The Sun.
London, England, 1830-06-17 00:00:00

HISTORICAL ILLUSTRATIONS TO THE
WAVERLEY NOVELS.

THE SUBSCRIBERS to the NEW
EDITION of Sir WALTER SCOTT'S NOVELS,
TALES, &c. are respectfully informed, that HISTO-
RICAL ILLUSTRATIONS to GUY RIANNERING,
containing six Subjects, are this day published from
designs by Stothard, R. A., Wright, Cerbould, and
Richter, engraved by Charles Heath, E. Porthury, and
F. Bacon.

Prints adapted to the New Edition of the Works, price
ss. 6d. ; Royal Bvo. 7s. 6d. ; Proofs Colomb:er, 4to.
I2s. ; India Proofs, with letters, 168. ; India Proofs,
before letters, 255.

ROB ROY is preparing for publication.
Jennings and Chap!in, 62, Cheapside.

Bags, &e.irags, &c.
Liverpool 39'2,82 363,256
London 10,645 41,806
Glasgow 644 15,736
Total exported in 1850
Same pet iod 1829

Bags, &c. Bags, &c.
315 4,299
245 7,893
45

12,797.
45,653.

HALIFAX.—At our market, on Saturday,
considerable business *as done, and the improvement
which has, for some weeks, been experienced at Bradford,
was partially felt here for the first time,—a small advance
having been obtained on some descriptions of goods.—lt
gives us pleisure to mid that there are few hands out of
employ, and we hope to be enabled soon to convey the
gratifying intelligence of an advance on wages.—Halifax
Commercial Chronicle.

A most melancholy and distressing accident,
which has ezcited the liveliest sensation both in this town
and the immediate neighbourhood, ocairred on Friday
afternoon, cff Mr. Pa tten's wharf, Northfleet. On the
afternoon of that day two young gentlemen, one the son
of R.P.CRUDEN, Esq., of the Terrace, Milton, and the other
the son of GRETTON, Esq., who had been residing, for a
short time at Gravesend, procured a skiff from
Flamm.; Esq., for the purpo‘?e of enjoying an hour's
amusement on the water. While they were rowing off
Northfleet, the skiff, it is supposed, upset, and, melancholy
to relate, both sunk to rise no more. No one having
been near the spot when the fatal occurrence took place,
the cause of it caunot be correctly ascertained ; but it is
conjectured that the unfortunate youths had unthinkingly
tried experiments in rowing, by which means the little
bark lost its balance, and was overturned. The accident
was discovered by the oars of the boat and a hat being
seen floating upon the surface of the water. It is unne-
cessary to add that the bereaved relatives of the young
gentlemen, neither of whom had attained 17 years of age,
have been plunged into the deepest distress at this lament-
able catastrcphe. The oodles have not yet been picked
up, although
a reward of 101. has been offered for them.
--Maidstone Gazette.

