The Sun. — London, England, 1844-02-01 00:00:00

............ AT )ectable, )rt, took 00,000 1 : lie Hill )ersons; alleriesf o'clock► r of the llowing derma" Twie— orre ernley; -clerk ; Ashton , SOf.t6l3' color erfevi pro best Anti cow' Ise.) y se dis- rking 'acing nv in )bden the r the Oh lpfore kpert o-~ 66 de. on of cod° 3 the rite r 6 23 vain del atop , brtb? Reid+ aleP nom' .beYt t tbe 'we° , Leo.? claof the 101 1 , iced -hat [UI - J DRURY LANE THEATRE We had the pleasure of again witnessing Mr. Charles Sean's performance of Richard lIL, at this theatre last e% ening, a,a , l Ce-,t - Lainly, in the prese:lt day, the stage does not possess his equal. His cone-ptiou of tied cha racter islperfect. Richard is a fated being, and towards the close of his career he becomes more than ever sensi ble that destiny is more powerful than he; but, unlike Macbeth who is weighed down to the earth by the weight of his destiny, and loses all decision of character or firmness of purpose, Richard wrestles boldly with his fate to the last, strives to be the master of circum stances instead of their slave, and thus, although feared and hated, is respected for his indomitable courage even by his enemies. Mr. Charles Kean, it is evident, thus conceives the character of Richard, and his delineation of it ismasterly. Admirably did he act the scene with the young Princes. The sense of his deformity hung upon him like an incubus, it was evident that he was agonised by the sneers of his little nephew Richard of York, and most truthfully did he delineate by tone, by gesture, and by look, the morbid sensitiveness of one touched to the quick;yet striving to hide the wound which is rankling in his heart's core. As he proceeds he warms in the part. His destiny, at first darkly shadowed forth, becomes more horribly destinct to his mental vision after he has attained the throne. He remembers Henry the Sixth's prophecies, and feels that his star is fated to succumb to that of Richmond; but, unlike Macbeth, he gives not way to despair, waits not to be baited in his den, he is up and stirring; and although for an instant Richard may give way to misgivings, he is speedily himself againt Nothing could be finer than Charles Kean's manner of giving the tent scene. It was perfect—equal to his father's, and that is the highest praise that can be bestowed upon any actor, for the world never saw Edmund Kean's superior. His dying scene was also magnificently given. It was full of genius throughout. After he has been twice thrust through by Richmond, he still rushes on to the fight ; he raises his sword to cut his adversary down—the weight of the sword is too great for his palsied arm—it drags the arm back, but still he retains his grasp. Never was the struggle between mental energy and physical weakness more beautifully exemplified.. He concentrates his" whole re maining force—the arm obeys the mind—the sword is again his servant—he aims ..a blow at his - adversary, and, exhaustedhy the effort, falls dead. He was ad mirably supported by Hudson, as Richmond. Mr. Hudson is incomparably the best Richmond that we ever remember to have seen. His elocution was beau= tiful—his action graceful—and there was a soldier-like freedom, a gallant bearing in his manner that spoke of one whose lire had been passed in courts and camps, a brave and open-hearted soldier, the soul of honour and of courtesy, a chevalier sans pear, sans reproche. No ex pense has been spared in putting the play upon the stage ; the costumes are gorgeous, yet most critically correct the arms are those of the period ; and, look ing at the groups of billmen and archers, the banners and standards, the nobles and the retainers, we can al most fancy we see the.figures in some richly-illuminated old manuscript, Walking from off the vellum, and strut ting and fretting their hour upon the stage. The marching of Richmond's troops across the bridge, and their subsequent deploying, was managed with • great military skill, and the battle of Bosworth Field .Was admirably delineated. The appearance of the field after the fight, covered with the dying and the dead, With fragments of armour, and broken blades, was pic turesque in the extreme, and conveyed a more correct idea of what we imagine a battle-field must be " when the fight is o'er " than anything we have ever seen. The house, as might be expected, was crowded to excess ,in every part. Not only has Mr. • Bunn commanded success • during his present theatrical campaign, but he las done more—he has richly deserved it. ASTLgY'S THEATRE. - Great praise . is due to Mr. Batty for his admirable manage- Ment of this theatre, not only with respect to the scenery, dresses, and decorations, but especially for the variety of the entertainments. Crowds nightly assemble to adMire those Wondrous feats of horsemanship, so ably performed alike by steed and rider—to laugh at the frolics of Clown and Pante -I°oll, and view Tam o' Shanter watching the gambols of the midnight fairies, even as when drawn by the pen of Burns— but above all, to behold this magic stage "revive the spirits of the mighty dead," and recal those stirring scenes which il lumine the commencement of this century. The Battle of Waterloo is a theme which ever finds an echo in the heart of a Briton, and calls to his cheek the honest glow of patriotism and delight. Not only do we behold the .crowds of British faces kindling with joy at the remembrance of their victory, but we witness a far higher and nobler senti- Ment, we see them applauding the acts of an enemy. Napo ' -.eon, he who while he lived was, if possible, hated in Eng ' even as he was loved in France ; he whose mule was once the watchword of battle and de struction, now walks the English stage amid th Plaudits of his former enemies. When he exclaimed that all must own he was called to the throne by the voice of the nation, thunders of applause proclaimed the sympathy. o f a British audience with the power of the People—when 1, gave the cross of honour to the Highlander refusing to oet,r his country—when he declared, though he believed in -es lblY, he depended on himself—and when he confessed the • v' ra geintrepidity 'and of his foemen, again and again the I ,_ of the audience illustrated the proverb, " The brave caa never hate the brave." Though the renowned Waterloo Was b ut a stage, though Gomersall and not Napoleon stood the re, though the audience comprised but a few out of mil hone, yet their conduct is a sample of the feeling of this. country towards him whom she vanquished in the fiel d and towards whom, alas she neglected to extend the cle mency worthy alike of herself and him. So it ever is with 'genius, in life thwarted, opposed, .and hated. "But when his b a rk is buried deep, ' -WiU envy be the first to weep." In the cold tomb that incloses the remains of the hero lies tliried all the animosity of England, and now she only feels tAdmiration for his genius and respect for his memory. We 'again repeat that great praise is due to Mr. Batty for thus exciting enthuiiaspa and awaking remembrance. We heartily wish him all the success'he deserves—'twere unnecessary to • -,wish 14131 more. [ADVERTISEMENT.] THREE SUPPLEMENTS GRATIS, • . WITH THE "DISPATCH." GREAT NATIONAL TRIAL AT DUBLIN. The immense size of THE WEEKLY DISPATCH h as, hitherto, enabled its Proprietors on all occasions to present a copious, and, at. the same time, interesting account of the events of each week. It is, however, now found utterly impossible to Rite anything like a faithful report of the Trial of Mr. O'Con !le" and his Repeal associates, without excluding a great mass of interesting domestic and foreign intelligence - the Proprietors, l iker efore, feel that their jo urna l, w hi c h h as been for years, and is b sw, honoured with more patronage th an an y o th er i n ex ;ls.tnce, should be, in all respects, complete ; and, with that ?cw, they intend to insert a summary of the proceedings ur icr the progress of the trial in their usual columns, and Present to their friends and subscribers Which • 'THREE SUPPLEMENTS. GRATIS, .will be published in the following order, viz. The Columns. .first on SUNDAY NEXT, February 4, • setlntaining Mr. Sheil's speech, which may be 16 tousidered the gem of oratory, Sixteen columns The second, the FULL SIZE of the' wE EKLy DISPATCH, on the Sunday suc t e h e etll e s ug .the delivery of the Verdict, containing Paeches of Mr. O'Connell, Sir C. O'Logh rsln, the Attorney-General, and other leading I r unsol ; together with the SuMming up of the 48 o rge, th e Verdict of the Jury, and other matters i tiPartance that may arise up to the latest (41 e, for which the services of several short-hand :'.ltera of eminence have been engaged, Forty '43ht columns .11'he,third on the Sunday following (also of the size of THE WEEKLY DISPATCH) r_llieh form the early portion of the trial, and Zbrace the proceedings from the commence . a pat to that- stage at which the first begins ; b i that every subscriber to THE WEEKLY 48 • • N.ZPATCII will be in possession of a coin tpfr - .and faithful report of this great national h ist --a trial which must become a nutter of ~ .4t e rn ix3 r, and ever be regarded as an event of no y importance in after time 112 4L BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF MR. O'CON t7 will precede the account of the Trial, which . will : writte n by a gentleman intimately acquainted with the r n t te at Agitator," and consequently one who has treasured up s e r eminiscences that will render the Biography a paper of tieral and , absorbing interest. C ol he Three Supplements, forming One Hundred and Twelv im,1 441111 , will be printed uniformly with THE DISPATCH ~ol q ontain a quantity of matter equal to a t l eas t an oc t al ' Gt 600 pages. Iea, I . Re END/ARy FIRE NEAR leswica.--Intelligenee ‘ ll — , 'Led town yesterday, that shortly after eleven o'clock on fa rrn s daY night some stacks of _wh ea t were se t fi re to in a Tr , Yard at Winham, nine miles from Ipswich, and which ah, t° - : lnu llicated to farm-house and other buildings. The — "nut of damage is at present unknown._ ltr, . t w . -aJE STS. - -SUDDEN DEATHS.