The Sun.
London, England, 1838-01-02 00:00:00

BY MURDO YOUNG,

(FURTHER EXTRACTS.)
SCENE—A Country Town.
( Enter Cumming and one of his Kinsmen.)
Comm' NG. —His thread is spun !—I told you %would be so.
KIN SNI 'tis not cut.
CUMMt %G.—, Disaster waits the summons ;
In br eathlesa expectation. Thoughtless man 1
Whir led in the giddy car of sudden fortune,
He s 7 mrnes its motion, and takes bolder flight—
But f Ilti-s in his daring—and is blasted !
Wits at et :owd is that with warlike banners flying ?
Kitssrsass,_They come this way
CUM fame
A women at their head !
They smug! be mad.
(Shouts of " Huzzdfor Independence !")
Enter FLOREM
Fecantan ta.—Come gallant friends—your country calls—"
And \S "allace leads her sons to victory r
Join W allace to revenge—
What to revenge ?
FLOREMI4 lA. --Our country's wrongs.
CUMMING • What wrongs?
FLOREMM4I.-- Are you a man—
And ask " wleat wrongs" when Scotland is enslaved
CUMMING.- —Ar,d who shall free her?
FLOREMMA. • Wallace and his friends.
The hills sesd vides are musical with " Wallace !"
And noug it is heard from women but " Revenge!"—
The wido vv's son takes down his father's sword
And rush es to the field without her blessing—
So eager is the rivalry to join him.
CUMMING.. —And be defeated for their pains;—then hanged
With W allace for rebellion.
FLOREMM/ Do lot fear,
But joi .n, and free your country; gain her blessing,
And long live honoured.
CUM AILNG...._ Honoured ? what, with him I
Can honour come with Wallace ?
YLOREIIIIA.-- Yes !—His heart
Is made of honour. 'Tis the sanctuary
Of magnanimity and public virtue—
Sublimed into enthusiastic zeal,
Which scorns all selfish views of worldly fortune,
To gain his country's blessing in her warfare.
Cummixo.—Did Wallace teach that pretty speech ?
FLOREMMA. Away !
CUMMING. —You much mistake the man.
&of:Emma.-- You I mistook.
I thought you had a sense of patriot shame ;
But I'm mistaken.
CUMMING. -- Know you who I am ?
FLOREMMA. —A slave in spirit—shaming manly form!
CummiNo.—Knovs, I'm the Cumming of the North
FLOREMMA. Then know,
I am the Gra'aam !
Cummeso._ What,—you 1
FLOR EM MA. Floremma Graham—
What dare you say against the Graham or Wallace ?
Cumin's°. —.r.;ro to you distaff I—and leave arms to men
Who loac,w to use them.
floaEms.sea„._ You are not a man.
CumsuNa..—l am a Chief!
FLonEM -- The more is your disgrace.
Cusimusn .—Go to your distaff! and leave arms to men—
Flortnalm A.__A woman may achieve where men are cowards,
Frearitarg to meet the danger they should conquer ;
int fly before it to inglorious safety
To mo urn their after-life—the scorn of women !
Ceram's:in.—Go to your distaff!—
FLOREm KA. Go 1 and hide your head
In sone dark corner 1 Scotland wants no slave
In lux proud cause !—the coward she disowns I
(Exit,, followed by Peasantry.)
SCENE—Stirling.
(Entev. Eliza and Floremma followed by a number of Ladies
dr esf2 in plaid, but having black scarfs over their heads and
hAn ging down loosely, to cover th,tplaid. All weaving laurel
cZ•fowns, and singing—)
Weave, maidens, weave the patriot's crown,
Of bays that bloom immortally !
For tyranny is overthrown,
And Scotland hath the victory !
The victory—the victory !
For tyranny is overthrown,
And Scotland bath the victory !
Prepare the bay and wake the strain
To greet the brave triumphantly I
For Scotia's maids can feel like men—
Her men like knights of chivalry 1
Of chivalry—of chivalry
For Scotia's maids can feel like men--
Her men like knights of chivalry 1
He comes ! he comes let music play
To glory's march harmoniously__.
For joy shall sing his praise to-day,
And time shall bless his memory
His memory—his memory I
