2kilt,•'l„ d conversation, the operations of the gith 1, 4 t ,"t gents., who are no other than profe.s -;74 • - ,, 14(1 Ic,,'"t,q successively, announced from the chair, 1/ of hammer upon table—" Silence, ‘ 1 , 1 1: t i . „ 11 1 30 4'1 ° 4 " Please, Mr. Lush is' going to oblige ;" • Lush, taking a preliminary swig , the "'„k 4 41 t i'ater before him, throws himself back in his t,` °) l, -. if ' t h .rtli n p the whites of hi eyes to the cell n'irlegs o l il vel ti!g u- the aid of Ap ollo, roars out, with N il of ste ntor, The Bay of . Biscay 0!" or "On 44, ,3; i t; Arethusa," the entire auditory joining 4 44' 1 ftsp e s uorus. Loud thumping of tables, making i Nii s r h g again, rewards the performance of 3 . r. 11 t e the worthy host hammers the table again, `Gi l l ; `` Order, Gents., order if you please,"—which understood to mean "order," in the Parlia. 11. b _` , i n s ense, but as a gentle hint to the guests to tOe. lore chops, welsh-rabbits; and brandy-and -I,l4t,ftko I ter this we are entertained with the announce - t 4 t i ., 1 41 the chair that we may expect a sentimental l'5„ el ,; 1 11 :181 at r i o cg s • Swipes, whereupon that gentleman, a. 01 1 " 1-to looking gent., with a face the of gin, trills out, " She wore a wreath ;et st r ° : s ome such bit of maudlin sentimentality, in f• oli o; it 's. After a decent interval, the announce ilt„ll.4,t "Herr Joel, the celebrated safflower ; "—whereupontil t that good-humoured 'll .l) lt ita l l'ii ri " a walking-stick to his lips, entertains us 1 4, 1 i n g with Itt itions of sundry wind instruments, .c?n tiCe to lkikicry of singing-birds 'from the night ka,Your „ :ten, so admirably executed, that, by shut ttlif.'''4 114 6 ;41 ' You may without any . violent ' stret h ch nett conclude yOurself in the shop of a ir df tlmpsing aa e „ : 't follows "I know a bank,' (rather §ur t4t'"l.lltus ifi'llacement that,) from the united pulmonary 1 .',1 4e % 9,1" i Messieurs Swipes and Lush; after which I lure t "s e merry Christ-church b ells " " Mynheer 1f hole ;07 some other glee, madrigal, catch, with br a we di , al strength of the establishment.. ee of lint consider it our duty to notice every . k i „ ; ). " ree,„. ; h don life,_ we should rather have abstained eceel e , --c tng the existence of these subterranean a -ver ns• No man who loves: music for its own I thi tl re i s ., relined or elegant enjoyment, can feel any ~ 4 1 )11t , ;' resorting to those dens, reeking with a fumes . li e house and the cook-shop. They are a e e t Z ' 4l styl e of places, and frequenting them stamps re tutyis si,. jet. The worst habits, the lowest , t herein contracted. , 11-B A 7 TLEY'S MISCELLANY. . t i t t i Nt l ',;,e3ent chapters of " Richard Savage" contain, k ti ,s4 - h. ." 1. incidents, a graphic account of the rescue ej t h Wilfred from the clutches of one of her k 4 1 . 4. 8 4 — ‘ ,"Is admirers, by - the hero, Savage. This Os i - ; en turer is now fairly launched on the world, tC'be; ~Jhst completed his tragedy of Sir Thomas d Og i te", e n which Mr. Whitehead, in his assume Iti - t biographer pronounces a very just ver- I‘'a,‘ speak easual - noti ' ce of Aaron Hill, this gentle- Wet 4 ' l " of him as " being a genius ;" but such fe e f act ; he was an author of very ordinar y '47 hii;:;_ough Pope, for prudential reasons, flat the title of " a swan of Thames." The 'ja r "' our Town, and his London Contempo • 1 Whimsical anecdote, whose object is to show 1--eyelt fie , whether provincial or metropolitan, are " prodigies of wisdom. For our own ca nnot take it on our conscience to assert t ,tlrtif ,ti Q l v er remember to have heard . or read of . any h Irt, dignified civic functionaries, who, in t IIN: 1 -1 . ;'egre,e, reminded us of Solon or IT ssse .t of ' Albany" ,is a song by Burns,. which, o,,ncilv for the prst time published. It is A7 1 ;1;•T affair. The'' , Necromancer" is a tale of n di_ Miss Romer, the leading . idea of . which p 18;4E6 eve been drawn from an incident in Schiller's . iitt o lty o ' e r . I ;ornance of the " Ghost Seer." The " Phi 'llol • - aione " is a smart essay, in which occurs ltk," tru ism Y :—" is usually acknowledged to 1, 41 Z t t Y is no sin, neither i s the plague ; but the • Cautiously shrink from the . contagion of e may go further, and . add that, though . lt 4Peaking, povlrty is no sin, in the eye of the tilp,Alab,„ °lle of the mOst agrant offences that a f man nd 1%• .r ; else wherefo, do so many poor men 4 (1 , 1 ' 4 ( ~,a Y from a police'-office to Brixton, for no • tli' e r tf oc ,' llt e than having been guilty of sleeping 11 4 14 ' ael -w ays and in the open streets? All vir ao respectable individuals are expected . t . ae r ri Nt '",, s f to shelter them, and if they have not, d it s ca lt ,"lat they must be "rogues and vagabonds," t s, _ l ata , e4 tir) k sß Pient. police magistrates make a porn of - 1, 44 their accordingly " Polyphemus and Ga: ittl a 3 ' 4 ° stuff. Lucki yit is short. The Secret ' ett'stittiter who signs himself "Dalton." . It is a 4 1 4 'i1 e , 1-11h us idea, and forms an, appropriate First t 111 r• omance. It is by many degrees the ,, m T os h . Velee t 7g and novel article in the Numb , er. h morehai}- t z a i, °f Venice" is one of Ingoldsbys u .t eiful ems and professes to be the ven Sha . kspe ' are's play of that name. It ' e ksl l ti t not in its author's happiest vein. George o l t, e k a , ark has illustrated it with his ususal ability. de: t he \ 4(1 ': 1 that the illustrations generally throughds th;lBa amtiMber are very ingenious, both as , regards st ai lQa Tj i eeution. "Hours in Indostan' are from 4 a T ittl tl n,. -14r . Addison. We quote . from this article I . M • ' es sive details of an adventure with a lioness, 1 h Y tl, (le t IN -e sufferer himself : Nkeh quartered • it high up the . country, commanding a be t , • 1 4 at least fifty miles from any . other Euro ' 4 vtit ) , tl 4l 3- It. o nly recreation was lion-hunting, which I tat h ,"`t of ( L 'nclulged in, and succeeded in destroying nu off u. (3 44, — " 3 a ni lL e se supe r b an i ma ls, which were here so 'T offbold, as o f ten t o approach our tents, and fle ag th ur provisions. A us "tuning myself one morning, well - mou nted . afte,, et t wi te 4. r ah, foll owe d b y a dozen men on foot , an d ~,'a4rllly di 11 unerring rifle, when one of my people 0 1 4 - i YI/I kin 4( ? ver ed the prints of a lion's paw in the if 1 4. P t t o , v Q`er which we were passing, apparently in_- f) 4 .S t r444 Tte, ergs a deep jungle some two hundred yards o t , i ,'llieLakek,, ( ''' us. I instantly dismounted to examine the ANTI ' and was carefully tracing them, when a N 04144, of terror made me look up. I did so, and rl34 t of me a ma,gniticent lioness, which had I XAmA AA -""% out of the covet. Not a moment was to belOst: I . sprang towards my horse; my syce, how ever, alarmed by the appearance of the queen of beasts,- had quitted the rein, and before I could reach him, the frightened animal was half across the open space. My servants had al fled. I was alone. The lioness was lashing her sides with her tail ; she was evidently medi tating an attack. I had but one resource left. After vainly calling on my servants to return and support me, I levelled my rifle, and, just as she rushed forward, fired. For a single instant I was not quite sure whether I had hit her or not. She suddenly halted, threw up her head, and gave a terrific roar. I was now convinced she was wounded • but, alas ! seemingly not in any, mortal part. She dared on me. Human nature could stand no more. I threw down my gun, and foolishly overcome by fear, I fled. In another second I was conscious of my error. I heard her come panting along close beside me. It was all over with the ; I knew my fate was sealed. I threw myself down ; the lioness actually, in her haste to overtake me, sprang over me. I heard a shot, and a piercing cry from the animal told me she w again hit ; but 1 did not once dare to look up as see how seriously. After about half a minute, I could not resist the temptation, the desire'l felt to read my doom. I slightly turned my head, only the least in life, and beheld the lioness licking her paw, through which a ball had evi dently passed ; the blood was also flowing copiously from her jaw, where my discharge had in the first in stance taken effect. She was sitting on her haunches in evident agony. No sooner, however, did she perceive the very slight movement which I had made than she sprung up, and in the next moment I felt her teeth pene trate my back-bone, while one of her claws tore my left shoulder bare of flesh : in the next, she lifted me off the ground, and carried me forward. This, however, was evidently an effort to her. Her wounded jaws refused to meet ; but still she held me, screaming, struggling, praying for death, tightly in her teeth, as she bore me on with the same ease with which