The Sun.
London, England, 1854-01-06 00:00:00

ASTLEYS AMPHITHEATRE.

The present combined attractions at Astley's, excel-
ling, as they do, almost any of former years, at this old
but favourite establishment, brought together last even-
ing, which was set aside as "a grand juvenile night,"
one of the most numerous, and, we may add, enthusias-
tic audiences of the season. Interesting family groups
graced every part of the house, and it was pleasant to
see how they were alternately delighted and surprised
at the different performances. Nothing could be better
adapted for the entertainment of the youth of both sexes
than the first spectacle, The Wise Elephants of the East,
which introduces the tumbling elephants of Mr. Wm.
Cooke. 'Then the "scenes in the circle" here, which
are well known to be superior to any in the country,
have recently received some most important additions,
which are both excellent and novel ; and as to the pan-
tomime of Billy Button's Journey to Brentford, the best
praise that can be awarded ,to it is that it
is the production of thelprince of pantomime authors,
Mr. Nelson Lee, and is put upon the stage with all the
equestrian and scenic resources of the indefatigable
lessee," which we need scarcely say are almost inex-
haustible.

TO THE MEMORY OF THE DUKE OP

WELLINGTON:*

The blush of shame is on thy country's brow.
Stern Champion of the right, we miss thee now ;
Whilst Statesmen change, to nought but Interest true ;
Pensive we turn away and sigh for you.
Mourn—not for him who sleeps by Nelson's side,
But mourn our honour lost when Wellesley died.
Ay, thou hast pass'd in glory to the grave,
Dear to the wise and idol of the bravo :
But we, alas ! forgot that thou must
For Fear might never come when thou wart nigh ;
And prescient of her fate, with fond regret
The land he saved invokes her hero yet.
Had he—the Duke—been here, these timid men
Had shar'd his strength, and Valour triumph'd then ;
Spurn'd false Duplicity and mean Delay,
And met the haughty spoiler on his way.
Back to his hold had shrunk the baffl'd Czar,
Or Briton's rush'd indignant to the war.
Ay, Peace or War, not this vile, middle state—
These strange Allies, that bid the Victim wait ;
Fools, who would win redress without a blow,
And teach refinement to a barbarous foe,
Beseeching, if ho will not yield the prey,
At least to look as gentle as ho may ;
Not tear the morsels thus in savage mood,
But pause and say a grace before his food.
Diplomacy, men smile when thou art near,
But, ah, thy blunders cost the world too dear ;
Go back to school and learn thy task by rote,--
Four mighty powers that cannot pen a note I
A grave professor puzzling o'er the strings,
To mend the broken harmony of Kings.—
Fie on such scenes !—a few plain words from him
Whose voice is silent now, whose eyes are dim,
Had done what those poor drivellers cannot do,
Who've lost old friends and will disgust the new.
Peace is not bought•by flattery or gold,
False to the coward, constant to the bold.
Woo to that realm, foredoom'd the invader's prey,
Where wealth increases but where men decay.
Trust me, a generous policy is best.
Ah, choose tho one straight path and leave the rest.
Let the vain Tribune, in an evil hour,
Win fools' applause and risk a nation's power.
His fluent words, do all the Sophist can,
Will never make an angel from a man.
One poor mad worm, who plays the God below,
Can anger Heaven, and fill the world with woe.
The hour perchance may come, when they that sneer
At danger, distant now, may learn to fear,
Confess that strength may be a useful thing,
And haste to shelter under Valour's wing.
When Goth or Gaul aro thundering at the gate,
Will Bright stand forth the Champion of the State ?
When Stamboul holds the Tartar for her guest,
Will Cobden save the Empress of the West ?•
France leagu'd with England, why these fond alarms ?
Hotspur and Douglas match the world in arms.
Nor have we_yet to learn, through good or ill,
Our word once pledged we must maintain it still.
That war's an evil, none but fools deny ;
But, sure, the greater evil is—a lie !
Wrapt in his native mists, and lost to sight,
Our gentle Premier woos the silent Night ;
(Thus Numa, sheltering in the Egerian grove,
Fled from the World to Wisdom and to Love,)
Lot despots speak the truth and scorn disguise,
Freedom is coy, and loves not jealous eyes.
Tile rude Assembly and the loud debate,
Distract the Council and embroil the State ;
Whilst honied words, and meek, submissive mien,
Will soothe the tyrant and divert his spleen.
The New World stands erect, sublime, and bold,
But we must be more supple in the old.
Some future day, both Peace and Honour lost,
The mute will find his tongue and count the cost ;
Explain, sweet innocent, as best he can,
The nice distinction 'twist the gull and man ;
Show how he trusted to the word of kings,
Nor thought the Czar could do such naughty things :
He knew the people were perverse and bad,
But never dreamt a monarch could be be mad !
How far'd it erst, lot gallant Gordon say,
With injur'd Canning and with haughty Grey ?
To each in turn the hour of danger came,
Each lov'd his country and upheld her fame ;
But now, despis'd by all and brav'd by one,
Her glory ended when her fears begun.
Unnerv'd by Luxury, indolent and old,
As some poor dotard counts his hoarded gold,
Once known on floods and tented fields afar,
Now trembling at the very name of war ;
So we, spoilt sons of Fortune, court repose,
And shun the toils by whioh our fathers rose.
A generous passion warms our breast no more,
Self is the only Idol we adore ;
In fancied safety from our narrow isle
We see the nations perlsh with a smile ;
The funds are England's pulse, and Peace her cry,
The price may be Dishonour,—but we buy.
See great Atrides, in Imperial pride,
Laugh at the trembling hero he defied ;
Whilst Austria half forgets her own disgrace
To dupe her friend, then slap him on the face :
And yon poor dreamer, who embrac'd the dead,
Looks doubtful on and pats his godsons head.
And yet, Britannia, yet thy thunders sleep,
Nor rouse the angry echoes of the deep :
A few big words to show the coward's rage,—
The actor strutting on his own small stage.
A note—a threat—and now the farce is done.—
It was not thus that Wellesley's field's wore won,
Not thus from Chatham's hand the bolt was hurl'd,
Or Cromwell bade defiance to the world ;
Nor is it thus, across the Atlantic tide,
Columbia speaks with Freedom at her side.
London, Sept. 1853.