For joy shall sing his praise to-day,
And time shall bless his memory !
(Faster Wallace at the head of his friends, marching on to
Stirling. The ladies change the tune and sing—)
Oh. blest be his march to the music of gladness,
Who comes in his might like the foam-rolling sea
And throws from our bosom the mantle of sadness,
(dn te
For joy hat's no bounds in the heart rop pi
of thefree s carfs)
!
Our spirit was broke as we bowed to the yoke,
And darkly in murmurs our country deplored;
When hope from the tomb snatched up liberty's plume—
And gave it to Wallace along with his sword 1
The cottage was dreary— and lonesome the palace,
Our king lay enchained in the dungeon of night ;
When briglst as the morn rose the banner of Wallace—
And Scotia rejoicing stood up in her might.
WALLACE.—On, friends !—for Stirling 1 (Exeunt all bin
C UM.MIN G.
CUN MING. And there hang thyself 1
Presumptuous demigod of dernidea ils—
And popular mark of wonder. How he struts I
As if the earth were conscious of his motion,—
And holds his head so high—as if the air
Were proud of tossing plumes of victory !
He now exults. So Both my soul exult
Ira the prophetic rapture of revenge
fie never seeks revenge in vain, who knows
To wait the season. When that comes, the devil
Prompts at his elbow—burning with dark joy
To seize the golden moment of desire !
They call this,—envy. I call it,—ambition,
That dares to mount the ladder of its hope.
We have no King—but Baliol. What is he?
A shadow I—Friend ? Down, conscience !—what of that ?
He blocks my passage to an empty throne—
Which woos inc on to immortality
And proud enjoyment—past the reach of conscience !
Bruce is a slave. I've nought to fear from him ;
His wings are clipt. Not so, this bird of freedom.
But I will oust the cuckoo from the nest
Of royalty : —and being seated there,
I will pluck Bsliol's feathers, ono by one,
'Till both his wings drop off. Meantime, for Wallace,
I'll raise a storm will blast his laurelled honours,
And dash the Regent's sceptre from his hand I (Exit.)
SCENE—Carlisle. An Apartment in the Castle.
(Enter Earls Gloucester and Surrey.)
GLorcEsTETt. —So then, my lord, the Scots have pluck'd up
And borrowed wings of fortune for a day Lspirit,
Of sweet revenge.
SURREY.-- They have, my lord of Gloucester;
And scour the country bravely. See, who comes.
High-minded Hereford, the Constable.
(Enter Hereford.)
linotroao.—A day of expectation, this, my lords.
CnouensTEß.—And splendour too, which some will weep to see.
Ilonaroarn—When is the King expected?
GLOUCESTER. -- Every moment.
Zlis couriers sound the note of preparation,
And Edward seldom wants the start of time.
Suoanv.—Never, if Scotland is the match between them.
For there his heart is set with love's first wish.
llEREFoßD.—Possession ?
SURREY—. Ay, unrivalled sweet possession.
ItEßEF"eo.—But then the lady seems not of his mind.-.--
A thing unusual when a monarch woos.
(Enter a Messeng.er.)
MESSENGER.—My lords, his Majesty is just arrived.—(Exit. )
GLOUCESTER. —Mad for revenge. But, Hereford, 't is whis-
You go to Flanders to supply his place, [pored,
While he's subduing Scotland,—and returns--.
HER6FORD. —To scoff at our demands But, am I gone ?
I will not stir one foot till England's charter
Of sacred liberty is first secured.
GLOUCESTER. -- No more will I.
SURREY. -- Nor I.
HEREFORD...—. We are resolved.
GLoucnsTErt.—And will not be put off by subterfuges.
SURREY.—Nor awed by bouncing threats.
HEREFORD. What I are we slaves ?
To crouch at frowns—and be driven here and there,
With Edward's whip of lightning o'er our heads ?
Ants—We'll not endure it !
HEREFORD. Soft—he comes.—All hail !