she would have raised a kitten. I shouted to my servants to fire. It seems they feared to do so, lest by accident they might destroy me instead of the animal. Alas ! little did they know my feelings at that monient I Instant death, a release from the excruciating tortures I was then suffering, would have been the greatest favour they could have conferred on me. Thus I was carried for about a hundred yards, when, overcome by pain, the lioness dropped me, and lying down, began to lick the blood which streamed from my wounds. I could feel her rough tongue as it passed along thibitten parts, and tore open the tooth-marks. I could feel her warm breath as she placed her mouth to my lacerated shoulder. One gripe more, one single wound in my throat, to which she was close, and I knew all would be over. I even attempted to turn over to her, to offer it to her jaws. She placed her paw on the bare bone of my shoulder, and rolling me back, adding an other, and if possible, a more ittute pang, to my suffer ings. Again she began to suck up my blood as I lay groaning beneath her. My servants, I supposed, rallied and alarmed her ; for she suddenly once more started up, and making her teeth meet in my left arm, began to drag me away. Good Heavens ! I feel even at this moment the same agony I then endured. In recalling the tortures of that instant, I almost fancy I again experience the pain she caused me as she dragged me along, evidently bearing me towards her lair, to feed her whelps. Suffering as 1 I knew all this ; I read my doom, and shuddered at t. Twice did the flesh break away from my arm, and twice did she renew her savage hold on me, and that so powerfully, that she succeeded in getting me inside the jungle. Here she paused, unable from pain toproceed further. Tvvo or three shots were fired at her without success. At length, finding her situation perilous, and her prey likely to escape, she retired a few paces, and determining on one effort, raised hetself, and opening her huge jaws, suddenly bounded on me. I felt her teeth, but they closed not ; I felt her whole weight on me, but she stirred not. In the next moment I heard a human voice. I was released from the ponderous load, and lifted up—the lioness lay dead at my feet. NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. Mrs. rholope here resumes the,iistory of the ad ventures of her well-known " Widow Barnaby," who is now about to figure at New Orlehns, together with her exemplary husband, and affectionate daughter Patty. This is a good idea, and will enable the authoress to indulge in many a sarcastic and carica ture sketch of the habits of the Yankees, who are in no respect the gods of her idolatry . : , The " School mistress Abroad" is the continuation of an article that appeared in the last Numbed. It is by the Editor, who hits off the splenetic whims of a travel ling Englishwoman with much 'caustic humour. This lady makes a point of " hating every thing and every body she meets with." She hates " every thing foreign ;" hates the Continent, " because its so large ; hates the aristocracy, " because they're so fond of going abroad ;" and hates Dissenters, "because they are not High Church." Sterne in his " Sentimental Journey" has already noticed this nu merous class of discontented English travellers, " who travel from Dan to Beersheba, and find all barren ;" so Mr. Hood is merely treading in his footsteps. " Suit ing the Action to the Word," is a sprightly prose essay, and indulges in some arch sallies, at the ex pense of matter-of-fact people, who can afford to be laughed at, seeing that they constitute the stirring portion of the community. " Reminiscences of a Medical Student" is a story on the old subject of seduction ; the detaili, however, are well wrought up. " Phineas Quiddy"—Mr. Poole's best prose tale—evinces much practical acquaintance with the habits of the every-day world about us. " Courts and Court Journals" is harmless gossip ; but it lacks point and vivacity, and is therefore ;unworthy of Lady Morgan. In the series of reflections, entitled " Short Rides in an Author's Omnibus," there are several ingenious aphoristic thoughts. We have been pleased with the following pertinent illustration of disinterested grief :—" Cooke, the tra gedian, was in the habit of giving orders to a widow lady, who was once sitting in the pit with her little girl, when their friend, the performer, was about to be stabbed by his stage rival. Roused by the supposed imminence of his danger, the girl started up, exclaim ing, Oh don't . kill him, sir, don't kill him ; for if you do, he won't give us any more pit orders !' Her disinterested grief, like the gratitude of some people, was a lively sense of benefits to come." The " Earth quakers" is a passable quiz on the late predicted cala mity. A " Remonstance" is a graceful poem, and we subjoin it for our reader's amusement : A REMONSTRANCE. " No charm hath he of form or face, To win a woman's heart withal !" Alas ! you wrong him !—many a grace Fond Love can see around him fall. Yet trust me 'twas not aught df this That in my bosom wrought deray, It was that gentle tongue of his That witched my very wits away. For when, in whispers light and low, lie praised my form and features fair; My dimpled cheek's May-morning glow, And the gold sunset of my hair ; And vowed he ne'er had loved in sooth, Nor e'er through life could love anot! er; Oh ! judge me by your own warm youth, Could I do ought but love him—Mother? And when, as hand in hand we walked Yon wide and windy park alone, At midnight's starry hour—he talked Of themes to lovers only known ; And rising in his deep, dark eye I saw the gem he could not smother, And felt his fond heart beating high, Could I do well but love him—Mother ? And when from every lip, the praise Of his high intellect I heard ; How nothing e'er escaped its rays, Or said by sage or sung by bard ; And to his mind full well could see The homage deep of every other ; And knew that mind did worship me, Oh, was I wrong to love him—Mother ? PRASER' S MAGAZINE. The character of Mirabeau, who was the great pro pelling power of the earlier movements of the French re volution of 1789, has often been discussed, but seldom with more spirit than in an essay in the present Number, by a writer who quaintly signs himself Morgan Rattler." But ingenious and vigorous as this essay is, it is not, as a whole, satisfactory, for it takes much too favourable a view of Mirabeau. It represents him as having been of the first order of great men, and affects to regard him as equal to Napoleon in intellectual capacity. Now, this he certainly was not, and never could have been, even under the most favourable circumstances. The utmost that can be said of him is, that he was a bold, ardent, intriguing spirit, and as passionately fond of the bustling, feverish turmoil of politics, as ever was the Cardinal de Ritz, whom in this respect he closely resembled. He had nothing enlarged—nothing disinterested in his ambition. He carednot, like the French Emperor, for the applause of posterity. He was haunted by no generous, though delusive dreams of glory. His motions for action commenced with self and ended in self. lie threw himself into the vortex of the Levolution—not to procure redress for wrong—not to promote the interests of France — but to revenge himself on the Court and the Noblesse for the insults he had sustained at their hands. But for these insults, he would most proba bly have been found, at the assembling of the States-General, battling for the privileges of his order ; for notwithstanding his rabid democracy — which was throughout over-acted, and began to be suspected before his death—he was a determined aris tocrat at heart. Self-willed, haughty, despotic, un scrupulous, and utterly unprincipled, few—none — can respect the memory of Mirabeau, though all must allow that his intellect was far above the ordinary level, and that he was well fitted to the turbulent times in which he lived, and which he in fluenced. He is now nearly forgotten, or remem bered only as a successful agitator, made so by a burning sense of personal injury. " Something upon an Old Subject" revives the old story about Drum mond of Hawthornden having betrayed:the confidence .of Ben Jonson, and published certain conversations which the latter had intended as strictly confidential. We had hoped this calumny had been long since for gotten, especially as Professor Wilson, in one of his baunerous masterly eritioieras in Blackwood, had w•as, THE SUN, LONDO taken great pains to show its utter absurdity. But slander has strong powers of vitality=in fact, as many lives as a cat. " A Chapter on Dogs" is as amusing as usual. "Detached Thoughts" are trans lated from the German of Jean Paul Richter. Some of the reflections are shrewd, and subtle, and worldly enough, but the majority are tinged