* The Lays of Modern Rome. Chapman and Hall, Piccadilly.

RISE IN THE PRICE OF BREAD.—Yesterday the greater
portion of bakers in the metropolis raised the price of
bread one penny, and, in a few instances, even as much
as three-halfpence in the quartern loaf. During the
week good wheaten bread has been sold at Bd. to 84d.
the 41b. loaf for good seconds, and from 94d to 104 d. has
been charged for best bread at the West-end. Very
little or no bread can now be obtained for less than 94d.,
and a great number of the second-rate bakers charge as
high as 10d. to 104 d. The West-end bakers are now
charging from 104 d. to 12d. per quartern. This rise
will be greatly felt by the poorer classes—more especially
by the families of bricklayers, stonemasons, plasterers,
carpenters, slaters, &c., as the hard frost which has pre-
vailed has caused operations to be stopped at such places
where those classes are engaged.
MAILS FOR INDIA, AUSTRALIA, &C., BY THE OVER-
LAND ROUTE.—The Peninsular and Oriental Company's
steam-ship Ripon, which started from Southampton on
the 4th inst., took out an unusually bulky mail, the total
number of boxes on this occasion having amounted to
390, measuring in the aggregate 33 tons. Of these, 287
were for ports in Australia (there being 132 for Melbourne
alone) ; the total number for the Mediterranean, India,
and China was therefore not more than 103. Doubtless
this large mail would have been considerablyaugmented
but for the non-delivery in London on Wednesday
morning of the letters from Liverpool, Manchester, and
the north, owing to the extraordinary state f the
weather. The Marseilles portion of the mail to be des-
patched from London on the 9th inst., which will over-
take the Ripon at Malta, will probably consist of about
150 additional packages, so that the total bulk of the
mails to be conveyed by the Ripon will fall little short
of 50 tons.