The Sun.
London, England, 1862-03-03 00:00:00

HANDEL FESTIVAL.

It has been announced for some time pas'that the ticket
offices at the Crystal Palace and at Exeter Hall would be
simultaneously opened this morning, for the sale of tickets,
for the festival.

At an early hour a large number of persons were in
waiting at both places, prepared with cash to take up the
tickets they desired.
At Exeter Hall they were shown into the Lower Hall, at
the Crystal Palace into the larger board rooms, each appli-
cant receiving a number, and in the order of arrival they
were introduced to the ticket clerks in a separate office, le-
tiring by another door.
Applications, enclosing remittances from the country,
were attended to alternately with personal applications, the
latter receiving the odd numbers, the former the even num-
bers.

The stream of personal applicants waiting at one time at
each place varied from about 50 to 100 persons, but from
the numerical regulations the issue of tickets proceeded
with the greatest regularity and without the least crowding.
Up to the time of going to press it was impossible to learn
the exact amount of money received for tickets, but on a
rough calculation it exceeded £6,000.
The committee have issued a notice requesting applicants
from the country to refrain from stipulating for seats in
particular blocks; for, although from the acoustic improve-
ments being carried out all will hear well, it is evident
applications from a distance will receive the most prompt
attention by the selection of seats being left to the com-
mittee.

THE Corm CIL OF MILITARY
EDUCATION.

TO THE EDITOR OF THE DAILY NEWS.

Sir—l take the liberty of forwarding you the amount of
money voted last year for the Council of Military Educa-
tion.

Vice Tresident ,
Three members at £600
One member , 485 18 9
_ _

One secretary
Clerks 483 12 6

Office-keepers, &c.
Pay of examiners* ..
Occasional examiner
Travelling expenses

500 0 0
2,805 0 0
100 0 0
200 0 0

Total £7,774 11 3

True
"that
This amount of the public money is now, apparently at
et published h
least, expended without any return to the nation—at least
none that can be known; ne accounts rendered, no annual
rep
mostly Pd; all is silence.
those who are supposed to be reported are
departments ;" still of those even we,
the public, have a right to know something. as we are the
paymasters.-1 am, sm, VERITAS.
,

* Examine what?

Blackwood's Magazine.
" Chronicles of Carlingford" is continued,!nnd the
young minister makes the acquaintance of Lady
Western. Great skill is shown in the delineation
of character, and the scene in the parlour of the
Tozer's is most naturally described. The dismay
and horror with which the refined and educated
man regarded these vulgar folks may be imagined,
and the bitterest thought of all was, that these
were the elite of hie congregation, the stars of mag-
nitude in the horizon. Also, the relation of his visit
to Lady Western is, a good sketch, and exhibits one
of those rapid transitions from romance to reality
which so often befall the young and ardent. There is
an article on "Lord Castlereagh." He is spoken of
in high terms. "We do not hesitate to affirm that
Lord Castlereagh was the greatest Foreign Minister
that England ever had ; no Minister ever had to con-
front greater perils or difficulties ; none ever accom-
plished such great icesults a his lame has been long
obscured hy the unscrupulous antagonism of party,
but these volumes of the distinguished historian of
Europe come at the right time, and will not fail
successfully to establish the noble patriotism and
transcendent statesmanship of the great Minister."
At the conclusion of this article a deserved tribute
of admiration is paid to their author. This passage
is most gratifying, as it is always interesting to
mark a sustained intercouse and unshaken friend-
ship between those who are related in literary
pursuits. It is thus mentioned :
_ _ _