with the cloudi ness, indistinctness, and fantastic character of the German school of metaphysics. " Memory," says Richter, "is the privilege of the dunce, and rarely fails the :unintellectual." What dunces, then, Dr. Johnson, Sir Walter Scott, and a hundred other writers that we could mention, must have been, for their powers of memory were perfectly prodi gious! The following thought is sarcastic, and perhaps bngenerous ; but it is based on truth :—" I would not ue a woman, for then I could not love her." From Nimrod's entertaining account of his "Life and Times," we quote a racy anecdote The following excellent anecdote was related by . Mr. Ncwcome of himself. When in the act of composing a sermon, he made use of the term "ostentatious man." Throwing down his pen he wished to satisfy himself, ere he proceeded, as to whether a great portion of his congregation might comprehend the meaning of the said term, and he adopted the following method of proof. Ringing the bell, his footman appeared, and he was thus addresSed by his master : " What do you conceive is meant to be implied by an ostentatious man ?" "An ostentatious man, Sir," replied Thomas ; " why, Sir, I should say a perfect gentleman." " Very good," observed the Vicar : " send Ellis (his coachman) here." " Ellis," said the Vicar, " What do you imagine an ostentatious man to be ?" "An ostentatious man, Sir," replied Ellis ; " why I should say .an ostentatious man means what we calls (saving your presence) a d—d jolly fellow." I need scarcely add that the Vicar substituted a less ambiguous word, the schoolmaster not having been at that time abroad. " Notes Written in the Margins of Books" contain some just, but sketchy, criticisms on Waller, one of the most over-rated poets in the languag e. Dr. johnson has praised this indifferent writer, and worse man, for his mastery over melody ; btit he was, at best, but a mas ter of mellifluous sing-song. The remarks on S wift are too partial. There is little in the Dean's character to commend, and notwithstanding his extraordinary powers of mind, few, we believe, ever rise from the perusal of his works 'o+7o -a .:.. strong feeling of dis gust. Show us the inatviri - o - everlead " Gulliver's Travels" or the " Tale. °fl . Tub" tutee, and we will give a shilling for a sight of tite - :Thenomenon ! " Anecdotes of Actors" agkprosy •ana?,Xosipid. There is some elegance in tbe,tp t s to ‘ 4 ‘l4.lllanche," and to accordingly we subjoirtii, , ri 140ern You ask me 441, '*)t . ' i l. 1.. To every steanirn*ar:'l.7, Each secret tlioughtlLeach libly spell, That memory renders dear? Or why it is I care to be But as a trifler known, Though higher thoughts may visit me When with the Past alone? Not that this eye bath never wept O'er human joy or ill, — Nor that this heart hath always slept, Or that its pulse is still ; For all unchanged, it yet can beat, As it hath beat before, And still as freshly, wildly greet Each passion felt of yore. But when youth's fondest visions melt, The wholesome truths life brings Are mingled with a sadness felt Amidst Earth's brightest things. The wisdom each so dearly buys Hath much of coldness too, — A chilling, real cloud that flies 'Twixt us and heaven's blue. A feeling which, through all we see And all that years can bring, May be, perhaps, as all should be, A winter after spring; Yet makes us turn with fond regret, To hopes which once we nurst, Which like to sweet wild flowers we met When on our rambles first. 'Tis true we learn a wiser part, And find how hope deceives_; But what shall ever touch the heart Like that sweet Past it leaves ? We know it, and from feeling pass To be but actots here ; With women or the sparkling glass, Still triflers insincere. Yet blame me not, if now I seem The thing the world bath willed, — Whose past is but an idle dream, Whose wayward pulse is stilled. Each temple bath a holy shrine From common gaze removed, — Why open then this heart of mine, Or tell all it hath proved ? The rays that light the wave reveal No treasures of the deep ; The upper day . may never steal Where they in darkness sleek. Thus on the face a smile may sit, Welcomed a passing guest ; Yet on the surface die—unfit To dwell within the breast. AINSWORTH'S MAGAZINE. Among the contributors to the number before us is Lord William Lennox, who details the particulars of a curious adventure with the late Theodore Hook. He, and Hook, and Stephen Price, formerly manager of Drury-lane Theatre, set out, it seems, one day on a trip to Epsom, during the bustling time of the races ; and, by way of amusement, went into a small em bling-house, where they speedily contrived to pick, a quarrel with the proprietors, and, after breaking divers heads, and kicking sundry pairs of shins, marched out again with all the honours of war. The anecdote is well told, though there is little to tell ; and the specimens which his Lordship gives of Hook's talent for improvising, show that he must have possessed that rare, un-Euglish quality. in a very high degree. " Legend of the Monts-dores, by Miss Costello, are told with simplicity and earnestness. This lady excels in relating old traditional supersti tions. " Shakspeare "is a graceful piece of versifica tion. The " Play behind the Scenes " is a clever sketch of American theatricals, a little overcharged, perhaps, but still exceedingly diverting. " Sonnet written in the fly leaf of Isaac Walton's Complete Angler," is much too eulogistic of the virtues of this sentimental Cockney minnow-catcher, who under the specious mask of simplicity, concealed a vast deal of worldly cunning and selfishness. While affecting a manly , and artless independence of spirit, "cunning Isar" was ever playing the sycophant to those whose station in life was superior to his own, and who he thought might promote the interests of Number One. There he showed himself a truly adroit angler, and hooked several bishops, to say nothing of a lively and fashionable son-in-law, by baiting with frequent flattery. The world, however, has taken him at his own valuation, and decided that he was all that he represented himself to be, and it is a hopeless task now to endeavour to alter its opinion. The "Fight of the Fiddlers" is not one of Mr. James's most successful efforts in prose fiction. " Blue Stockings " is a sprightly poem, in the Haynes Bayley manner, by Miss Pardoe. " Strawberry-hill Revisited" is illustrated by some able wood-cuts. This is its chief recommendation. The " Miser's Daughter" runs its course rejoicing. It is one of Mr. Ainsworth's most natural and entertaining pro ductions, and the dialogue approximates nearer to real life than is the case with many of his earlier tales. We quote a minute, carefully finished description of Beau Villier's dressing-room. &c.: — The apartment into which they were ushered was the beau's dressing chamber—that part of it, however, de voted to the toilette-table and its appliances being sepa rated from the rest by a magnificent Indian japanned screen. It was furnished with the most refined and luxurious taste. Rose-coloured curtains drawn across the windows subdued the light, and threw a warm tint on all around, while the air was loaded with delicious perfumes. A very diminutive monkey, clothed in a scar let coat, and wearing a bag-wig and a little sword, played its diverting tricks in one corner, while a gaudily plumaed macaw screamed in the opposite angle. Choice flowers in pots added their fragrance to the artificial odours ; and a couple of exquisite little spaniels of Charles the Second's breed, with the longest and silkiest ears imaginable, and large, gazelle-like eyes, occupied a cushion on the hearth. At a table, covered with the whitest and finest linen, and glittering with silver of the rarest workmanship, together with a superb service of china, sat, or rather reclined, in the easiest of easy chairs, Beau Villiers. He did not rise on the appear ance of his guests ; but moving slightly, and graciously, to them, though with somewhat, Randulph fancied, of a patronizing air, motioned Mr. Cripps to set them chairs. He was quite in dishabille ; his graceful figure being enveloped in a loose dressing-robe of the richest brocade, while the place of a peruke was supplied by a green silk cap, very becomingly put on. His shirt was open at the throat, and decorated with a profusion of lace at the bosom and wrists. rink silk hose and velvet slippers completed his costume. There were two other persons present ; Sir Singleton Spinke, and a very portly . gen tleman with puffed-out, inflamed cheeks, who was intro duced as Sir Bulkeley Price, and whom Randulph con cluded must be the hero of the story he had just heard related by the barber—a circumstance which gave him a peculiar interest in his eyes. Meanwhile, Mr. Cripps, who, together with the page, officiated at breakfast, pro ceeded to do the