Mr. Breoucllam resumed his arguments in this
case to-day. When he lastaddressed their Lordships
he had shown the existence of barony by tenure
in former times by the dicta of high judicial autho-
rities, the records of Parliament, and the decisions
of their Lordships' House. There was no autho-
rity to show that its existence had ceased. It had
survived that great measure of the 12th of Charles
11., whereby all military tenures were abolished;
for in that very measure there was an express pro-
vision that the privilege of being summoned to Par-
liament as parcel of a. tenure by barony should be
saved. -He would now proceed to state the facts
on Which the present claim was founded. The first
grant of the honour to the Berkeley family was in
the first year of the reign of Richard 1., being the
first of legal memory and made by Queen Eleanor,
the mother Of Richard I. (the King being then
abroad). By a charter, dated the 30th of October,
she granted to Maurice de Berkeley and his heirs,
Berkeley- and all Berkeley Hernesse, to be holden
of the King and his heirs in barony, by the service
of five knights. Hernesae is of Saxon origin, and
meant all the appurtenances and right attending.that
barony., This charter was confirmed. by Richard
himself, -and also by King John, to the succes-
sors 'of Maurice de Berkeley. The charter of King
John gave the Lord de Berkeley supreme juris-
diction over the lives and properties of those
who resided within the manor of Berkeley Castle.
No doubt it looked very absurd that a felon escaping
from gaol should have a right to sit in their Lordships'
House to pass judgment on the lives and property of
his fellow-subjects, as would be the case if such a
person should purchase this barony, if the right
now contended for wet e established; but in
former days the Barons were as tender of honour
and of high blood as they were at present, yet a
rogue or a felon might, by purchase, become the
sole judge of the lives and property of his fellow-
subjects, as in the case of the Duke of Argyll, who
had been, by purchase, Supreme Justiciary in Scot-
land, who could sit at the head of the Criminal
Court (as Lord Tenterden would sit at Old Bailey),
though the money whereby lie should purchase such
a right might have been the result of a robbery com-
mitted on the King's highway. No argument could
formerly be advanced against that right, for it was
admitted and exercised; but now there could, for it
.had been abolished by legislation, not by taunts and
sneers, or by dissuetude ; so with a barony by te-
nure it might be put down by legislation, but not
otherwise. The Learned Counsel having traced the
pedigree down to the 15th of Edward 1., observed,
that in that year it was decided by the Justices iti-
nerant in Gloucester, and admitted by the attorney
for the King in certain proceedings in a quo War-
rant° against the then Lord Berkeley, that he held
the various liberties and franchises therein stated per
baroniam. Here was a decision of a Court of Justice
recognising a barony by tenure. Having traced
down the pedigree to the reign of Homy VII., he
begged to call their Lordships' attention to a cir-
cumstance which appeared to him to amount to a
demonstrative proof that this was a barony by te-
nure. William Lord Berkeley was a great favourite
of that careful, he would not say avaricious Mo-
narch, Henry VII. If a person wished to win his
way to a Monarch at the present day, he should do
it by stock-jobbing or dabbling in the funds, quod
longo absit; but it appeared that the way to propi-
tiate a Monarch in the time of Henry VII. was by
lands. That Monarch conferred the title of Marquis
de Berkeley on the then Lord Berkeley, in considera-
tion of his levying a fine on his property to the use
of himself for life, remainder to the heirs male of
his body, remainder to Henry VII., and his heirs
male, remainder to the right heirs of the said Mar-
quis. The Marquis died without any issue, and the
barony of Berkeley devolved on the King by the
fine. Now if this was a barony by writ, it was evi-
dent that the title would devolve on the brother of
the Marquis ; but as the brother did not succeed to
the land, he never enjoyed the title, but died a com-
moner. Was not this an unanswerable proof that
it was not a barony by writ ? The honour merged
in the Crown, in consequence of its succeeding to
the land on the death of Henry VII. The barony
descended to Henry VIII., yet none of the Berkeley
family sat in the House of Lords until the 14th
year of that Monarch's reign, when the nephew of
the Marquis was created Lord Berkeley by writ, and
took his seat as a newly-created Peer. Thus, for
the period of thirty years, not one of the family sat •
in their Lordships' House, in consequence of the
land to whida the title was attached being in the
possession of the Crown. On the death of Edward
VI., the reversion of the Barony devolved on the
heirs-general of the Marquis de Berkeley; and it
appeared that, in the reign of Philip and Mary,
Henry Lord Berkeley was accordingly summoned
to Parliament, and took his seat, not as the heir of
the Lord who had been created by writ, but by vir-
tue of his tenure, for he enjoyed the same rank as
the ancient Barons de Berkeley. He (Mr.Broughain)
had now shown that this must have been a barony
by tenure of land, by the decision of a Court of
Justice in the case of the quo warranto, by the dig-
nity ceasing to exist in the family when the barony
was out of their possession, and by its revert-
ing to them along with the reversion of the
land. Some explanation should be given of
these facts, consistently with the arguments
on the other side, and inconsistently with his
.(Mr. Brougham's), or his case was proved. It
had been indignantly taunted, that no person ever
heard of a Peer sitting in that House by tight of
purchase; but in answer to that he would say, that
Bishops sat in that House as Barons by tenure, and
in no other way—nay, there was a Bishop who was
not entitled to sit in that House, because he had
not a barony; he meant the Bishop of Sodor and
Man; yet he had all the other rights of a Bishop;
an ordination by him was as good as one by the
Pope—(Laughter)—he had a right to sit in the
Convocation, but though he did not sit in the
English Parliament, he sat in the Manx Parliament.
He did homage to the Lord of Man. Now was it
not absurd that a subject could make a Bishop ?
Yet the Duke of Atholl could make a menial servant
a Bishop if he could get him ordained, and such a
Bishop would have a right to sit in the Convoca-
tion. A Bishop could not take his seat in that
House until be did homage to the King, for the
land which conferred the right of a seat in that
House was vested in the Crown, from the death of
the predecessor, until homage was done. From this
it was evident that those Bishops had their baronies,
not by force of their consecration or election, but by
force of the land, He entreated their Lordships to
dismiss front their consideration all the obligations
founded on inconvenience, for many sound rights of
prerogative would be superseded if such arguments
were allowed.