—On Tuesday last of °thlncitiests were held before Mr. W ch akl ele e e y a, , L o d i e ed. House, College-place,. M on .P v " i a ew t oef sign kes ea of Mrs. Frances BaillieadThr l • 15031, late master shipwright at Dockyard, as o F u ° th rdernaw i i ill. of whose deaths suddenly to f ok eae p h lac o e th w ei i r t . hin m a ar f t e h w a .13, ii ,, , and within a -few doors leofitil trs, tie, a single woman, said she of sisteaar v„,‘"naraed deceased (Mrs. Baillie), who_,W.. ininlahwerof44ththe (who is a a nd who resided in Whitehead s grove, Chelsea. 2" 3 ', with the deceased 'and her husband • P• a ` u m. aker) had been out on the previous afternoon .toth to e kitlilit/co, anereturned home about ten. They want ' in in the 1,-ace,"en, where deceased began to complain •of p 4 of her head, and seemed to wish to lie wn a - .. al n u S i li ia e bthee i,iiir ranch worse and was Placed upon-ac llshio at two ' 1,, 1511 ,_• A medical man was called in; but she died 'a t \-i - ,i' e __L e • Mr. John Baillie, husband' of the deceased, gave Th. !' e to the same effect ; the attack was apoplectie. IlerllllrY returned a verdict of Natural Death. Miss . Sarah giving her v•a'ma (who . was deeply affected whilst 7,e'enee) said she had residedPelham_ (Ace, Brompton, and that the second-named deceased 1 "las Vorder Hawkes, Esq.) was her uncle, who had Iv 0 r esided in Pelham-place, but at the time of his death ,f 4 209 Whitehead's-grove, Chelsea, whither he had gone or at 11,_ ange of air. Deceased had been master-shipwright at• szlouth Dockyard. He was seventy years of age. On t alkin g evening last he was in his arm-chair, and whilst ka. ,,ing . to her he gasped, fell back, and became very ill. She t 'e hi some restoratives, and then ran out and asked. two e.°Ya tomgo for a doctor. Ten minutes before his death de ,7laed. co mplained of a pain in his side. He had taken some ;I',.`',eaicine that day, and appeared much better. Deceased was 11"/Modead before medical assistance arrive& Mr. Perkins, li a r , said he had no doubt deceased had died from aneu 41iieaotrhswonsie r o et th ori er ie dis d. ease of the heart. A verdict of natu -I.r • Charles N o di er, n distinguished member of the /411 'i r e d ll Aca delnY, and chief libr ar i an o f t h e arsenal, died .011 ISI, N'Y morning, of c onsumpt i on, in hls sixty-fourth year. °viler's death makes a dun' vacancy in the 4%610Y' . , MA AY BLACKWOOD'S MAGAZINE. Mr. Jese.'s late amusing work on "Goorp Selwyn and his Contemporaries furnishes the subject of an intelligent critical notice in this month's Number of Blackwood. The. Reviewer pourtrays Selwyn's cha racter with much accuracy, but makes no mention of the fact that, with all his" acknowledged readi ness at repartee, he was apt is at times to be a prodigious bore, and in old age was as much avoided, as he had once been courted by the mercurial spirits of his day. We do not at all wonder at this, for many of George's best jokes were studied, and he had a trick of drawling them out in a very prosy fashion. Moreover, he was nothing but a wit, and was limited to a degree in the range of his conversational powers. The Reviewer asserts that one of Selwyn's chosen friends was Sheridan, but this is not the case, for, in the first place, he regarded him as a parvenu, and, secondly, he was jealous of his wit and drollery, the fame of which was fast eclipsing his own. We ex tract from this sketchy criticism a passing notice of the Miss Gunnings—the celebrated beauties of the days of George the Second:— _ _ To the astonishment, and perhaps to the envy, of the fashionable world, those two unportioned young women made the most splendid matches of the season. The Duke of Hamilton fell in love with the younger at a masquerade, and made proposals to her. The marriage was to take place within some months ; but his passion was so vehement, that in two nights after he insisted on marrying her at the moment. Walpole tells us that he sent for a clergyman, who however refused to marry them without license or ring. At this period marriages were frequently performed in a very unceremonious and unbecoming manner. From the laxity of the law, they were performed at all hours, fre quently in private houses, and sometimes even in gaols, by pretended clergymen. The law, however, was subsequently and properly reformed. The Duke and Duchess are said to have been married with a curtain-ring, at half-past tweNT at night, at May-fair Chapel. This precipitated the marriage of Lord Coventry, a personage of a rave stamp, but who had long paid attention to the elder sister Maria.- He married her about three weeks after. Except that we are accus tomed to hear of the frenzy which seizes people in the name of fashion, we should scarcely believe the effect which those two women, handsome as they were, continued to pro duce. On the Duchess of Hamilton's presentation at Court on her marriage, the crowd was immense ; and so great was the curiosity, that the courtly multitude got" on the chairs and tables to look at her. Mobs gathered round their doors to see them get into their chairs ; people crowded early to the theatres when they heard they were to be there. Lady Coventry's shoemaker is said to have made a fortune by sell ing patterns of her shoe ; and on the Duchess's going to Scotland, several hundred people walked about all night round the inn where she slept, on the Yorkshire road, that they might have a view of her as she went off next morning. Yet they appear to have been strangely neglected in their edu cation ; good-humoured and good-naturedundoubtedly, but little better than hoydens after all. Lord Down met Lord and Lady Coventry at. Calais, and (tiered to send her Lady ship a tent-bed, for fear of bugs at the inn. "Oh dear ! ' said she, " I had rather be bit to death than lie one night from my dear Cow." She is, however, memorable for one etourderie, which amused the world greatly. Old George 11., conversing with her on the dulness of the season, expressed a regret that there had been no masquerades during the year, the handsome rustic answered him, that she had seen sights enough, and only one she wanted to see now was—" a coro nation." The King, however, had the good sense to laugh, and repeated it good-humouredly to his circle at supper. Lady Coventry died a few years after of consumption, at the age of twenty-seven: It was said that her death was has tened by the habit of using white lead as a paint, the fashion able custom of the time." - " The Heretic " is a review of a translation of a Russian novel of that name that has lately appeared in print. It is carefully written, and the extracts are numerous and well-selected. The'" Prophecy of the Twelve Tribes " - is a short poem, which evinces no in considerable grace and strength of versification. It is signed " Havilah," and reminds us of Doctor Croly's manner. " A Bewailment from Bath" is a mock complaint by a spinster of the superior attention paid to married women in England, and the neglect with which old maids are treated. " Secession from the Church of Scotland "- is as uninviting and hackneyed as its subject, which is saying a great deal for it. " Sitting for a Portrait" is an entertaining and sensible com munication from the pen of a frequent con tributor to this Magazine, who invariably ad dresses himself to a fictitious friend, whom he quaintly styles Eusebius. In the present chapters of " Mar ston ; or, the Memoirs of a Statesman," we meet with some graphic descriptions of the invasion of France, in 1793, by the Duke of Brunswick—whose military: . and diplomatic talents are absurdly overrated —and of the subsequent disastrous retreat of the allied armies. The tale improves greatly in interest as it proceeds. BENTLEY'S MISCELLANY. Mr. Murray's metropolitan sketches, under the title of " Physiology of London Life," are happily adapted for the perusal of country readers in the more remote districts—if, indeed, there be such a thing as remoteness since the institution of railroads—who will naturally be anxious to read about that mighty, plethoric Babylon of which they have heard such marvels, and which they live in the hope of one day visiting. The author, after describing the quaint locality of Leicester-square, makes some pertinent allusions to the astonishing spread of London westward, and the incessant migration of all would-be people of fashion in that direction. The spread is indeed most marvellous, and we should not wonder if, in the course of some twenty or thirty years, the West-end of the m e t ro p o li s s h ou ld have established itself in the neighbourhood of Houns low. Already it is travelling with a determined stride towards that suburbrn spot; and the march of brick and mortar is no more likely to come to a dead halt than the march of intellect—of quackery—of capital —or any other popular onward movement of the day Speaking incidentally of Clare market, Mr. Murray tells us that it is in the immediate vicinity of sundry hospitals and churchyards ; but he does not add—which he might have done with per fect truth—that when the wind blows from the east, that is to say, from the cemeteries right over the market, it must impart a fine aroma to the butcher's meat there, and greatly enhance its excellence in the eyes of epi cures_ The present chapters of the " Scattergood Family" are a decided improvement on the last. .4 Mr. Albert Smith is not very felicitous in dialogue, but his narrative is almost uniformly interesting and animated. He presents us not merely with the outline of a picture, but with all its minutest details, as in his graphic sketch of the stage and green-room of a minor theatre, where the actors and actresses are all in their every-day dress, and a dramatist—of the tremendous Fitzball school—is edifying , them by the perusal of his, last new melo-drama. In this vivid description there is force without exaggeration. We should not omit to notice Leech's admirable illus tration