honours, and twirling the mill of a richly-chased silver chocolate-pot, poured out two well frothed cups of the unctuous beverage, and handed them to the new corners. A sntall modicum of a Strasbourg pate, washed down by a cup of green tea and a glass of claret, constituted the beau's breakfast. Sir Singleton Spink took chocolate, picked the wing of a chicken, and wound himself up with a glass of usquebaugh. Ample justice was done to the cutlets, the broils, and various other dishes with which the covers were filled, by Sir Bulkeley Price ; nor did Trussell or Randulph come far behind him, notwithstanding the preliminary breakfast of the latter. Just before the introduction of the usquebau&h, Sir Bulkeley, after look ing round and coughing significantly, said, in a low tone, to the chief valet, " I suppose, Mr. Cripps, there is no ale in the house ?" "No what ! Sir Bulkeley;?" rejoined Mr. Cripps • staring as if he could not possibly imagine he had heard aright. "Ale, rascal—ale I" replied the knight, emphatically, and rather angrily. " No, Sir Bulkeley," replied Mr. Cripps, bowing ; " there is no ale, but there is toasted cheese, if that will serve your turn." Angry as he was, the knight could not help laughing at the valet's impertinence ; and a glass of usquebaugh, in which he pledged the old beau, entirely appeased him. The conversation during the meal was lively enough, and was chiefly maintained by the beau and Trussell, their discourse running an all sorts of fashionable topics, scandel, women, play, and public amusements ; in which as he knew so little about the matters discussed, Ran dulph took no great interest. In his " Notice to Correspondents," Mr. Ains worth'—alluding to a remark that appeared in The Sun last month—says :—" The peculiar mode of pay ment of the mortgage-money, introduced in the last number of the Miser's Daughter, is founded on fact, It occurred to a member of one of the most impor tant Denbighshire families, and at the precise period in question. This circumstance is mentioned, be cause the possibility of such an occurrence has been doubted by a critic in an evening paper." We cer tainly doubted—not the possibility, but the proba bility of the incident; and having done so, we deem it but fair and just to publish Mr. Ainsworth's un answerable reply. We may mention, at the same time, that the circumstance affords another striking proof of the correctness of Lord Byron's remark, that " Truth is strange—stranger than fiction." TAIT'S MAGAZINE. Mrs. Gore—one of the most popular and prolific novelists of the day—here carries on her story of " Abednego, the Money-lender," with unabated vigour, exhibiting as much freshness and vivacity of dialogue as if she had not already written some twenty or thirty fictions. The scene of her present narrative is laid for the most part in fashionable life, whose follies and errors she touches off with a light, sarcastic pen. Her sketch of the Maitland family bids fair to rival even the scandal-loving coterie in her best tale, the " Dowager." A Lecture on the " Poets who succeeded Milton, and preceded Cowper and Burns," is by Ebenezer Elliott. Some of his criticisms are just, and all are ingenious ; but there are not a few of them against which we must enter our protest. Otway, for instance, is rated much too high, and Dryden as undeservingly depreciated. Did Mr. Elliott ever read the latter's fine tale, " Theodore and Honoria ?" We almost doubt, for otherwise he could never have said of him that he " was a rhyming polemic, but not a poet." Then, too, we are told that " Dryden. had no heart!" If so, then some one else must have written that exquisite epistle to Congreve, to which his sig nature is attached, for it abounds in deep . and unaf fected touches of pathos. In discussing Pope's claims, our Lecturer betrays singular inconsistency. In one place he says, " Pope was conversing with his heart (such as it was) when he wrote his Eloise to Abelard,'—a master-piece which, because his heart wrote it, will never be excelled ;" and in another page he adds, " unfortunately I cannot feel its pathos, and therefore cannot make it felt by your We re gret to see Mr. Elliott sanctioning the old adage, that "all poets are mad, more or less." Never was there a greater fallacy. Our true poets have been almost uniformly remarkable for the strength, sound ness, and healthy character of their' intellect. Was Shakspeare mad, or Milton, or Young, or Thompson, or Pope —or, in more modern times, Crabbe, Words worth, Moore, Scott, or Hogg ? In the cases of all these eminent men, the judgment moved pari passu with the imagination, the one tending to correct and bring within the limits of propriety the wanderings and exuberances of the other. Poor Collins, to be sure, was cracked, and so was Cowper ; but they were not poets in consequence of their malady, but in spite of it. The " Furze-cutter "is a striking Irish narrative of the troublesome times of 1798, by Mr. Banim, so well known for his admirable delineations of life and manners in the sister country. " Miss Burney's Diary and Letters" contains some delightful extracts from the second volume of this work, which—so far as we can judge from the specimens here presented to us—is infinitely superior in interest to the first volume. In the "Postscript Political" Tait enters his most decided protest against the income tax, observing, " the country is already ringing from side to side with indignation ; and no man can paint the gross injustice and the injurious and torturing operation of such a tax black enough." The " Poets of the Day" is a sprightly quiz, in the broad reckless manner of O'Doherty. We extract from it a "Pot-house Pas toral," which is a passable parody on one of Virgil's Eclogues : TUE ARGUMENT. Smifzer and Smauker, two metropolitan literati, very expert at disposing of" brandies and water, warm with,' enter into a friendly contest as to their relative poetical merits, over a hot tumbler at the " Blue Posts "—the loser to pay the bill. Ezekiel Smudge, landlord of the establishment is appointed-umpire, holds the stakes, and keeps them. The disputants end where they began, and the bar is closed. SMIFZER. Smauker ! while thus our hunger we appease With—frugal supper !—tripe and toasted cheese ; Ere yet the alcoholic juice be poured, And smoking tumblers grace the genial board, Let not the voice of prudence be forgot, But let us settle who's to pay the shot. SMAUKER. Like Plato, Smifzer, bast thou reason'd well, But what reply to give, I cannot tell. Methinks, unless my recollection fail, Last night I paid for oysters, and for ale ; Not Dando's self could faster clear the scores, Than you, my Smifzer, bolted the Pandores. SMIFZER. You paid for oysters, Smacker, that is true ; Nor only paid, for you devoured them too. But calm oblivion closed your eyes at length, With twelve hot tumblers, each of extra strength, And broke from memory's chain one binding link ;- You stood the vittles,_but I st oo d th e d r ink. SMAUKER. SlA:zer, yOU did then hear what I propose, To end this strife, and liquidate the goes ; Let's order in the fluids, stiff and strong, And straight contend we in alternate song ; And he who bears the palm of verse away, Shall calmly drink, and see the other pay. S3IIFZER. To that proposal gladly I agree ' • So—waiter ! bring us pipes and drink for three : And our good landlord here, Ezekiel Smudge, Shall of this brothers' contest be the judge. SMUDGE. I does not care, as bow sitch trash I hear, If so be that you covies stands the beer. SMAUKER. Smifzer I begin the dithyrambic lay. SMUDGE. Mix up your tums, my lads, and fire away SMIFZER. Soft is the breeze, when Zephyr nightly fans, With wistful sweep, the cat-frequented cans ; Soft are the cries that haunt our early sleep, When pot-boys wail, and cinder-maidens weep; But softer still the verse—so virgins tell— Which Smifzer writes, and minstrel-packmeh sell. SMAUKER. I heard, like rain, the pensive tear-drops fall, In thy resplendent grove, lamp-lit Vauxhall ! When young Squalini, with her silver note, Wove the long quiver through her tortuous throat, And Scroggins muttered, as she trilled the ode, "If that's not Smauker's writing, rll be blowed 1" DUBLIN UNIVERSITY MAGAZINE, This Number makes its appearance'under the auspices of Mr. Lever, author of " Harry Lor requer," who, as he tells us in his address, has gained " the object of his ambition," in being ap pointed Editor. We congratulate him on the extreme moderation of his ambitious views, and trust that he may long continue to edit, and con tribute to, the pages of this clever periodical. His own story of "Jack Hinton, the Guardsman" is, as might be expected, the most amusing thing in the Number, abounding in passages of agreeable, unforced humour, and describing natural inci dents in a natural manner. " Maxwell's Life of