The Sun.
London, England, 1839-07-04 00:00:00

because it urges on Railroad Directors the considera-
tion of a change which we have long advocated, and
which we consider alike essential to the proprietors and.
the public—the reduction of the fares for til6
interest of the passengers. In almost every line
the high fares have operated to the disadvan-
tage of the undertaking, and when Directors
know how little additional expense they would incur
in conveying 100 passengers in place of 50, their obsti-
nacy in this respect is quite unaccountable. A
witness on the part of the Southampton Railway
Company stated before the Select Committee on Rail-
ways, his belief that " in a distance of thirty- eight
miles the difference of expense to them would not be
55., whether they carry 50 or 100 passengers in one
train." Yet, notwithstanding- this evidence of indeed a
well-known fact, they still charge 3d. per mile for first
class passengers. Another proof of the absurdity of
the system is the small proportion of individuals that
travel in the first class carriages. On the Great Western
the number of passengers is four of second class to one
of the first, and in many others the proportion in favour
of the cheap class, we believe, is considerably greater.
On this subject a writer in the Magazine makes the
following judicious observations :—" This seems to be a
branch of the general statistical law, that what is the
cheapest will be most widely distributed ; and it is not
the only application of it to which the attention of Rail-
way Managers might be called. It is established that
the cheaper the fires are the greater amount is
received ; and it is well worth the while of some
of the Companies to act upon this rule. Were the
fares to Birmingham reduced to 10s., only from Saturday
afternoon to Monday morning, the number of passer)!
gers would infinitely increase, as it would be little mo; •
than the price of a trip to Margate." A good engine
can convey a thousand passengers. The " North Star"
engine on the Great Western Line took a train from
London to Maidenhead, a distance of 26 miles, in less
than an hour, and that train contained 617 passengers,
nine coaches, and fifteen horses ; and taking the esti-
mate of ss. for every additional 50 passengers for the
distance of 38 miles, the expense to the Company for
conveying 1,000 passengers, in place of 500, to Maiden-
head, would be only 355.!
In the summary of the First Report of the Select
Committee, some curious details are given as to the
erroneous estimates of the expenses of projected Rail-
ways. In the Southampton Line the cuttings were
estimated at 6d., but have cost more than Is.; by one
deviation at St. George's Hill they knocked off three
millions from a cutting, which was to be three millions
and some odd thousands—the land was estimated at
90,000/., and it has cost 260,000/. The first estimate
for the Liverpool and Manchester was 300,0001., thought
very full at 510,000/., and it has cost 1,200,000/. ; aad
in a notice on the Eastern Counties Railway, it is as-
serted that " Lord Petre managed to bind some of the
Directors to pay him for land—which any man would
have considered, well sold at 3,000/.—and an alleged da-
mage, 120,000!.!"

DUBLIN UNIVERSITY MAGAZINE.
The raciest article in this Number is the review of
Crofton Croker's Popular Songs of Ireland. We are
puzzled to determine whether it is from the pen of
Father Prout or of Dr. Magian, but one or other of
them must have written an article, of which the follow-

ing is an extract, and a fair sample of the whole :
In his note upon " Barney of Macroorn," Croker re-
marks, " it is difficult to form a correct estimate of the
quantities of whiskey punch which may be comfortably dis-
cussed at a sitting." We sincerely trust it is. At least,
we should be sorry to sit down twice with the roan that
kept s score of it. Put a fire under the pump, said old
Giles Dackson, and be perpetually bringing up hot water.
We never hear of any other gunge attempted than this
one. To think of an allusion to a temperance society in a
work called the " Popular Songs of Jreland l" It is fortu-
nate for our old friend T , the rector of Carrickma-
cross, that the Lord sent for him before he read this. He
never would have held his head up after. Poor T---,
his testimony in regard to strong drink would not have sup-
ported Crofton's. I must tell you a story about him.
When the Duke of Richmond—the only Lord Lieutenant,
after all, we ever really had—was making one of his little
excursions in Ireland, he chanced to spend some days with
Lord Blayney. Now, though the Lord himself was a very
respectable pull at the decanter. he was nothing at all to be
compared with the Duke. " What w ill become of me ?"
says Lord Blayrey—" there is no one here fit to drink with
his Grace, and I'll be ruined entirely if he goes to bed dry.
Major Hitchcock is laid up in the barracks, with leeches
on his head, and T—n, they tell me is at the visitation."
The more he thought of it, the more puzzled he was;
till at last he determined to send an express for the rector
to Armagh, where they caught him just going to dine with the
Primate, for he preached the visitation sermon that morning.
His Reverence knew what was meant, and, making an
excuse to the Archbishop, set off with all speed to Castle-
blayney. He just got in when they had finished dinner;
but little he cared for that ; there was plenty of port, and
some very crusty old hermitage„ and he soon consoled
himself. Well, a pleasanter evening never was heard tell
of than they passed. T-- told some cf his best sto-
ries, and the Duke laughed so heartily that be nearly cried,
and at one time he fell down, and they were all frightened,
thinking it was apoplexy, for lie was nearly blue in the
face ; but it was only laughing ; and small blame for
to laugh, for Billy T was sitting upon the hearth
rug, singing Lazarus and Dives in such a way as would
half kill the chapter and all the prebends if they heard him.
Well, a little after two o'clock they were all under the
table except his Grace and the Rector. . .
" Now, Mr. T-," said the Duke, " you know the ways
of the house. Could we have a little of something warm ?"
By all manner of means," said the other, rino'ing a
private bell in the corner of the room, which was al7vays a
sign for spirits and hot water--" and I was only waiting for
your Grace to say the word, for I'm getting a little husky.
Port is a mighty dry wine."
The material came in, and at a little past four, his
Grace gave in and lay down on the carpet, and T
went home across the fields, looking as fresh as a rose, and
with a great appetite for breakfast.
Well, this went on for three evenings, and the Doke
at last, who never was beat before, could not help feeling
surprised at the rosy colour and pleasant looks of the Rec-
tor, when every body else about him was suffering from the
late hours and hard drinking.
" you're a wonderful man," says his Grace.
" Upon my conscience you ought to be a bishop."
"Ah, I don't know, )our Grace," said timidly.
" But you ought, though. Da you know, you're the
only man that ever drank me down. And ye have a beau-
tiful voice. We must see about ye. But mind, you must not
go on this way : no health, no constitution could stand it."
" Mine is getting very used to it by this time, my Lord."
" But are you never the worse for any thing you take ?"
Never, my Lord."