of a small actor's garret, which is evidently drawn, from the life. " Dalton"a fictitious name, we resume —gives us astriking legend of the Lincoln Fens, in his prose tale, " The Dummy," which refers to a murder perpetrated there several years ago, under the most revolting circumstances that it is possibl e t o conceive. - The story is just the sort of one to be read on a dark night in a chimney-corner, when the clock is on the stroke of twelve, the candles are low in their sockets and the wind is howling like th e very devil up the chimney, The moral may be ex plained in the words of Shakspeare : " Foul deeds will rise Tho' all the earth o'erwhelm them in men's eyes." The " Happy Family" has much quiet humour and irony. The author, after duly considering the private lives and habits of several families who are said by their friends to pass their lives in a state of enviable felicity, and discovering, on examination, that the statement is without foundation, comes at length to the conclusion that the only truly happy fatally in all London is that extraordinary collection of cats and mice, and owls and ferrets, who may be seen dwelling amicably together in a cage in Trafalgar-square. The author concludes by this just remark, "The grand secret must be let' out. If you were to treat rational beings as these brutes are treated, they would be equally quiet, easy, and com fortable." The " English Captives at Caubul" is full, as might be expected, of matter of exciting interest. The " Northern Tower" is a poem intended to be humourous. It is, however, dull by mistake. We quote some pleasing stanzas entitled " Our Fathers :" " Our fathers Time its record bears To their unblemish'd fame, And every olden spot endears Sonie high and saintly name. • Earth teems with memories of those Whom ages guard in deep repose. Calmly they reot, those grey old men We fondly love to trace, With rev'rent mein, and sage-like ken, And cheerful beaming face; With locks as white as riven snow, And furrow'd, yet Undaunted brow.. Where lonely stands the time-worn church, The little hamlet's pride, There, stranger, ply thy curious search, And oftentimes beside The crumbling edifice thou'lt see Some rudely sculptured effigy. Despise it not ! that fragment brings A moralising theme, And o'er it, as the sunset flings A warm and passing gleam, It may a light to thee impart, And wake to thought thine inmost heart. Though nameless, yet we know that 'neath That cenotaph lies one To whom we owe a wreath in death, And not ourselves alone, But those who can but prattle o'er • The greatness of their sires of yore! . A warrior !—Can the patriot boast A lineage more proud? Some patient monk !-Rath Learning's host More wisely been endowed? Could we at times. revive the spell Of their own day, it might be well I Behold yon ruin!--'twas a fare Where once, at quiet even, Would rise the penitential strain Of godly men' to heaven! What hands arrests the spoiler's sway? What heart but mocks it in decay? The vigils of the midnight hour, Not idly spent, nor few, The struggles of the mind for pow'r To those high souls are due; And we, unconscious of their might, Derive the blessing, theirs by right. Affection !—there was truth within, That now we blush to name; et spreads au holocaust to sin, And scorns &virtuous fame. The darker ages do but prove How weakly man recedes in love! Our fathers !—foremost are ye still ! We echo but the sound Of those rich notes of ancient skill, So loyous, yet profound ! The light that o'er the past is thrown But dims the glory of our own." NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. The opening article in this Number, " Letters from Hong-Kong and Macao," besides being lively and spirited in the tone, is exceedingly well-timed, and will- be pretty sure to be read with interest, public curiosity being just now specially directed. to everything relative to China. The author, it seems, is but just arrived from Hong-Kong, whose popula tion he states to have increased in a most surprising ration for in 1840, when it was first ceded to the British, it contained scarcely a population of 8,000 souls; and • now, in 1843, it numbers upwards of 30,000! It is not a little curious that though the Government-House, and other public buildings in Hong-Kong are as yet but half-finished, the "granite gaol" is completed, and furnished with every requisite for the accommodation of those who may feel disposed to qualify themselves for admission. " Young England" institutes a good humoured, ironical contrast, between the existing generation and its immediate predecessor, and shows how completely the learned children of the present day put to the blush their ignorant fathers, and hints at the expediency of the latter being sent' to infant schools, in order to place them on a more equal footing —in point of knowledge—with their juvenile, unbe- Wiskered offspring. " Song of the Spirit of Poverty " is by Miss Cooke. There are some vigorous thoughts in~it, but the subject is too repulsive for our taste. Poets —lady-poets especially—should forswear such grim, painful themes ' .which even the genius of Crabbe hardly rendered endurable. " Narrative of a Visit to to the Courts of Vienna," &c., is by the Marchioness of Londonderry, who bewais in most lugubrious terms the sufferings she endured from dirt and ver min while steaming down the Danube. We can imagine with what exquisite dismay the fair owner of Wynyard Park must have contemplated the mercurial movements of innumerable fleas—all in the healthiest condition— while seated in her squalid den of a cabin, and deriving her sole consolation from the fact that the drenching rain which came pouring in through the roof and wetted her through and through, would also most probably give her insect persecutors their death of cold. The Marchioness writes clearly and with con siderable vigour, and the touches of aristocratic fastidiousness' that now and then quite unconsciously escape her, are amusing, because characteristic. The "Monster-Meeting" is a broad quizzical' extrava ganza, describing a meeting of all the monsters in creation, past and present, for the purpose of elect ing a president ; when, after much animated discussion, an "honest Pennsylvanian," was elected by general acclamation, as being the greatest monster of all The " Good Old Plan" is a French tale of the days of the Grande Monarque, whose object is t o show the impolicy of subjecting high-spirited boys to corporal punishment. " Behind the Scenes" con tains some able sketches of character. We quote the following passage, which alludes to the conduct of Prince Talleyrand during the memorable three days in Paris, in the Revolution of 1830 : " On the second day, the 28th, when the people were com bating against the Ding's troops for the possession of the Hotel de Ville, while the air was filled with the old and dreaded sounds, the cannon's roar, the tocsin's boom, his confidence in the success of the King's power of defence for sook him at once, and he then pronounced the memorable sentence which has since become familiar to the readers of French literature : The cannon which is fired against the people cannot but shake the sovereign's throne.' " At the moment when the tocsin announced the triumph of the people at .the Hotel de Ville, he looked at the clock upon the mantelpiece. It was then just upon the stroke of five. A few minutes more,' exclaimed he, and Charles X. is no longer King, of France.' " One good instance of his presence of mind occurred at this very moment, for he turned to his valet-de-chambre, and bade him immediately collect together the men-servants of the hotel, and take down the words Hotel Talleyrand,' which, flaunted in large golden characters over the gateway, the feudal pride of other times. " I,stilLinaintain the perfect conviction that, even up to the very hour of which I speak, he was undecided as to the course he would adopt ; he was evidently. waiting for the issue of the struggle. Public rumour has lent him a bon mot, which is certainly in his style,- although I was with him the whole day, and did not hear him pronounce it. " Hark ! the tocsin ceases—we triumph !' " We ! who, mon prince ?' " ' Chut, npt a word! I will tell you that to-morrow.' " If his secret wishes were really In favour of a new order of things, with his habitual prudence, he made it a duty to conceal them ; and he spent the whole of the second day fixed at the windows of the drawing-room of the hotel, which looks into the Place Louis Quinze, sending every now and then his emissaries into the divers quarters of Paris, to bring back accounts of the progress of the revolution. MM. de Broglie, ihrtin de Vaux, and Sebastiani, were with him, and all, excepting the Prince, were of opinion that the King would attempt, before the morning, to re-enter Paris at the head of his troops. He knew the character of' the man too well either to hope or fear this decision. "On the 29th, however, when M, de Talleyrand began to be convinced that the cause of the revolution triumphed, that the Liberal Deputies, Casimir Perier, Lafitte, Lafayette, all, not only pronounced themselves in its favour, but sought to direct the insurrection, and to place themselves at its head ; he felt at once the immense advantage that such a demon stration would give to the Chamber of Deputies over the Chamber of Peers; and his only thought during the whole day was to collect together, at his own house, the few men of intelligence among the Peers of the opposition, in order to balance, in the public opinion, by some patriotic declara tion, the influence already gained by the Deputies, from the position in which theyhad placed themselves --that of De fenders of the Charter.' "But all the efforts of the Prince were unavailing. The great number of his friends, such as Pasquier and Mole, hesi tating to declare their opinions thus openly, in dread of the return of Charles X., declined taking a part in the protesta tion of the Deputies. M. de Talleyrand was pained to the quick by this want of decision, and