The agent of Colonel Berkeley was then called,
and deposed that Colonel Berkeley was in the pos-
session of the manor of Berkeley Castle, with its
appurtenances, and that the witness held the Court
there on behalf of the Colonel.
This closed the case on behalf of the claimant.
The further consideration of the subject was then
adjourned sine die.

rdr. WILLIAM MAYFIELD, of Martin Fen,
has a turkey cock which. has at upou 30 eggs the whote
' time, and brought off 20 bird5,.......,805t0n Gazette.

All are agreed that the English Theatre must be
spoken of as a thing that has been. Little interest
is now taken in theatrical representation; and the
talent of the nation has taken another direction.
The speculations to which this decline has given
rise are various. Some will have it that we have
outlived the period when the drama is fitting
enjoyment for the people ; and they instance
the provincial theatres, which, with better
founded claims for support than ever, are quite
deserted.. But, in this country, fashion is om-
nipotent ; and if in the metropolis the theatre
is no longer the mode, the country apes the me-
tropolis. The desertion of the country theatres,
therefore, merely proves that the people in the
country are determinta not to be behind the
people in town. If a taste for the theatre were
to revive in town it would extend to the'
country. Before we arrive at the sweeping con-
clusion that clue encouragement could not sti-
mulate dramatic genius, or that the display of
.genius;seeonded by good actors, would not be
successful in obtaining audiences, we ought first
to remove the obstacles in the way of the
attempt. The following observations on the
subject in the Monthly Magazine for June,
appear to us sensible. But then, of what use is
it to know the conditions on which we could
restore the drama, when we know, at the same
time, that the monopolies are too strong to be
overcome ? We look on the destruction of the
theatre as inevitable, because the monopolies are
too strong for the public :
The unequivocal decline of dramatic writing in
England has at length attracted the notice of indivi-
duals who are likely to offer the only hope of its
restoration. Though genius is not to be created by
human expedients, it is perfectly true that genius
may be thwarted by human obstacles to such a dc-
gree that it throws up the struggle, and retires in
contempt or despair.
It is impossible to believe that England is dest:-
tute of dramatic genius, or that it is more desti-
tute than it was during the last half century; or
that, with its various and active vigour of mind, it
cannot supply the general demands of any species of
literature.