Wellington" is an impartial notice of this careful piece of biography. "- Our Portrait Gallery" contains a full-length portrait of Tom Moore, accompanied by a memoir, wherein the writer does no more than justice to the inimitable political squibs of this unquestionable poet. In his humorous poetry, Moore has left all his pr( decessors and contemporaries at an immeasur able distance behind him. Sir C. Hanbury. Wil liams—Sheridan--Frere—and even Canning— are not for an instant to T be he e y opared to him as have produced two a p r o e li n ti o c t al f s o ci r u a i n b - or three brilliant joy: d'esprit—he h as p ro d uce d hundreds. The likene ss of hi m may be easily recognised, but it convey s t he idea of a much taller man than he is . The " Last Days of w r i t e rs. Dundee" is an interesting historiette, 'and the ac count of his last famous b attl e of .illiecrankie is described with vigour. In the diatribe entitled " Politics and the Parliament" a very one-sided view is taken of the state of public affairs. As a sample of the Editor 'b mode of narration, we subjoin his account of the well-known knighting of an Irish peasant, by the Lord Lieutenant, the Duke of Rutland, in one of his frolicsome, drunken moods:-- As Lord Dudley had gone to order up the carriages, his Grace was standing alone at the foot of the stairs, leaning his back against the bannisters, his eyes opening y y ov i e n rc f o ro m n e t b of him, b u t crouc hi ng i n and shutting alternately as his he ad nodded every now sleep and the wine he and t d h r e n i a i h f . orN E va x i a •d c , tl and the only p ar t o f hi s f a ce - the attitude of an Indian monster , sat Corny Delany. To keep himself from the c old, h e had wrapped himself uppercienphtiih3lem:,asstetrh'ise little clo ak, wrinkled for e h ea d, an d the ma licions-looking fiery eyes beneath it, firmly fixed on the Duke's countenance. " Give lIIQ your sword," said his Grace, turning to me, in a tone half sleeping, half-emit:Landing ; " give me your sword, sir." Drawing it from the scabbard, I presented it respect fully. ':bzob6 tosWis er • " Stand a little on, one side, Hinton. 'Where Ishe ? Ah ! quite right: Kneel down, sir; kneel down,'! say!" These words, addressed to Corny, producvd nf ) other inovernent in him than a slight change in his attitude, to enable him to extend his-expanded hand above_ Mis eyes, and take a clearer view of the Duke. " Does he hear me, Hinton ? Do you hear 'me, sir?" " Do you hear his Grace?" said I, endeavo - cuing with a sharp kick of my foot to assist his perceptiol is. "To be sure I hear him," said Corny; " r would'nt I hear him." " Kneel down, then," said I. " Devil a bit of me'll kneel down. Don't I k now what he's after well enough? Ach ma bocklish I Sorrow else he ever does nor make fun of' people." " Kneel down, sir," said his Grace, in an accent there was no refusing to obey. " What is your name?" " 0 murther! 0 heavenly Joseph!" cried Corny, as I hurled him down upon his knees, " that I'd ever lived to see the day!" "'What is his d—d name?" said the Duke passionately. " Corny, your Grace, Corny Delany." " Th. - me, that'll do," as with a hearty slap of the sword, not on his shoulder, but on his bullet head, he cried out, " Rise, Sir Corny Delany !" " Och, the devil a one of me will ever get up out of this same spot. 0 wirra, wirra ! how will I ever show myself again after this disgrace ?" Liming Corny to his lamentations, the Duke walked towards the door. Here above a hundred people were now assembled, their curiosity excited in no small de gree by a picket of light dragoons, who occupied the middle of the street, and were lying upon the ground, or leaning on their saddles, in all the wearied attitudes of a night-watch. In fact, the Duke had forgotten to dis miss his guard of honour, who had accompanied him to the theatre, and who thus had spent the dark ho urs of the night keeping watch and ward over the proud dwel ling of the Rooneys. A dark frown settled on the Duke's features as he perceived the mistake, and muttered be tween his teeth, " How they will talk of this in Eng land !" The next moment, bursting into.a hearty fit of laughter, he stepped into the carriage, and, amid a loud cheer from the mob, by whom lie was recognised, drove rapidly away. COLBURIV'S UNITED SERVICE MAGAZINE. The account given by an officer of the Nemesis, of " Naval Operations in the China Seas," will be found interesting. Some of the details have already appeared in the newspapers, but they are not so complete and graphic as those given by an eye-witness, who was present at the capture of Amoy, Chusan, the city of Tinghae, and the entry of the British forces into Ningpoo. At the latter place he visited a temple of Confucius, with a good roof, carved and decorated in the Chinese taste, with representations of English landscapes. In some of the shops weavers were at work on small carpets and rugs. They had looms, but no shuttles, and appeared to make very slow pro gress. Neither at this place, nor Amoy, did the English experience the slightest annoyance from the inhabitants. In the latter town the streets are paved with flags of granite in a rough state ; the houses are only one story high, and open in front, with a kind of cobbler's stall projecting towards the street. From all accounts, the people took no interest in the skirmishes between the British and Chinese forces ; and with the exception of certain symptoms of anxiety for the safety of their persons and property, seemed to look upon the invaders with perfect indifference. We regret that the editor, or some of his numerous military cor respondents, has not furnished any conjectures as to the state of our troops in Affghanistan, as the opi nions of experienced Indian officers might have thrown some light on the mysterious and contradic tory accounts received by the last Overland I\l6l. All we learn is, that the accounts remain without con firmation, and that there is nothing of despondency in the conclusions he is disposed to draw with regard to affairs in India. In allusion to the increase of the army, he says, about 6,000 men will . be required by rec ruitment, and that the greatest activity prevails in the office of the Secretary of War. o ROYAL POLYTECHNIC INSTI TUTION. This delightful exhibition, which so pre eminently combines the instructive with the agreeable, re-opened on Easter Monday, after having undergone several improvements and repairs—the number of ladies ,and gentlemen, who have honoured the Institution with a visit since its opening, fully proving the high estima tion in which it is held as a place of recreation and instruction. Amongst the additions which, have been made to the exhibition since its close, by far the most important, and consequently the most deserving of notice, is the colossal electrical' machine which is indeed an instrument of vast power. This machine is shown in the morning at half-past 12, and in the evening at half-past 7, and the exhibition is always accompanied by an excellent lecture, suited to the capacities of the audience, from the accomplished Professor Bachoffner. The machine, which was constructed by Messrs. Clarke and Collins, consists of a glass plate, 7 feet in diameter, which is put in motion by a steam-engine of horse-power. The prime con ductor is an immense sphere, 5 feet in diameter, and is of such a weight as to require a railroad for it to traverse on. The battery consists of twenty-four Leyden jars, presenting a sur face of 140 square feet of glass. Last evening, when we visited this exhibition, the lecturer commenced by referring to a very common error which prevailed relative to the production of the electricity. Many people, he said, supposed that it came from the machine, or glass ; such, however, was not the fact—on the contrary, all the electricity proceeded from the earth, and the machine merely acted as a pump, as it were, to draw up the electricity from the reservoir of the earth by means of the friction of the glass against the rubbers. The Professor went on to say that many people were curious to know what was the cause of electricity ; he would at once calmly and dispassionately tell them that no one knew anything at all about the cause, for the more they studied it, the snore bewildered did they become. He then proceeded to exhibit several expernnents; the first consisted in expo sing strips of gold and silver paper to the action of the electric fluid in which cases the gold and silver were completely destroyed, and nothing remained but the oxyde of the metals which might be observed attached to the paper. The most beautiful experiment was that of electricity in vacuo, which exhibited so perfect a simi litude to the aurora borealis, or northern lights, as to leave no doubt that those beautiful pheno mena of nature are owing to the agency of elec tricity