foretold, with an accuracy which has since become manifest, all the bad consequences which would fall upon the Chamber of Peers from havi ng remained passive during this eventful crisis." THE SUN, LONDON, THURSDAY EVENING, FEBRUARY 1, 1844. ROOD'S MAGAZINE. - - - This. Magazine opens with a poem from the pen, we presume, of the Editor, in which occur some beau tiful touches of feeling. It is, however, too much an echo of the " Song of the Shirt," but we can readily - overlook this fault in consideration of the valuable moral it inculcates. The subject of the poem is the " Lady's Dream," and it describes a young female of rank and fashion who falls asleep, and in her dreams is visited by the ghosts of those wretched, hard-worked females who have worn away their lives in toiling night and day to furnish her, and others in her situation, with splendid apparel. We quote the closing passages of this vision. The lady herself is supposed to be relating it, and thus gives vent to her tardy remorse : " Of the hearts that daily break, Of the tears that hourly fall, Of the many, many troubles of life, That grieve this earthly ball— Disease and Hunger, and Pain and Want, But now I dreamt of them all ! " For the blind and the cripple wore there, And the .babe that pined for bread, And the houseless man, and the widow poor Who begged-Lto bury the dead; The naked, alas, that I might have clad, The famished I might have fed ! "The sorrow I might have soothed, And the unregarded tears ; For many a thronging shape was there, From long forgotten years, Aye, even the poor rejected Moor, Who rais'd my childish fears ! " Each pleading look, that long ago I scann'd with a heedless eye, Each face was gazing as plainly there, As when I passed it by ; Woe, woe for me if the past should be Thus present when I die "No need of snlphureous lake, No need of fiery coal, But only that crowd of human kind Who wanted pity and dole— In everlasting retrospect— Will wring my sinful soul ! - " Alas ! I have walked through: life Too heedless where I trod ; Nay, helping to trample my fellow worm, And fill the burial sod— Forgetting that even the sparrow falls Not unmark'd of God ! "I drank the richest draughts ; And ate whatever is' good— Fish, and flesh, and fowl, and fruit, Supplied my hungry mood; , • • But I never remembered the wretched ones That starve for want of food I " I dressed as the noble dress, In cloth of silver. and gold, With silk, and satin, and costly furs, In many an ample fold ; But I never remembered the naked limbs That froze with winter's cold. . • " The wounds I might have heal'd ! The human sorrow and smart ! And yet it never was in my soul To play so ill a part : But evil is wrought by want of Thought. As well as want of Heart !" She clasp'd her fervent hands, And the tears began to stream ; Large, and bitter, and fast they fell, Remorse was so extreme; And yet, oh yet, that many a Dame Would dream the Lady's Dream The lines which we have marked in Italic convey an impressive moral truth. The " Strange Student" is a somewhat fantastic story, and relates to the suicide of an imaginative young man who falls a victim to his own high-wrought fancies. The story is not ill. written, but there is nothing in it that calls for par ticular remark. " Nature and Art" consists of a cor respondence between two individuals, one of whom had gained a prize in the Art-Union Lottery, and describes the annoyance to which he was subjected owing to his acquisitionof that prize. The correspondence is divert ing, and quizzes picture-lotteries in a very whimsical and good-natured manner. The" Installation" is a story, the scene of which is laid in Oxford; at the time when the Duke of Wellington was installed Chancellor of that University. The narrative is skilfully sustained throughout. " A Word for Bores" is a defence of these unhappy individuals, and is more ingenious 'than successful. • " The Struggle for Fame" contains some sound advice, albeit in rhyme, to a young aspirant after celebrity. The poem is one that can hardly fail t 4 please from the ease and grace of the versification. Of the few remaining articles the best is a notice of " Gautier's Travels in Spain." AINSTVORTIPS MAGAZINE. The intriguing character of the well-known Harley, Earl of Oxford—whom Swift has praised in such fulsome terms--is skilfully brought out in the chapters before us of Mr. Ainsworth's " Court of St. James," and there is much nature and propriety in the dialogue which he holds with Queen Anne, and in which he is • interrupted by the sudden irruption of the Duchess of Marlborough into the royal pre sence. Nor is humbler English life less truly painted in thts story, as may be. seen by reference to the entertaining conversations that take place between Sergeant Scales and the Queen's State coachman. There are onQ or two lyrics, we perceive, interspersed among the chapters, but they are certainly not in the author's most successful manner. The best is a humorous song, sung by the redoubtable sergeant, and entitled the "Boots of Marlbrook," which is full of pointed allusions to the Duke's victories over the French Marshals. The "_Long Hours" is the con tinuation of a story, by Mrs. • Hall, which was commenced last month, and is founded on the fact of the exhausting labours to which young apprentices are too often subjected in the metropolis and elsewhere, and the evil habits which they are apt, to engender. " Oriana and Vesperella " is a species of fairy tale, with a. dash of allegory mixed up with it ; but we must con fess that it is not much to our taste. "John Manesty, the Liverpool merchant,',' is rather prosy this month, and the dialogue between the merchant and a Mo ravian priest might have been very advantageously curtailed. The " Seven Sleepers of Ephesus" —as its title imports—is a. prose -version of the celebrated legend of that name. The sleepers, it may be re membered, were Christians, who one fine day fell into a heavy slumber in a cavern, and did not wake up till two hundred years had rolled over their un conscious heads. Had Mr., Robert Montgomery's poems been written in those days, we could at once have accounted for the sleepers' long nap, on the sup position that each had taken a copy of those drowsy productions with him into the cavern, and gone off " as fast as a church" in a vain effort to master their contents. Under such circumstances, the sleep would have been no miracle, but the most natural thi ng i n th e wor ld. " A Jar of Honey from Mount Hybla" is a light, graceful, critical essay, from the pen of Mr. Leigh Hunt, who is certainly one of the most cordial and discriminating of living critics. In the new series of the " Elliston Papers," which we are glad to meet with again, we find an entertaining account of a sort of 0. P. row, which took place in 1810 at the Surrey Theatre, in consequence of a professional dispute be tween two rival Columbines. Shortly after this row, the great lessee, says his biographer slily, had " a chronic attack of a religious nature"—in other words, took to Methodism for a season—a distressing ma lady to which, it appears, he was at times peculiarly liable. " James's Late Romances" is a very com mon-place criticism ; and the " Song of the Sabbath" is one of those mediocre poems which it is more diffi cult to read than to write. In looking about for ex tracts, we have lighted on the following description of Queen Anne's state coachman, which we quote from the Editor's romance : "On the morning after the ball at the Palace, and just as the clock of old Saint Martin's Church (for the present struc ture was not then erected) was striking eight, Mr. Thomas Proddy, the Queen's coachman, issued from the Royal Mews at Charing Cross, and bent his steps towards Marlborough House. A little man was Mr. Proddy—a very little man— but great, exceedingly great, in his own estimation ; indeed, it may be doubted whether the Lord-Treasurer entertained a higher opinion of his post or himself, than did Mr. Proddy. Nature had been singularly kind to him, and if she did not actually design him for his exalted'situation, she formed him in such a manner as ensured his elevation to it. She coloured his gills with the blushing hues ordinarily bestowed by her on the turkey-cock; moulded him after the fashion of the Bacchus on a rum-puncheon ; and kindly limited his growth to four feet nothing. Not insensible, it has been said, to these natural advantages, was Mr. Proddy. No man was prouder of his calves that he was, or set greater value on his paunch, or t iook more pains to nourish the genial tinting of his cheek. - He felt it incumbent upon him to strut in his gait when called upon by necessity to walk ; to nod slightly, very slightly, if he encountered a friend; to eye disdain fully all other persons who might cross his path ; and to cock his nose, which, being small and snubby, suited the action well, and thrust out his under-lip and double chin in a manner that should leave xio one in doubt as to his self importance. Great was littlellr.Proddy on his feet, but he was greater far on the box: To see him seated on the ham mer-cloth of the Royal state-carriage, in all the glories of his rich livery, his laced three-cornered hat, his bouquet, and his flaxen wig, contrasting so happily with his rubicund face, his little fat legs fixed upon the splashing-board, and his eight milk-white horses in hand—this was a sight worth beholding. All the dignity of all the coachmen in the king dom seemed then to be concentered in Mr. Proddy. He was deaf to the shouts of admiring crowds; but you saw a smile of ineffable consequence irradiate his cheek and chin, and twinkle in his round protruding eyes, w hil e h e now an d then addressed a brief injunction to the grooms at the horses' heads in the tone of a general issuing orders to his aides-de-camp. Once, and once only, did he forget himself, and this was on tht occasion of the Queen's recent visit to St. Paul% to re turn thanks for the victory of Ramilies, when the name of Proddy being shouted forth in feminine