The cause of our failure in the drama must be
looked for in the circumstances of theatres them-
selves. In the first place, fifty years ago our
winter theatres were comparatively small buildings,
in which the chief attraction must be the finished
style of the acting, or the dramatic interest of the
play. Within the last fifty years this system was
changed, the small theatre was distended into a»
enormous building, and the direct results of the
change were, theatrical debts for the building, in-
creased expences for the nightly performance, and
the necessity of pageants to attract the audience to
houses where, from the size, the pleasures of the
ear must be replaced by those of the eye. This
change has been charged on the late John Kemble,
But be must be relieved from the charge; for
DrurrJane Theatre had been built by Holland be-
fore Kemble had the remodelling of Covent-garden
after the fire, and Holland's theatre was more colos-
sal than Kemble's.

In England debt is always the first element of
ruin. The formidable expences of the theatres
soon compelled every species of temporary con-
trivance, to escape utter bankrup!cy. To fill the
enormous house for the moment, the most extrava-
gant anticipations of the future revenue were made,
and popular actors were engaged for short periods at
inordinate salaries; spectacle and pageantry became
the managerial resource; and upon a few leading
favourites, and a pantomime or melodrame, was
lavished the revenue which once had under wiser
management been spread over the season.
As the immediate consequence of the whole
system authorship• was neglecter!. The 'manager's
demand was for spectacle, which cost little in
the authorship, and required scarcely an effort
of the pen ; but which cost a vast deal in paint-
ing and processions, -and amply engrossed the car-
penters and dancers, and other mere supernumeraries
of the drama.

Dramatic writing is singularly difficult, and com-
paratively the work of a rare and peculiar kind of
talent. So far it must be stimulated by finding
that its labours are sufficiently remunerated. But
of all public writing, a play is the most liable to be
undone by the commonest contingency; the failure
of an actor in his part, a popular prejudice against
the writer or the subject, or any one of the commo:i
impulses that may urge the multitude to injustice or
absurdity, will totally destroy the labours of months
in an hour. In fact, dramatic writing, from its pe-
culiarity and from its extreme precariousness, ought
to have the prospect of larger emolument, in case of
success, than any other exertion of general literature.
There is as little doubt, also, that if it were ade-
quately encouraged by managers, its productiveness
would rapidly reward their largest remuneration to
the writer.

But in 'the present state of the case managers ex-
pend on a monkey or a pretty puppet, on a dancer
cr a droll, those resources which would enable them
to sustain a succession of original and able plays on
the stage. The whole secret of managerial success
lies in the power of obtaining the assistance of able
dramatists. Where tkat is neglected, riot all the
skill of all the scene-painters arid the spec-
tacle-contrivers on earth can redeem the theatre
from ruin.

The course has been run before our eyes a dozen
times within a dozen years. Every theatre i❑
London and round London has been plunged in de!-
perate difficulties, and the sponge has been in gene-
ral the ouly discharge of the manager.
The nature of property in plays also operates as a
formidable obstacle to exertion. It contradicts all
the rules of literary property. If an author produce
a book he has his right in it for life, and it is avail-
able for a certain period after his decease; and this
on the plain reason that the labour of the mind de-
serves protection as much as the labour of the
hands. But the dramatic writer has no such pro-
tection. If his play be performed at one London
theatre, it may be seized on by every theatre in
England, and be turned into a source of profit, no
part of which reaches the man most entitled to it.—
To take the instance of Colman's John Bull. For
this it is true that he received what was cen:;idered
at the time a very liberal remuneration—about
1,0001.; but Harris, the manager, declared that his
theatre cleared by-that play 12,0001., and, from its
long popularity in the country theatres, the probable
produce was not less than 50,000/. ! If Colman's
work had been called a novel, this interlopiry, upon
his property would have been arrested by the arm
of the law !

But the cue is not less unjustifiable when the
author chooses to publish his play before its per-
formance. From this moment any theatre may seize
upon it, not merely without any remuneration to*the
writer, but in despite of him; nay, where he had
never intended his play for representation, Mana-
gers, too, may not merely seize it wholly, but muti-
late it, and make it ridiculous m any way they
please. Ti:is outrage has been so long exclaimed
against, that an attempt is likely to be made in the
next Session to put the dramatist on a footing with