in the higher regions. The delight expe rienced by the visitors in the course of the lec ture and the illusirations was frequently expressed by loud clapping of hands. All the other attrac tions, including the diving bell, &c., which were here previous to the close of the exhibition, are here still, and the institution contains an excel lent band, which is engaged during nearly the whole of the evening in playingseleclions from the most popular airs and operas. The only other no velty to which we shall direct the attention of our readers, is the addition which has been made to the dissolving views. These are very excellent, and are eight in number, viz.:—The Facade of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem — The entrance to the tomb of the Kings, near the Gate of Damascus—The Mosque of Omar—The Blisworth cutting on the Birmingham Railway by daylight, by moonlight, and by sunrise—The Viaduct on the same line by daylight, and in a storm : these are both very beautiful, and the 'ichanges from sunrise to moonlight, &c., elicited the most unqualified applause. The three following, also new ones, are very beautiful: Saint Mark's Place, 'Venice—The Doge's Palace Venice and the Council Chamber in the Doge's Palace. In viewing this very beautiful exhibition, we would recommend visitors not to approach to near to the curtain, as the effect produced, when viewed from a little distance, is much better than when seen from a nearer spot. The Institution was crowded to in convenience last night, which is the best proof that it is a favourite with the public, and we would respectfully recommend our country cousins who visit the Metropolis to see the Lions, not to omit a e- I visit to the Polytechnic. • On the 23d instant, about one in the morning, as a postillion was returning gaily home with his horses to the post -house at Evreux, singing the burden of the ditty of his celebrated progenitor of Longjumeau, his.mirth was suddenly checked, and turned into terror by a man in the middle of the road laying hold of his horse's bridle, and politely asking him the hour of the night , dis playing at the same time a pistol The terrified pos tillion having declared that he was not the owner of a watch, his accoster asked him for a small sum of money. The postillion replied that he had so little about him, that he was ashamed to offer it. The sup plicant, however, was so urgent, that the postillion re luctantly drew out his purse, and delivered it over. During the colloquy, the postillion had been invited to dismount, and the footpad having found 9 f. 10 sous in the purse, and satisfied himself that it was all the other had to wive him, not only per mitted him to remount, but even held the stirrup for him. Our postillion was on the point of trotting off, when the courteous thief called after him, and returned him the leather purse in which the money was contained, saying, he did not wish to keep what was of no use to him. A Madrid journal gives a horrible account of two recent murders at Valencia. They were excited by some of the provincial militia, whose duty it was to pre serve the public peace, but who a fortnight before had been accused of killing a man of the republican party. A body of these provincials, without any officer, went to a public-house near one of the gates, called out two per sons, and, marching them to a distance of not more than 200 paces, shot them in the face of a crowd rendered mute by surprise. The Fribourg Gazette announces the death, aged 68, of the Archbishop Ignatius, Grand Cross of the order of the Lion of Zechringuia, and Commander of the Legion of Honour, THE TURK AGAIN. We have a piece of intelligence to communicate, which ought to open the eyes of the public to the true character of the agitators, who are, and have been, so busy in disturbing the public peace. The Non-intru sion faction have recently, through their Committee, dispatched a circular an iongst all their supposed ad herents, calling on theni to avow their views on Non intrusion and anti-patronage—and intimating that, in the next General Assembly, a measure will be pro posed (and, of course', carried by " our majorities") for the disfranchisement, ecclesiastically, of about one half of the parish ministers of Scotland, whose pa rishes, in the event of their recusancy to the dogmas of independence and anti-patronage, are to be decla red vacant—and are to be supplied as so vacant with ministers to be appointed by the General Assembly ! Wooden fabrics are to be summarily reared in every one of these parishes, for the accommodation of this anti-Erastian and purified Church of Scotland.—and funds are to be raised, and a joiut-stock company formed in the fashion of the Wesleyan Methodists, for paying salaries to those new-fledged parsons, at the rate of from 1501. to 2001. per annum — and all this to be done by a set of men, who pretend, all the while that they are, and will continue to be, the Established Church of Scotland. We forbear all comment on this desperate proposition. The public may rely, with perfect con fidence, on the truth of the statement we have now made ; and within a few days hence the fact will be vouched by publication of the circular to which we refer. It is, however, of such a nature, that we feel ourselves bound to make the fact known both to the Government and to the country, without delay ;. and it remains to be seen whether her Majesty's Ministers will longer tolerate a conspiracy among the Established clergy, having, for its avowed object, the subversion of the Established Church, by means of a spiritual tyranny within its pale.—Edinburgh Observer. MESMERO-PHRENOLOGY. TO THE EDITOR OF THE SUN. SlR—Appen ded to your report in The Sun of Monday last, is a brief allusion to some mesmero-phrenological demonstrations at Manchester, by Mr. Croohes and Mr. Wilson, said to be reported in the Manchester Advertiser, of Thursday, the 24th inst. I believe there is no such report in that paper, and as the name Crookes is in your Evening Edition printed Brookes, I presume you intended to refer to the mesmero-phrenological demon strations by myself and Mr. Wilson, at some public lec tures delivered by me on mesmerism, at Birmingham during the past week, and which are reported in the Birmingham and Midland Counties Herald, of Thursday, the 24th inst. If this be the case, perhaps will oblige by the in sertion of the above in explanation. Your obedient servant, H. BROOKES. Birmingham., March 30, 1842. GERMAN CORRESPONDENCE. ENGLAND AND BRAZIL.—In the present year of 1842, the treaty of commerce between England and Brazil ex pires, according to the interpretation of the latter, which gave notice two years ago of this expiry, and of its disin clination to renew the treaty. England, on the other hand, requires its continuance for two years more, considering the term of notice as something different from the term of duration of the treaty of commerce, and from which the said two years are not to be deducted. It might be difficult to understand the importance and the possible con sequences of this difference between the two countries, without throwing a retrospective look on the history of Brazil, and taking a clear review of its present situation. Although 8ra,.7.il did not enjoy a better administration than the Spanish colonies, that is, it was impoverished in every feasible manner, and kept back as much as could be from any development that might give it strength of its own—yet Brazil, by its unmeasurable na tural richness, soon became a rich country. When Don John landed there in 1808, with all his Court retinue, the only circulating medium was gold and silver, and copper—coin so scarce, that it was quite in sufficient for the necessities of the lower classes, and at a very high premium. With the Court a new element was imported—a Court with great wants, and what was worse, fiscal eyes, which from Lisbon had not been able to discern well the resources of the land. The consequences were soon visible. The silver coin was deteriorated by 20 per cent., and the gold, which thus received an unnatural, much above its intrinsic value, left the country. An im mense copper coinage was then resorted to, and as this invited an enormous introduction of false coin, a paper circulating medium was finally adopted. In the short time of 14 years Brazil was impoverished, and on the return of Don John to Portugal in 1822, gold and silver had entirely vanished from circulation, being replaced by copper and paper, and the exchange had fallen from 84 to 47. It can therefore not be said that Don Pedro entered upon the Government of Brazil under very favourable circumstances. Dilapidation and confusion existed then already and were still increased by the war with Portu gal, and later by that with Buenos Ayres. Brazil was bent upon attaining its independence at any sacrifice, and