accents near Temple Bar, he looked up for a mom en t, an d recogn i s i ng some fami lial:face, winked in reply. But this discomposure was mo mentary, and is merely mentioned to show that the great are not entirely free from the infirmities .that beset' other less distinguished mortals. We must now follow Mr. Proddy up Pall-mall, along which he was slowly marching, or to speak more wofaddling, with one h an d thrust up to t h e clay, from whi c h h e was d raw i ng h u ge thumb in his waistcoat -pocket, an d th e ot h er susta i n i ng th e stem of correctly,a yard whiffs, and expelling them at th e noses o f t h e casua l passen gers. The hour being early, he was somewhat in dishabille, and wore only a white calico jacket, cr i mson p l us h b re eches, and stockings drawn above th e k nee. Hi s s hi rt was unbut toned, and as his little white wig merely covered the top of his head, it gave to view. the back of a neck, p rec isely re sembling in colour and expa nse t h e same region in a scalded pig. Then he had a velvet cap, bound with gold, with an immense neb." FRASER' S MAGAZINE. In a notice of some recent popular novels—more especially Mr. Lever's " Ha rr y L o r req uer "—which a pp ea rs in the present p ages o f th i s M agaz i ne , th e Reviewer, Michael Ang e l o Tit mars h, i nsis ts with extreme pertinacity on the inherent melancholy of the Irish character. " All Irish stories,".he says, " are sad, all humourous Irish songs are sad ; there is never a burst of - laughter excited by them, kit, as I fancy, tears are near a t h an d; and from Castle Rackrent downwards, every Hibernian tale that I have read, is sure to leave a sort of woeful, tender , impression." There is some truth in this assertion, but it is not true to the ex tent that the Reviewer supposes. Lover's first and best -works, his " Legends and Stories of Ireland," are anything but melanch o l y i n th e i r t one; Doctor Maginn s national sketches and magazine tales have not—so far as our recollection serves us—a spark of sentiment in their composition; Crofton Croker's " Traditions" are full of riotous humour; and as for. the authoress of . " Castle' Rackrent" she appeals chiefly to our judgment and Common sense, and seldom or never excites sensations, whether of laughter or melancholy. We do really and truly believe, however, that the Irish character is in a transition state, "from lively to severe ;" and if the present fashion for sobriety continues, and ,whiskey take its place among the luxuries " that once were, ' we doubt not, but in a few years we shall find Ire land as grave, methodical, and business-like, as either England or Scotland. Whether such a radical change is to be deplored or hailed with • delight, we do not undertake to :say; enOugh., to say that it is in progress—thanks to Father Mathew and his Tern perance Pledge. " The Luck of Barry Lyndon, is a story pennedin a light, easy, conversational styl e; and t s h e developed character of with the much principal personage,.young Barry, tact. The Drama" is another attempt to account for the sad state of degra dation into which this great national amusement has fallen. The authoi's explanations on the subject are thoie of a man of common sense, but we think he hardly lays sufficient empfiasis . on the fact, that we have no• longer a corps of actors whom it is worth our while to go to see. , We have the Keeleys, certainly, and Farren, and one or two others who are clever enough ,in . their way ; but we have no longer any Kembles, or Keans, or Dowtons, pr Listons ; and the very best we 'could now number are but second-rate. Then the , daily habits of our lives are unsuitable to dramatic • performances and half the middle classes in the Metropolis ar e only just sit ting down to . dinner when the prompter's bell is ringing for the drawing up of the curtain. He must be a brilliant actor, indeed, who can induce a Londoner to dine an hour or two before his usual time, in order to hurr7 off to the th ea t re . Th e , " Speculative Parricide' is an essay on th e di a l ogues of Plata, in which there is a more tha n or di nar y display of scholarship and ingenuity. I n "Remi niscences of Men and Things ' we find s o m e d u ll o ld woman's twaddle about Prince Metternich. In the political article on "the State and . Prospects of the Government," occurs the following opinion, in the ju s ti ce of which we coincide : "If Sir Robert Peel trust for the preservation law as it i s , of order in Ireland to the he must make up his mind to retain military occupation of the country—a measure w hich will suffice, no doubt, to dissipate all apprehensions of rebellion, but which will neither satisfy the well-disposed nor conciliate the disaffected." From " Fanny Elssler at Paris," we quote this celebrated dancer's account of her debut in that capital : " I came into the opera at the close of Veron's -career, but in time, fortunately, to benefit by his directorial skill and activity. Hearing o f my success in London, he came over to examine into my claims. Satisfied that I was not un worthy transportation to the bright sphere he moved in and controlled, he made very liberal offers for myself and sister, which were accepted, and off we started for Paris. He deter- mined that my debut should not take place immediately, and he employed the interval with the greatest -assiduity in kindling a curiosity in the public mind concerning me, which he inflamed to the highest pitch of longing. When he thought them sufficiently aroused; and the moment ripe for the event, he announced it with a flourish of his mana gerial trumpet that rung through the startled ears of all Paris. The night came, and my destiny with it. What my emotions were, it would be a vain attempt to pourtray ; but I felt that the result decided my career, that I should remain a favoured and admired plant in this rich and coveted soil, or be nipped in the bud, and fall withered and forgotten, into darkest obscurity. Every thing was most judiciously arranged by the vigilant and sagacious directeur, for he knew his interest would be greatly affected by the public decision. A divertissement was got up for the occasion, and it was so managed that I did not appear until the public impatiende was wound up to an almost intolerable point. It was contrived that I should appear with a close veil over my head and face, and which fell so amply down, as nearly to conceal my person. In this shrouded form I ap peared on the stage, near to the lamps, and -stood thus for a minute, whilst a pantpmimic colloquy was going on about me. The house was silent, and almost breathless with ex pectation; my veil was thrown back, and instantly every opera-glass was levelled at . my devoted head. I shrunk under the intensity of the gaze, so fixed and piercing; I fan cied I was burning under the ardent stare directed so steadily upon me, As glass after glass was withdrawn,• the pent-up feelings of the house found relief in loud murmurs of satis 7. faction, as I was told, being too a nx i ous t o d eterm i ne t h e point lor myself. My dancing gave equal pleasure, and as the ballet went on I rose in public estimation, till at the close I was called for, and received the heartiest tokens of admiration and good-will, more than I either deserved or expected ; yes, far more. My success was, indeed, a prize for me. How much had I not to fear from the experienced judgment,, the refined taste, of the French public,and the surpassing merit of my rivals! Taglioni was then at the very height of her renown ; the matchless creation La Sylphide, had carried her reputation.to the uttermost ends of Europe, and her nightly performances at the Opera were hailed with enthusiastic plaudits by her enraptured admirers ; and truly her execution was superb and faultless. ' Graceful as a swan, she glided majestically across the scene, leaving in her wake mute wonder, and delight. No one compre hended her perfection more fully, no one enjoyed it more heartily, than I did. Is it wonderful, then, that I t rem bl e d when I stepped forth, night after night, to contest with her the coveted palm of superiority, and divide with her the spoils of public favour?" TAIT'S MAGAZINE. In Mrs. Gore's tale of " Blinks and Prizes," which is resumed in this Number, we find many of those smart worldly touches of reflection which form so conspicuous a feature in her tales of fiction. The narrative, however, is not one of her best, and of the characters introduced, there is scarcely one that she has not already pourtrayed. Nevertheless, it reads off easily and trippingly enough ; and we have been struck with the truth of this remark :—" The kins folk of modern times . are apt to resemble crocuses, which expand like globes of gold in the sunshine, but shut up their hearts again as soon as the skies are overcast." The " Song of the Starved by Law," is a passable parody on Mr. Hood's " Song of the Shirt," which it may be remembered appeared a few weeks since in Punch. "Reminiscences of Mrs. Opie,"—which we are pleased to see are to be con tinued—contain an account of an evening spent by the authoress at Lady Cork's, in the memorable pear 1814, where she had the honour of an introduc tion to Prince Leopold, who had then just arrived in this country. The " Withered Plower," is a simple, unaffected poem, but our readers shall judge for themselves:— " They brought her from the city vast, To this dim forest dell : 'Twould ease, they said, her pain to tread The path she lov'd so well. They led her forth by hill and spring, And down the flowery den : They deem'd her childhood's haunts would bring Her childhood back again. The flower-buds glisten'd in the grass, The bird sung in the tree : A few short sumwers since, alas ! She sung as blithe as he. O tell me not, in summer time, Within this happy dale, That lady's eye could long be dim, Her cheek could long be pale I Yet momently they lost their light, Like stars, when day's begun,— Or bluebells sweet, which chill winds blight, When summer days are done. And, hour by hour, life's sun sank low, A sunset sad and bleak— For death crept quietly and slow, Like twilight o'er her cheek. 