It would ill become us to close our review of this last
work of Sir Archibald Alison, without a warm and well-
earned tribute to the man who is now the last survivor of
the galaxy of writers who contributed to the early numbers
of the magazine. Wilson, Lockhart, Hamilton, Galt,
Croly, Hogg, Delta, De Quincey—those old familiar faces,
who still look down upon us from the picture-frames in
Ebony's saloon—have all passed to their rest. Sir Archi-
bald alone is left—still strong and vigorous, we are happy
to say, and strong and vigorous rr^y he long remairr.l
Forty-three years have passed since, whilst a youth, his
literary talent sufficed to enrol him among the contributors
to Maga. Since then, Maga and he have grown old toge-
ther—the mutual friendship has' stood the strain alike of
time and circumstances—and we rejoice to see the victor's
wreath encircling the brows of one who first won his spurs
in the service of Maga. As we turn over the pages of past
volumes, we recognise the "Roman hand" of Sir Archibald
with a frequency second only to that our venerated
" Christopher North" himself. The last of a good race, we
greet him. And with natural pride we love to recognise
in the veteran historian of Europe a life-long contributor
to these pages, and the youth who, three-and-forty years
ago, commenced his literary career and his connection with
Maga with articles on the National Monument and Robert
the Bruce, in which the style of the now distinguished
historian may be seen already formed in the coups-d'essai
of the youthful essayist.
" Translations of the Odyssey" forms the subject of
a paper. It is entertaining, and affords much
information on classical topics. It is truly stated
that " Homer, at any rate, is in no present danger
of neglect. If seven Greek cities quarrelled over
his imaginary bones, no less than six English
scholars are now trying their hands in (we hope)
amicable rivalry, in translating him." "Charac•
teristics of Language" is a paper that may al tract the
reader from its ingenious remarks and quaint ideas.
We meet with this curious suggestion at the end of
the essay :

Thus we are inclined to think that if there is any founda-
tion of truth for this fancy of sex in language, that the high
type represents the feminine, and the low type the mascu-
line clement. The words high and low themselves would
be perhaps as well rendered by sharp and flat, as their
signification has a musical analogy. The high type may
be more feminine than the low or the bass, as the voices of
women are higher than those of men. Perhaps time will
unravel this strange riddle of language. It will be indeed
marvellous if it be discovered that language reflects man,
not only in his organisation generally, but in his sexual
relationship ; and that the study of language is thus in all
completeness the study of the mental history of man, mak-
ing the complement to ethnology or the study of his phy-
sical history, and both together comprising the natural his-
tory of the highest of God's creatures. History, commonly
so called, is a record only of the actions and conscious
words of men, and may itself be coloured according to the
writer's bias or mannerism. Language is a history of the
thoughts and unconscious words of men, and must he a true
record, because, like the facts of nature, its characters have
been traced by the finger of the Creator,
" Caxtoniana" is continued; the present part is not
so good as the first. Many will not agree that
monotony is a source of happiness," which is the
theme of the first essay, and the latter one will suit
those who are pleased with the Strange Story, as
it is entitled, the " Normal Clairvoyance of the
Imagination." " Classic or Gothic; the Battle of
the Styles," is a learned treatise that contains
some appropriate remarks. After specifying the
points of discussion and disagreement, the writer
winds up with an eloquent exordium as to the
neutral ground on which all real lovers of art may
meet. It is forcibly argued that "the principles of
truth, beauty, and goodness have laid for every style
of architecture the same foundation. We have stood
upon Mars Hill and looked upon the Acro-
polis, when sunset robed the sky of the
.IBgean Sea, or when the moon rode high
above the queen of night, and we have known
how great, and withal how good were those
classic arts which enshrined the gods of Greece,
We have stood beneath the dome of St. Peter's,
dazzling with gold and rich with coloured marbles.
We have paused in the majestic nave of Milan
Cathedral, solemn in Gothic shadows, and have
bowed the head and bent the knee before the sur-
passing glory of those arts which witness to the
faith of Christendom. Blessings be upon all these
forms of beauty, peace, and blessedness, from a
heart made grateful. Let strife and battle cease,
and to the harmony of nature's ways may we con-
form the concord of the arts." There is a collec-
tion from some of David Wingate's poems and
songs, which is well worthy of attention.
"The Miner's Morning Song" is a stirring in-
vocation to the sons of toil, and the lines on
" The Little Brother" are touching and truthful.