one of them was a loan made in 1834, of 3,000,0001., to which an addition of 1,400,0001. was after wards made for the Portuguese loan. Thus Brazil at once became a prey to the European capitalists. In the year 1827, the treaty of commerce with England was concluded, the worst stipulation of which was that Brazil was bound down not to levy a higher duty than 15 per cent. on any British goods imported. - Now there was no reciprocity on tine side of England, for on some of the principal articles of exportation from Brazil England exacted as high a duty as 200 per cent. Then Brazil had its hands bound also with respect to other foreign nations, for though for the purpose of raising a greater revenue it exacted from them a higher duty, (24 per cent.) yet this served only to secure the trade to the English, and to expel all foreign goods from the market. Thus one of the chief sources of revenue was diminished; for under these circumstances Brazil could not levy ge nerally more than an import duty of 15 per cent., be the goods whatever they were, or whatever their origin ; and this was the reason why in subsequent treaties with foreign countries this difference was necessarily waived. In 1831 the Convention for the Cessation of the Slave Trade took effect, and by this again Brazil was a con siderable loser in its revenue, because previously it had been in the receipt of considerable custom-dues not Only for Africans imported, but also for the goods exported to purchase or barter for them. It is quite true that now there is exacted a rather high exportation duty for all goods going to Africa (we believe 25 per cent.), but this measure is quite circumvented by the shipment of the goods required for this. traffic to Monte Video, and thence to ,the coast of Africa, or by their being alto gether smuggled out of port. The Brazilians think that they cannot as yet dispense with the importation of blacks, for labour is scarce, and the land fertile and without value, because it has been granted in excessive portions, and no solid means to attract free immigration have as yet been adopted by the Legislature. Africans are therefore still smuggled into the country, and so great is their value, that if one cargo out of four is brought home, the speculation is a most profitable one. The number of negroes imported since 1830 is com puted at 300,000, besides about 4,000 prize negroes which have been put at the disposal of the Brazilian Go vernment, to serve an apprenticeship of seven years, after which they are to be free. The interdiction by law of the slave trade on one side, and. the great call for slave labour as long as no solvaasures for immigra tion are adopted on the other, uces moreover a dan gerous moral evil, since most of the public functionaries are obliged to connive at it. In the above there are briefly contained the main causes which operate against the welfare and due development of Brazil, and now let us look at results : The financial position of Brazil is stated in a few words, by first, an annual deficit of from 500,0001. to 600,0001., or from 1-4th to 1-sth of the amount of reve nue ; secondly, the Exchange between Brazil and Eng land has receded from 55 to 28 to 30 de., and in con sequence, the interest payable by Brazil to the British capitalist costs it now twice as much as formerly, and the British goods consumed by Brazil require for their payment twice as much of the present money as in former times. But everything has its limits. If things are to go on as heretofore, and that the English continue to sell to the Brazilians, without admitting their produce in return, these will not be able to pay much longer. Merchants well conversant with Brlizil compute the outstanding debts due to British merchants and capi talists at fourteen millions sterling, of which six millions are State bonds or loans. Thus far, therefore, the posi tion of Brazil, as regards future negotiation, is not dis advantageous, since it is to the evident advantage of England to grant Brazil more equitable conditions. It Would be unjust to assert that England had caused this state of things, or that it even contributed towards it ; but certain it is, that the treaties Brazil entered into with England, in its impatience to have its independence secured, have increased the financial derangements en tailed upon it by the above-mentioned causes, and pre vented it from recovering itself, which, with its immense resources, would be an easy task under a judicious and honest Government, comprehending the position of that country, and its own obligations. According to report, the diplomatic negotiations be tween the two countries are actively proceeding. Brazil has, nevertheless, from these circumstances, some reason for complaints :- Ist. The treaty of commerce, which confines Brazilian commerce, and prevents Government increasing its im port duties, if so thinking fit. 2d. The conduct of the British crusiers, who are said to have taken Brazilian vessels suspected of slave-trade all but under the walls of the Brazilian fortresses, thus offending national independence, and frequently ex posing the Government to losing its influence with the nation. On the other hand also, England gives these reasons for complaints :—lt says, the stipulations for the sup pression of the slave-trade made in 1831, have by no means as yet been complied with in Brazil, the traffic being still carried on actively, and in many instances with the connivance of the local authorities ; and what is worse, the prize negroes who, according to the con vention, were to be apprentices only for seven years, and efterwards free, have as yet been retained like actual slaves, and in many cases with evident connivance of the authorities. Nor is an explanation or excuse for Brazil difljcult to find. A constitutional Government is an excellent thing where the Government is in the wrong ; but who is to assist Government when the wrong is all on the side of the Chambers and the public ? It is even said that some members of the Legislature are at least indirectly inte rested in the trade themselves, which is natural enough, as they are agriculturists, or were returned by ,urists. What then can a Ministry do in this case ? If it opposes public 'opinion too much on this score it must resign, as has happened in one or two cases. All cry out, where are we to get labour from to collect the fruits of our soil, when once the trade ceases altogether? The British Mining Companies are all large slave pro prietors. On the other hand, it is a dubious point whether Bra zil would be actually a loser, if it were to give up alto gether that forced production of sugar at least, which it would appear the circumstances of the climate permit to be performed only by negroes. Brazil is not a country, it is a continent, and this con tinent, which is almost equal in extent to all Europe, was peopled in 1835 by only 4,500,000 people, blacks and Indians included, a population which at this mo ment will scarcely amount to 5,000,000. Brazil wants above all a well regulated commerce, and more particularly a better use of its inland navigation. Let us mention hero merely that proud river Amazons, with its innumerable mighty tributaries, entirely Reg lected. The foundation of such a traffic by improvements in such of the rivers as may require them would call into activity a large population now almost unavailable, for even the Indians would bring to market such produce as rosewood and many valuable drugs, which abound in the forests. The only condition for realising such results would be a well-regulated and secure state of the interior. Though the Province of Rio Grande, which abounds in tallow, hides, and hemp, all so necessary to British commerce, does as yet continue in a partial state of re bellion ; nevertheless the general state of insecurity over the rest of the empire has been much exaggerated. The chief defect under which Brazil appears to labour seems to be of a political nature, that is, a want of a proper system of administration for so thin and dis persed a population. Indeed, Brazil appears to be cut out to form the Roman Catholic empire of America. But this is a deviation from our present purpose, which, however, might become extremely interesting to Ger many should the marriages now under consideration be tween certain German reigning families and the Imperial House of Braganza be brought about. Brazil, to right itself, should be able to raise a loan of six or seven millions, and in this the assistance of Eng land might be of great advantage. Brazil, from its im mense extent, is also exposed to aggression from without, and to separation from within ; and in this respect it would appear that it could not find a better protection and guarantee than in England. It would appear, also, that all Brazil can offer to the British nation, is to put it on the footing of the most favoured nation. England, in exchange, might possibly stipulate that Brazil should t agree to fix a period after which slavery shall altogether I cease within its limits, though these were for a genera , tion. It appears rather problematic how Brazil should maintain its integrity, or protect itself effectively against • foreign aggression, for any long period, without the alliance of England. Should these points have all been settled, and peace and quietness prevail throughout the Empire, then that country may offer a favourable field for German enter- PI 'rise and emigration, but not before, for the prospect of one or more Brazilian Princesses being married to scions of German houses, and thus, under the above by no means unattainable conditions, an impulse be given to German emigration to Brazil has almost vanished, if it be true that these Princesses are about to be betrothed to two Italian Princes.