'Twas now the golden autumn time, The old age of the day, Each flowery cup was folded up, Beneath the parting ray; When, as the Sabbath's dying light Stole through the lattice in, That lady closed her eyelids bright, Upon this world of sin. Each flowret ope'd its silken bell, When merry morning shone ; But noon and evening came—yet still She silently slept on. The lilies grow beside her feet, The violets at her head; An angel might not grieve to meet With such a blessed bed. They brought her from the city vast, To this dim forest dell : Here first it sprung, and here, at last, The withered floweret fell." DUBLIN UNIVERSITY MAGAZINE. One of the most agreeable articles in this Number is a critical essay on the popular songs of the French poet Beranger, between whom and Moore the follow ing comparison is instituted :—" Moore's sentiment is enveloped in a vague and distant association ; the thought of Beranger is bare and has a definitive aim. The one resembles the sword of Harmodius, sheathed in its myrtles ;. the other is th e pa l pa bl e dagger of Brutus. Moore's style is elegant and pointed, while Beranger's is simple and concise." The critic theri proceeds to give translations of some of Beranger's best lyrics, and is, we think, successful in his versions. " Life of Gerald Griffin" is a laudatory notice of a recently published biographical memoir of the gifted author of " Gisippus.' " Arrah Neil, or Times of Old," is a tale from the pen of that most prolific of living novelists, Mr. James. It is very tedious and languid in places, and bears marks of having been dashed off in breathless haste. In the " Episodes of Eastern Travel" we meet with some forcible sketches of the Nile, and the scenery in the neighbourhood of Memphis. UNITED SERVICE JOURNAL. We have here, among other papers, some sensible remarks on the state of affairs in the'East, under the title of "A Glance at Indian Affairs, Retrospective and Prospective?' The writer is a strenuous defender of Lord Ellenborough's course of policy, observing that he "had had great and unusual difficulties to cope with, and it is no small credit to him to have surmounted them hitherto with success, and to have extorted praise in some instances, even from those who would have gloried in his failur." A "Fortnight's Furlough" relates some interesting particulars respecting that Earl of Warwick who lived in the reign of Henry the Fifth. The remaining articles are of an average order of merit. COLONIAL MAGAZINE. There is considerable tact and judgment displayed in the getting up of this Magazine, which—as may be guessed from its title—is exclusively devoted to the consideration of colonial matters. The informa tTn it gives us on these matters is copious and well digested ; and the Number is embellished with seve ral appropriate engravings. The article on the " Past and Present condition of the Cape of Good Hope" abounds in curious statistic details. BRITISH MAGAZINE. A monthly register of religious and ecclesiastical information; drawn up succinctly, and adapted to the tastes of clerical readers, for whom it is chiefly designed. In the present Number occur some judi cious suggestions respecting the " Religious Treat ment of Lunatics." SCULPTURE FOR THE NEW ROYAL EXCHANGE. The pieces of sculpture which are being prepared to fill the pediment of the new Royal Exchange are now nearly com pleted. They are the work of Mr. Westmacott, at whose residence we yesterday had the pleasure of inspecting them. The subject the artist has chosen to illustrate for this purpose is exceedingly appropriate to the occasion. It consists of a series of figures grouped together after the following manner : —The centre, or highest portion of the pediment, is occupied by a figure on a pedestal, representing Commerce, of ten feet in height. She leans on a helm, and is surrounded by all the emblems suitable to her character—viz., the beehive, the com pass, the cornucopia, &c. On the steps on either side are placed British merchants engaged in traffic with natives of every clime—the Chinese, the Arab, the Negro, the Greek, the Indian, the Armenian, and the Turk. These figures are between seven and eight feet in height. The composition is terminated, as it at tenuates, on one side by marine furniture—such as anchors, cables, and blocks, and on the other by different articles of merchandise. In this composition the aim of the artist seems to have been to embody in sculpture a modern subject and the sentiments of our own age. In prosecuting a task of no slight weight, he has apparently been deterred by none of the difficulties which would naturally arise out of such an undertaking, but has completed a work which, though doubt less not perfect, will, we apprehend, not disappoint the ex pectations of the inhabitants of the first commercial city in Europe. It is cut in Portland stone, in a broad, vigorous, and effective style. The area of the pediment, 13 feet by 30, will be exceedingly well filled, and the various figures are connected together without breaks or gaps. .We understand that in a very short space of time this group will be elevated and fixed in the position which we hope it is destined to occupy for ages to come. I . I.TILL OF PORK AT DEVONPORT. Saturday morning a building in the market of this town, which was supported on pillars, and appropriated for hanging the car cases of pigs on the cross-beams attached ,thereto, not being able to sustain the weight of the dead pigs, in consequence of the rottenness of the timbers, fell down on a number of persons who were engaged in business under the roof. The utmost confusion ensued. When the parties were taken from the ruins, it was discovered that a pigdealer from the country had his leg and thigh broken, and otherwise injured ; an industrious woman, a butcher's wife, had also a leg broken. Four others were severely hurt, and many slightly. Had the accident happened half an hour later, some serious disasters would no doubt have been the result. The parties whose bones were fractured were taken to the infirmary at the workhouse, where every .attention is being paid to them by desire of M. E. St. Aubyn, the steward of the manor. - • 7-7,x7-7c.: ks II conspirators were persons who hound themiep l igiv oath -- ,Q to do an illegal act—who bound themselr• ipgether - to k . : tyranise over others—to undertake malici eiprises.,l4 ! ,y- v , Such (continued Mr.'Fitzgibbon) was the .1 ion given of this early statute, for the purpose of i‘s• ng a, final, definition of conspiracy. He was quite f?* -to adinit that, in the same book, th ere were passages Witich be considered unfavourable to his case, but he 'We. Fiti gibbon) would not keep out of the view of the jury that which the leading member of the Irish bar had done. He would not suppress from their view one single pas sage that might tend to explain the passage which he should cite, and he would not say whether this course was right or wrong— The CHIEF J usricE--Where is that? • Mr. Frrzmunost—On page 446. He then read a passage respecting the kind of conspiracies which should be prosecuted by indictment, and proceeded to say, that when society began to emerge from a state of barbarism, that confederacies of the most criminal and dangerous character were formed, and it seemed to be only a ra tional thing to have a law to punish such villains. He then cited the case of the King v. Edwards, which was an indictment for conspiracy, arising out of an attempt on the part of the officers of a parish , in England to ob tain possession of the money raised upon it for the bene fit of the poor. One of the party charged married a cripple, not for the purpose of matrimony at all, but'to make her chargeable to another parish. There was an other instance of an indictment for conspiracy. A card maker conspired with the members of his family to bribe the apprentice of another card maker to injure the paste used by him, by putting grease into it, and thereby destroying the reputation he had gained in his trade. They were indicted for a conspiracy, and this case was a fair illustration of the meaning of a con spiracy. No one knew of the conspiracy but the villains themselves ; no one could actually prove that there was a conspiracy but by what appeared to be done at various times by the several individuals. They gave money to the apprentice. The father gave money one day—the wife gave money another—on the third day one of the servants—another servant on the following day. Evi dence of these overt acts were offered, and the Ccitirt allowed them to be given to the jury, because the accused parties were all member of the same family—all in cluded in the same practice—all influenced by the same design—that of ruining the rival card-maker by these means. The acts of each separately could not be ac counted for, but it was left to the jury to consider whe ther the acts of all were not the result of a previous conspiracy. This he conceived to be a fair illustration. Mr. Justice BunTox—Where is that ease ? Mr. FITZGIBBON—It was reported in Strange, and well known as the card-maker's case. He would now call the attention of the jury to the definition given by the Attorney-General. He (Mr. F.) took it down from his own lips. He told them that conTiracy was a crime that consisted either of a combination to do seme illegal act, or to effect a legal purpose by illegal means, and, in support of his view, he cited two cases—one the King v. Rose, in 4th Barnewall and Adolphus, pages 349-350. The defendants were indicted for combining to conceal the effects of a bankrupt. In this case there was a conviction, and the jury found a verdict of guilty. There was a motion for an arrest of judgment, and, in giving judgment against the indictment, Lord Denman said that the indictment ought to have charged that the parties combined to do an unlawful, or a lawful, act, by unlawful means. This was a mere dictum, or saying, and not the decision of a Court; and no judge