A MINER'S MORNING BONG.
Ar'se I brother miner! 'Twas only a dream.
That hum of green woodlands, that stroll by the stream
Some joy-loving fairy, in portraiture gay,
Hath shown thee by night what thou seest not by day.
Yet, brother, despair not, the hours will pass o'er ;
We'll rise, as the day wanes, to gladness once more.
Suppress those deep sighs, brother, though it may be
The fate of thy kinsman is waiting for thee ;
O'er sorrows untasted 'tis folly to brood ;
We must, like thy kinsman, brave danger for food.
Then up and be stirring ; like serf-men of yore,
We'll rest when we've plodded our portion once more.
Be cheerful, poor brother I I've heard of a land
Where no over• labour e'er blisters the hand ;
A land where no fetters of slavery are seen,
Where the grindstone of tyranny never hath been.
Perhaps we'll go there when our ploddings are o'er,
And then we'll be weary-bon'd miners no more.

LITTLE BROTHER-A SONG FOR LITTLE CHILDREN.
Oh I come, let us lay all our playthings aside,
And sing of our brother again ;
We will sing how he once in our games join'd with pride,
Forgetting his cough and his pain.
But he's gone far away to the land of the stars—
All his moaning and weeping are o'er ;
And till death the bright portals of glory unbars,
We shall see little brother no more.
Little brother was kind, with a manner so sweet,
And his ringlets so £•irylie fell;
Oh I we always were happy together to meet,
For we lov'd little brother so well.
But he's gone far away, &c.
Little brother could sing, and 'twas pleasant to hear
Him join in the hymn or the song ;
Ah I we never once deem'd his departure so near,
Nor thought he'd be absent so long.
But he's gone far away, &c.
No more we'll for him gather primroses gay—
Little brother of flowers was so fond ;
Now, he's gathering bright flowers that will ne'er fade away,
Yonder hills of white clouds far beyond.
For he's gone far away, &c.
No more shall he gaze on the far-flying kite,
Whose string to his carriage was bound;
Nor smile in his chair, on the long winter night,
When the guess or the story goes round.
For he's gone far away, &c.
We must all be good children, and swear not, nor lie,
And always from quarrelling refrain,
And so, one by one, to the star-land we'll fly,
And meet little brother again.
For he's gone far away to the land of the stars,
He has passed through the valley of pain ;
And when death the bright portals of glory unbars,
We shall meet little brother again.

The Dublin Magazine.
The first article is on the subject of " Mr. Gold-
win Smith on the Colonies." It contains some
striking truths, and ably exposes the errors which
are contained in the propositions of that gentleman.
He calls upon England at once to make herself " the
mother of free nations by casting off from her side
a set of colonies as costly as they are now become
profitless." This extraordinary remark is justly
commented on, and the following remarks are most
succinct and to the purpose, calling attention to the
fallacy that lies at the root of the argument, and
justly satirising the stultifying process that is
recommended:

It is, indeed, a new thing to hear a high-class teacher of
English youth outdo the pitiful cant of the Tease Society
by a line of argument which any Englishman of average
intellect and middling patriotism should scorn to follow.
It is needful to dismember the British empire, because this
colony or that dependency, these islands or those strong-
holds, are a stumbling block to the greed, or a standing re•
proach to the pride of this or the other nation l The
Spaniard, as he waxes strong, will look resentfully at the
Rock of Gibraltar ; therefore let him have it without more
ado. The American slaveholder will cast wolfish eyes on
Jamaica; why should we baulk him of his heart's desire ?
TheYaokees are for ever on the point of quarrelling with us,
because Canada is ours, not theirs; let us save the fox from
all chance of further sinning by straightway dropping the
grapes into his mouth. Such, in not very different words,
is the counsel offered us by Mr. Goldwin Smith. On the
very same principle, let is advise him in return to present
his watch to the first thief wtt.)se hand may come too near
his pocket, and 1,2 trow away his arms when he sees a
party of Burglars trying the fastenings of his'pantry door.
"A Souvenir of Chapelizod" is continued at some
length, and we meet with scenes of all descriptions;
there are some love passages, some stormy meetings,
• • •