—Al/gemeine Zeitung. GREAT NORTH OF ENGLAND RAILWAY. Traffic returns for the week ending March 26, 1842: Passengers Merchandise 344 12 10 £1,067 0 4 W. O'BRIEN, Secretary. Darlington, March 30. DR, REID'S LECTURES ON CHEMISTRY. Tho subject of respiration opened Dr. Reid's fourth lecture at Exeter-hall on Wednesday night. The learned lecturer remarked, that the supply of air to the lungs was comparable to food, it was, in truth, aerial food. The powers of inhalation varied in different per sons, according to their differential conformation in chest or structure ; but the great change produced by the action of respiration, consisted in the disappearance of the pure oxygen, which was the chief component of breath, and its replacement by carbonic acid gas ; so that the oxygen, in the process, abated from its original pure subsistence of 20 parts to 14, while the residue be came resolved into carbonic acid gas. No precise stand ard, however, was fixable, as to the exact influencelof the air in this point of view. A sanguineous system, with its vessels and vitality in full play, demanded more oxy gen than any other ; while as a minimum. in the other respect, miners might be instanced, who have the power of subsisting in an atmosphere in which a lamp burns, but in which a candle is extinguished. The healthiness of the millions in daily life finds its foundation hourly sapped, and progressing perchance for years in gradual ruin, solely from the noxiousness of the air inbreathed. The discovery of this evil has been one of the great master-pieces of modern chemistry : the impure and febrile atmosphere has yielded salutary and efficacious developments to Doctors Caius, Arnott, Sir James Clark, and other eminent men •, while one of the' profession had declared, so impressed was he with the strange weight of the conviction, that the majority of mankind spend half their lives in a vitiated and corrupt atmosphere. From computations made as to the quan tity of carbon consumed by 150,000 people, it appeared that 22 tons was about a correct estimate, which was resolvable into 80 tons of carbonic acid gas : the whole of London, computed at its present popu lation, he found to consume 220 tons: daily, pro ductive of about 800 tons of carbonic acid ; while the whole world imbibed about 500,000 tons. Pure air was powerful towards producibility of strength: singular instances illustrative of this have appeared in the manufacturing districts, in those buildings where ventilation has been adopted : the men have struck and refused to work at their old wages, stating it an impos sibility to support their appetites, edged and increased by the circulation :of pure air, upon the same diet on which they fed when living in an atmosphere impure. Dr. Reid next proceeded to dilate more strictly upon impurities in air, consisting of carbon as above, sulphur in variform appearances, and a variety of matters me chanically suspended in its body. One of the corn monest of these was in the case of impure sand ; a spe cimen of which the lecturer exhibited, which had. been carried on the deck of a ship about 800 miles distant from the African coast. Soot was, in London, an uni versally impure pervader of the air ; frequently he had counted, with the bare eye, no less than 4,000 pieces upon a square foot, and mi scroscopic appliance would have multiplied them still more ; at other times, so thickly had they cumulated, that he had seen the whole surface of the ground co vered with a thin pellicle or black film, formed by their congregated particles. A satisfactory experiment for the discovery of impure air in a chamber was simply performable thus :—a spoonful of lime should be injected. into a beer bottle with water, and being placed in a room where suspicion attached to the quality of the at mosphere, the presence of impurity would be tested by the appearance on the surface of a white and copious in crustation ; this is the best practical test at present known. The lecturer stated that he had frequently had impure air of all kinds transmitted to him to Edinburgh from London, and had detected the presence of this white opake matter in different measures according to the grossness or feculence of the specimen : that of va rious churches he had also tested, and a friend was able almost to pronounce upon the identical church from which the air was transmitted. according to the proportion of its impurity. Dr. Reid closed his lecture in opening up the subject of combus tion, lie expatiated upon the three several species of this chemical power, viz., that of detonation, or combus tion in its most active form ; deflagration, being of a more imperfect nature, the explosive particles not being so closely affinitived ; ordinary combustion, as developed by a burning candle, and finally,. slow combustion, such as the gradual and disintegrative process apparent in the burning of phosphorus. After illustrating the.qualitiea of hydrogen gas, the first of combustibles, by a series of appropriate and attractive experiments, Dr. Reid an nounced for the subject of his next lecture common in flammable matters in general, more especially common fire, and invited any of his audience, so dispoSed, to apply to him in future after lecture for the solution-of any enigmatical points which might stand in the way of r I their clear comprehension. THE COACH-MAKING TRADE.—DUTY UPON HIRED CARRIAGES.—A meeting of members of the above trade was held on Wednesday at the Freemason's Tavern, Great Queen-street, to consider and adopt the best means of obtaining an alteration of the duty upon carriages let to hire. Mr. Hopkinson took the chair, and said that tfie alteration it was intended to propose would. not affect the present rate as to carriages hired for thb year, but related merely to those engaged for periods less than twelve months. The present rate was 4d. per day for carriages with four wheels, and 3d. for those with two throughout the year, whether in use during that time or not ; and the scale they now proposed was 6d. per day for the former, and 3d. per day for the latter, when in use. It was a general complaint with the trade that they were now compelled to pay a whole year's duty at the rate he had mentioned for carriages used only for a few months or even weeks. The resolutions moved, seconded, and carried, were-lst. That the present duty upon carriages let for hire for less than a year is oppres sive ; 2d, That the improvement sought would be effected by a duty of 6d. per day (as often as used) for four wheeled carriages, and 3d. for those with two wheels, and drawn by one horse, when let for less than twelve months ; and 3d, that a deputation be appointed to wait upon the Chancellor of the Exchequer, to urge the ne cessity of the alteration; and at the same time to obtain, if possible, a remission of the duty upon carriages let by English coach. makers, and used on the continent. Thanks were voted to the chairman, and the meeting separated. NAVAL INTELLIGERCE.—WOOLWICH, MARCH 30. —The Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty have or dered that a first-rate ship-of-war, of 120 guns, be built in the Woolwich Dock-yard, and, in compliment to her Majesty's illustrious consort, to be named the " Royal Albert." This vessel will be built on a plan submitted to their Lordships by Mr. Oliver Lang, master-ship wright of the yard, and will be constructed under his own immediate superintendence on the slip from which' the Trafalgar of 120 guns was launched on the 21st of June, 1841, in the presence.of her Majesty, Prince Albert, and an immense concourse of spectators. THE PREMIER.—Sir Robert Peel, sm . ee his in Brighton last Thursday, has neither pa 4 nor, reefelYek visits of any description. A large been invited by Mr. Laurence sad lads eir Jane yea', or patty, hoirey_er,_ h f ad the purpose of meeting the Premier et - r eslae u c e Kemp-ton last sysiung.. .• •