should pay much attention to these, the mere " ipse dixits,' if he might use the word. These dicta were well des cribed by Sir Anthony Hart, when he said they were used to mislead one judge by misrepresenting another. He (Mr. Fitzgibbon) heard a judge of equal ability — the present Baron Pennefather—repudiate the principle or practice of citing in one ease what a judge had said in another : for this reason, what was said in a par ticular case was said with reference to the facts proved, and not said as laying down a general law, to effect cases that might be composed of very different facts. In the case of the King v. Seymour, there was an in dictment against the officers of one parish for conspiring to throw paupers upon another, and after a verdict there was a motion for arrest of judgment, as in the former case. The motion was granted—the judgment arrested. Lord Denman spoke again, and supported his former dictum in the case of the King v. Jones. This was going a great way to establish the correctness of the point—the same high authority, speaking and acting similarly on two occasions. It so happened that in 1839 there was another case before the very same Chief Justice, of an indictment for conspiring against a set of persons who opened splendid shops and induced tradesmen to give them goods on credit. They were convicted, but there was a motion for an arrest of judgment, because it was declared not to be a case properly within the law of indictment. Lord Den man had his own dictum cited, but he would not receive it, and decided against it ; and so far as the authority of Lord Denman in this case went, there was no weight. CHIEF JUSTICE—Where is that case reported ? Mr. FITZGIBBON—It was the case of the King v. Keck, 2d Adolphus and Ellis. There was also a dictum of the late Lord Chief Justice Bushe in the case of' the King v. Forbes, cited by the Attorney-General. That very able man did lay down the law pretty much in the same way. In his charge to the jury he said— The CHIEF JUSTICE inquired where this case was to be found. Mr. FITZGIBBON—It was at page 347 in Mr. Green's report of the trial of Forbes and others, charged with conspiracy in Dublin in 1823. In that charge it was laid• down that when two or more persobs confederated together for effecting an illegal p s urpOse by legal means, it constituted the crime of cons Piracy ' • also, that they were guilty should the object n ever be effected. Ile (Mr. Fitzgibbon) cautioned the jury against adopting text-books of law, which he compared to map-making —the writers of text-books generally adopting those which they already found in existence. The Learned Gentleman next adverted to the case of the King v. Edwards, in East's Pleas of the Crown, in which it was reported that the Court said the bare conspiracy to do a lawful act to an unlawful end was a crime. This was the bare dictum of the Court, describing an offence. In vain would they look for such a definition iu the old books, or in the common law. No doubt it was to be seen in Mr. East's book—a man almost of the present day, but no authority. He was not a judge, but a re porter of the dicta of judges. In the case of the King v. Edwards, he made a commentary on the decision before him. He would now proceed to the second proposition of the Attorney-General, who told them if the defendants. had been engaged in a common design to obtain the end sought, they were all equally responsible, and! the acts of one were to be held as the acts of all. What was the common design ? To obtain the repeal of the union. One million, at least, of their countrymen had been engaged in that common desi gn . If th ere be guilt in that design, then are the million guilty, and they are involved in one of the most serious crimes that could be charged against a subject of the realm. Nothing could be more monstrous or more unconstitutional than this. According to the Attorney-General, the act of every one of that million is to .be taken as evidence against the entire. The conversation with a person totally unknown to Capt. Despard, behind a hedge, should, ac cording to the dictum of the Attorney-General, be taken as tvidence not only against the traversers here, but against all who had been at the meeting, or who mixed in the repeal movement. Could the jury, as men of common sense, or as honest men, give their sanction to a doctrine so utterly monstrous? That declaration of the unknown man behind the ditch, is adduced here as an overt act against the traversers. The jury were not • there strictly to try whether any of the meetings were illegal—whether sedition was uttered at those meet ings. The meetings were in evidence to show that the repeal of the union was sought by illegal means. It was only in thatway that the question of illegality could arise. The meeting was brought in to show, that without pre vious concert amongst the defendants it could not have taken place. Could any rational being believe the story told by Captain Despard—that 2,000 able-bodied men had marched all the way from Shilmalier to Tara ? Did they travel in a balloon, so high in the air that they could not be seen ? Did they travel under-ground ? Did any human being see them on the way ? Where is the man, of all the police at the Tara meeting, to say he saw a single Wexford man at the meeting ? Cap tain Despard did not see one—nor did any body-else. Captain Despard is a handsome-looking fellow, flippant, clever—a very ready witness, who came here to tell not a very probable story. If he (Mr. Fitzgibbon) had been a witness to such a fact, he confessed he would be very anxious to receive some corroboration of so startling a statement, that there were 2,000 able men—strong, fight ing men—at Tara, who had come all the way from Shil malier. And it should be recollected, too, that this Shil • malier man volunteered this statement of the fighting men—men of bone and sinew., such as O'Connell wanted—to the Stipendiary Magistrate, the very indivi dual to whom it would be dangerous to communicate it, if it were a fact at all. The. Superintendent of Po lice was standing in immediate contact with Cap tain Despard, and must haw; heard this story ; but he is not produced, and yet the jury were called to believe that such a conversation took place. Why was not Major Westenra produc e d? He was there —the pretended Wexford man was there—they were all in a group, yet the Major wain not produced. He thought he would be able to shovv them, in the progress of this case, a little of management. They were now in the year 1844, and should d o things now a days in something of a more civilia ed style than in former days. It would not do that e. man who had been the suggester of the matters the rged should be produced as evidence for the prosecution. In reference to the devices on the Repeal card, if Mr. Holbrooke had been a noisy bustling personk—a forward 'Repealer, a wearer of the repeal cap, it would not do to produce him, for testimony of that k'nad would not suit for a jury. No, he had two young men in his employment whose characters had not been itropeached, and who had no connection with the movement, and they were produced. Holbrooke had been employed by the Association—he is now working for the Government—and if the facts re garding him had appeared, there would have been a cry of indignation. Was /sot there in that evidence of management, subtlety, and craft; Combine this with holding of Holbrooke with tive story of the Wex ford man, and was it too mueb to ask the jury to be lieve that there was here some signs of contrivance on the part of the Crown.? 'Y. he Attorney-G enera l had quoted Mr. Justice Coleridge in support of his monstrous proposition—he merely int d the scissors. and cut out the dictum of that judge. It was, however, only fair to the man to give the entire of his judgment. (The Learned Gentleman here read from: the judgment, to show that, although the common des'ign was the root of the charge of conspiracy, yet there should be evidence that there had been a previous combination to use the same means for a comm on esnd.) The proposition of the Attorney-General was a eat, monstrous, and absurd Version of the law of conspir acy. Ile concurred with the view of Mr. Justice Cols :ridge, taken as a whole. o ere t e t a d co , on 8 t rohu could haveus h a d v bo o ep k eon e s n i in t oo o n ni t i? s h i es the jkueryAatstoinoftoaceht;s. p hi ro t i h •e e d, cas an e d g t u h meaning. The A c .. , )4- -.1 '..-.., s 't 41), ;21 ._ 1 IRELAND. THE STATE TRIALS FOURTEENTH DAY. (FROM OUR OWN REPORTERS.) DUBLIN, TUESDAY, JAN. 30. COURT OF QUEEN'S BENCH. THE QUEEN V. DANIEL O'CONNELL AND OTHERS. At ten o'clock this morning the Judges took their seats on the bench. Mr. O'Connell and the other traversers haying an swered to their names, the jury were next called, and two being absent, a delay of about five minutes took place. When all were assembled, Mr. FITZGIBBON, Q.C., rose and stated that in this ease it was his duty to address the jury on the part of Dr. Gray, and from the course adopted by the Crown, in putting the eight individuals together upon their trial, it necessarily resulted that each of the traversers had the privilege of making .a separate defence ; but, from the nature of the evidence, it was plain that as the charge was for a joint offence, the defence must also be joint. The accusation against the eight traversers was for un lawfully, maliciously, and criminally conspiring together, and that seemed in its nature rather a simple charge, -for even a single act might constitute the entire offence, yet the Attorney-General had opened his case with a speech which occupied eleven hours, and between forty and fifty honrs were spent in reading evid e n ce , no t in examining witnesses. Was it fair to call upon the jury to read over such a mass of matter to arrive at a just conclusion upon a narrow issue? And who could be safe—who could be defended ? What was a man to do when a vast body of matter might be flung down without explanation at the feet of a jury, in order that they might arrive at any conclusion from such a variety of pr.