" Think, now, for a moment—never is a strong word,
and you must have had some stiff bouts of it in your time.
Pray, now, which do you reckon the hardest night you
ever had ?"

" Let me see. Well, then, the severest drink I ever
took was with his Lordship's mother there, rest her sowl,
for she's in glory."

" With niy mother," said Lord Blayncy, starting up.
g, Why, T---, what are you at now ? Do you know
what you're arc saying ?"
" Perfectly well, my Lord, and I repeat it, that was the
hardest night I ever got through."
"By Jove, this is good," said the Duke. " Now,
T--, give us tlie account of that same evening, for I'm
rather curious about it."

,6 Willingly, my Lord. and briefly, too. I was dining
here one dey after a very bard day's hunt—we were just
in our fifth bottle of claret, getting comfortable and warm,
after the fatigue of the day, when a servant came to say
that some one wanted to see me at the door.

" Send him off, the,;saidnyl4Ord, ;this is no time—'
" But it may be parish business," said I.

"The more reason, you can't do any thing now."
" I wager ten pounds it's some news of Cathogue,"
(one of the best hounds in the pack, that strayed from us
in the morning), said old Nicholson.
" Maybe ydu're right," said I, jumping up at once, and
rushing out of the room into the hall, where I was prettily
annoyed to see my old sexton with a cock-and-a-hull story
of a funeral. I was so vexed at the time, that as I turned
to go back, I mistook my way, and instead of reaching the
dining-room, found linyself, alter some serpentining, in
Lady Blayncy's boudoir, as she used to call it. There
she was, all alone, drinking tea at a little table, as com-
fortable as might be.
" Oh, how kind of you, Mr. T—," said she, as I came
in ; " you've left the dining-room early. May I offer you
a cup of tea ?"
" I never, someway or other, could refuse any thing
like drink. If it was an apothecary, I believe; himself,
who asked me, I'd pledge him in senna mixture—out of
habit, I suppose. So I said, With the greatest pleasure,
and down I sat ; and sure enough, we both set at it in
right earnest. I never drank fairer in my life ; fillingup
and clearing off, just as if I was in the dining-room.
Sixteen cups of tea my lady finished that evening ; and
when I saw that she was hard aground, I called for the
seventeenth, and took it off in a bumper. But, will you
believe it, that night's hard drink I never recovered for
three months ; but then I have a safe conscience about it,
for I always drank fair."
Now, Crofton, there was a picture of a pleasant man,
and a good ; that was a real Biblical, and liked his tipple ;
and not one of your modern, whey-faced, thin nosed gene-
ration, that pray for the end of the world, and petition for
the " bither observance of the Sabbath.,,
Rest his soul,
he's gone now. I hope and trust they put up the monu-
ment to him they promised in Armagh cathedral, which,
your
face ,
to the slack."
after enumerating his titles, virtues, &c., concluded in the
withbeau
him ilna nag
coal-hole,
agle.
hoofl
e, with Giles .) ack so n "Ye might drink
" Jim Sullivan's Adventures in the Great Snow,"
supply mirth enough for the dispersion of a legion
of blue devils. The Anthologia Germanica," is
continued this month, with translations from Wet-
zePs Poems, in a style far superior to the com-
mon-place, wishy-washy style of the originals. Harry
Lorrequer's continental " Gossippinit;-s”
are very prosy.
His dissertations on French Criminal Jurisprudence are
almost as dull as Sir Edward Sugden's Treatises on the
Law of Evidence. The other articles are all Reviews of
books, which have already. been noticed in The Sun—as
Burbidge's Poems, Gleig's Germany, Bohemia and
Hungary, and Lady Chattel ton's Rambles in Ireland.
We regret to see so many Reviews, and so few original
Tales and Essays in this periodical.

LIBERATION OF ANOTHER CIIMITIST
LEADER. —Mr. Thomas Powell, of Wolchpool, whose in
careeration took place on the 6th of May last, was
libe-
rated on Friday last. Dr. Johnes (a Magistrate of the
County) and Mr. Watson, bookseller and publisher of the
City-road, having entered into the necessary sureties, bail
to;the amount of 1501. each.