-mises? If Mr. Shea, conscious of his complete abilities, felt a difficulty in . approa c hi ng thi s c h aos of confusion, and was conscious of the magnitude of the duty which he had to discharge, what must be his (Mr. Fitzgibbon's) feelings ? Not those of emo tion, but of dismay. Eight gentlemen were now charged with the crime of conspiracy—an offence the most odious in every clime, and in every state of human society the most detestable. Who was the first of those eight gentlemen? A man pre-eminent in his profession —pre-eminent for his talents and for his many great virtues, and who, for a period o f over f or t y years , was the ornament of the bar. Who had he (Mr. Fitzgibbon) next to defend ? The son of that father—a candidate for success in the same profession, and just entering life, being not more than twenty-eight years of age ; and a third traverser, Dr. Gray, was also a member of another high and honourable profession. His opinion was, that the present prosecution was an unconstitutional, illegal, and unfair attempt now, in the year 1844, to devise a ministerial scourge for the purpose of lashing a free people. The three gentlemen who were highest in point of rank at the bar, and who were now pursuing the ob jects of the Government in this prosecution, he (Mr. Fitzgibbon) could speak of as gentlemen, severally and individually —" gentlemen," in the best and' most fa vourable sense of the word, and " lawyers," also, in the best sense of that word. But when he thus alluded to those three individuals, he spoke of them in ordinary matters, and in the ordi nary business of life. It had never before fallen to his (Mr. Fitzgibbon's) lot to be concerned in, or to have witnessed in a Court of Justice, a State prosecution, but it had been his duty to read many of them ; and if the three gentlemen acting for the Crown had fallen from their moral dignity, they were only following the example of much greater men than any one of them. He said this without disparagement to them, but they had only followed the fate of Lord Coke, whose virtues and whose dignity could not preserve him from acting th,. part of a Government lawyer in a State prosecution. His name had gone down to posterity with a foul blotch on it, and no friend of humanity could think of his at tack upon Sir Walter Raleigh without execrating the tongue that delivered it under the circumstances. The Attorney-General had, in his opening speech, observed that the jury would take the law from the Court, and so they would ; but the Court had not the slightest jurisdiction in the world to direct them upon the question of the guilt or the innocence of the traversers. That was a pure question of fact, with which the Judges had nothing to do. In the case of Hatfield, who fired at the King, in the theatre, intend ing to kill him ; he was taken in the act, and yet the Court had nothing to do with the intent of the accused, for that was for the jury alone. The Judges had not even a right to express an opinion upon the subject of the intent, because a jury could only act upon evidence on oath. He (Mr. Fitzgibbon) did not agree with the Attorney-General in the statement of the law as to what constituted conspiracy. Perhaps it might be said that Mr. Moore admitted the law to be as stated by the Attorney-General ; but Mr. Moore stood here for the Rev. Mr. Tierney, who had a peculiar case, for he never attended more than two of the meetings, and therefore there was no necessity for applying his mind to the law of conspiracy. The t iury had heard a term used very much —" overt acts." 'I he term was applicable to only two offences, that of treason and conspiracy ; an d t reason was a crime that a man might be guilty of without doing any act at all—for if one imagined the death of the Sovereign, the forming the determination constituted the crime. In that case an " overt act " would be an act from the the doing of which the intention of killing the King was manifested. When the Attorney-General proceeded to state the overt acts charged against the traversers, he followed him in the hope that he would s t o p an d call their attention to some one speech which could not have been spoken unless it had been previously spoken by more individuals than the one who spoke it—that he would rely upon some one speech which could not have been spoken unless by conspirators, that is to say, by persons previously engaged in a guilty combination. He expected some of the speeches would have been selected and shown to the jury as speeches that could not have been the emanation of a single mind, but concocted by more individuals than the man who made it. Did the Attorney-General do any such thing? In the whole eleven hours' during which he read much from old newspapers, did he point out a single sentenee that must have been the result of a conspiracy ? Not one. Again, when he came to the acts of the defendants, did he fasten upon a single act and show that it could not have been the act of an indivi dual unless that individual had been previously en gaged in a criminal conspiracy? Again, he said the At torney-General did not do any such thing.. How, then, did he attempt to argue there was a conspiracy? He (Mr. Fitzgibbon) would tell them—and he was sure he would not willingly misrepresent it—this was his train of reasoning. Many meetings had been held that were illegal meetings. These meetings were called by the defendants, and the defendants all concurred in calling them; and, pray, mind the word he used—concurred in calling them. They all previously consented they should be called. They were illegal meetings; and, ac cording to the law of conspiracy, if two or more agreed to do a legal act, but by illegal means, they were guilty of conspiracy. If, then, these eight defendants did all agree to call meetings, and, for brevity, he would select one—say the Tara meeting—that, said he, was an ille gal meeting; they had all agreed to call that meeting, and having so agreed, and the meeting being illegal, they were all conspirators. If two or more persons agree to do a perfectly legal act, but do so by illegal means, these two are guilty of conspiracy. Now, said the Attorney-General, they agreed to do a perfectly legal thing—to petition for a repeal of the union—but they agreed to do so by the illegal means of calling that illegal meeting and publishing these illegal speeches— and all of them concurring in the legal object of petition ing for the repeal of the union, but by illegal means, they were all, to a man, guilty of a conspiracy. This was his law, and this was the law he (Mr. F.) had to deal with. He owned when he heard that law propounded in a court of jastice, in a State prosecution, it startled him a good deal. The Attorney-General did not come there without some little books of authority behind him. He read the law from some of them. That he (Mr. F.) admitted— [Here the Learned Counsel ceased his address for a short time, and was observed speaking to Mr. O'Connell, who sat behind him. After the lapse of a few seconds he resumed)—Gentlemen of the jury, Mr. O'Connell, whose countenance in this case I deem most advisable, and his assistance, whether to suggest to me that which is neces sary, or restrain me, if I am wrong—has mentioned to me that he is obliged to &o away, and I regret the cause to arise from indisposition. Mr. O'Connell here left the Court, and— Mr. FITZGIBBON continued—He claimed the attention of the jury for a moment. There was the indictment ; they were told that this was an indictmenrat common law, the meaning of which was, that this case could have been sustained in the reign of Edward the Con fessor. An indictment of the same kind had been sus tained before the Conquest. He (Mr. Fitzgibbon) told them this without the fear of being contradicted by the Court. When they approached the consideration of the question—guilty or not guilty—they ought to consider the time, the country, and circumstan ces o f every cr i me, or alleged crime, which had been committed, and he was satisfied the jury in the present instance would leave nothing undone to enable them to arrive at a just con clusion. This was an indictment against eight mem bers of a political association ; against eight members of an association formed for the purpose of redressing an alleged grievance —for the purpose of procuring the repeal of 'an alleged bad law. Would the jury not be surprised to hear that, from the reign of Edward the Confessor down to the year 1794, there never was in England one single instance of the members of any political association whatever, from the days of Wat Tyler down to the year '94—not one single instance could be found on record of an indictment for conspiracy against the members of a political association? Now, was not that, ho asked, rather an astounding fact? Was conspiracy a crime in those days, or not to be touched by the law? Conspiracy at a very early period, indeed, became the object of great solicitude. It was regarded as a crime so dangerous, so infamous, that it was looked on as a scourge, and very early became the subject of legislative and statutary legislation. He should read a description of the crime of conspiracy, and the law affecting it, from, a high authority. He then read au extract from Ist vol. of Hawkins' Pleas of the Crown, page 444. The writer said that, for the better under standing the nature of conspiracy, he should consider, first. who might be said to be guilty of the crime of conspiracy ; and, secondly, how offenders were punished. In the first, there was no better rule than the 3d of Edward the First, commonly called the Statute of Treasons, which he (Mr. Fitzgibbon) said was passed to become a scourge in the hands of those whom it ought to govern and not to scourge. Hawkins cited the Act of Parliament, the intent of which was to make a final definition of what a conspiracy was. The Learned Counsel then read a long extract from the work which he held in his hand—which was to the effixt that