arms

(To be continued.)

LITERATURE.

female guide who accompanied the party, that he was
, a poet. Cathleen treated this with indignation as a
quiz. " Poet !' said she, devil a bit of it, but an
honourable gentleman—he gave me half-a-crown.'
Sir Walter Scott was received in Ireland with as much
'enthusiasm as if he had been in his own country, as
the subjoined extract will show :
On Thursday the 14th we reached Dublin in time for din-
ner, and found young Walter and his bride established in one
of these large and noble houses in St. Stephen's Green, (the
most extensive square in Europe), the founders of which little
dreamt that they should ever be let at an easy rate as garrison
lodgings. Never can I forget the fond joy and pride with
which Sir Walter looked round him, as he sat for the first time
at his son's table. I could not but recall Binder's lines, in
which, wishing to paint the gentlest rapture of felicity, he
describes an old man with a foaming wine-cup in his hand at
his child's wedding-feast.
" That very evening arrived a deputation from the
Society of Dublin, inviting Sir Walter to a public dinner ;
and next morning he found on his breakfast-table a letter from
the Provost of Trinity College (Dr. Kyle, now Bishop of
Cork), announcing that the University desired to pay him the
very high compliment of a degree of Doctor of Laws by di-
ploma. The Archbishop of Dublin (the celebrated Dr. Ma-
gee), though surrounded with severe domestic afflictions at
the time, was among the earliest of his visitors; another was
the Attorney-General ( now Lord Chancellor Plunkett) ;
third was the Commander of the Forces, Sir George Mur-
ray, and a fourth the Chief Remembrancer of Exchequer (the
Right Honourable Anthony Blake), who was the bearer of a
Message from the Marquis Wellesley, then Lord-Lieutenant
of Ireland, offering all sorts of facilities, and inviting him to
dine next day at his Excellency's country residence, Malahide
Castle. It would be endless to enumerate the distinguished
persons, who, morning after morning, crowded bin levee in St.
Stephen's Green. The courts of law were not then sitting;
and most of the Judges were out of town ; but all the other
great functionaries, and the leading noblemen and gentlemen
of the city and its neighbourhood, of whatever sect or party,
hastened to tender every conceivable homage and hospitality.
But all
this was less surprising to the companions of his jour-
ney (though to say truth, we had, no more than himself,
counted
on such eager enthusiasm among any class of Irish
s°"etY), than the demonstrations of respect which, after the
first day or two, awaited him, wherever he moved, at the
hands of the less elevated orders of the Dublin population.
Ifhis carriage was recognised at the door of any public esta-
blishment, the street was sure to be crowded before he came
out again, so a, to make his departure es slow as a procession.
When be entered a street, the watchword was passed down
both sides like lig,thtning, and the shopkeepers and their wives
stood bowing
and courtesying all the way 'down ; while the
mob and bO3,
huzza'd as at the chariot-wheels of a conqueror.
I had certainly been most thoroughly unprepared for finding
the common people of Dublin so alive to the claims of any
non-military greatness. Sir Robert Peel says, that Sir Wal-
ter's reception on the High street of Edinburgh, in August,
1822, was the first thing that gave him a notion of the elec-
tric shock of a nation's gratitude.' I doubt if even th:.t
scene surpassed what I myself witnessed when he returned
down Dame-street, after inspecting the Castle of Dublin."
The most characteristic portion of this volume is
Walter Scott's " Diary," which for
undoubtedly Sir
its earnestness, simplicity, and the tone of unaffected
sincerity that pervades it, we prefer even to Byron s,
as we found it in Moore's Memoirs of that great poet.

(Flourish of Trumpets.)
(Enter Edward.)
EDWARD.--Where is the younger Bruce ? I have suspicions
That this young chief will play the fox at last.
No double-dealing here. He must pay homage,
Ere Scotland's crown- is moulded to his brow,
Else he may shape it for himself without us.
I like not such young birds to try their wings
Before we fasten something to their feet.
To check the exultation of their flight.—
Per Bruce betrays the eagle's nature in him,
And keeps a longing eye on lofty places.
But here he comes.

(Enter Bruce.)
For Scotland's royal crown,
Before we grant it by our special favour,
Pay homage—in the presence of our nobles. (Bruce kneels.)
Now swear to bring the force of Carrick forth,
With all thy friends to battle on our side.
BRUCE.---I swear, my liege.—Vouchsafe me now the crown.
EDW ARD.—The crown?—
What is its value, Bruce, w ithout a people ?
,n We must win them before 'tis worth the wearing.
~""CE.—So soon !—how will this end ? (Aside.)
cow nap.— Collect thy force!
We speed to glory on the wings of conquest.
(Bruce slowly retires in deep thought.

TILE LLLuodlitz A requisition from a body of the
inhabitants
has been sent to the Mayor, to call a
meeting for the purpose of taking into consideration the pro-
priety of petitioning the two Houses of Parliament to pass rn
Act, directing that all votes for the election of Members to
serve in Parliament be taken by Ballot.

GLOUCESTER.—NOW the proud Scot puts spurs to Edward's
SURREY.—And kisses them in gratitude of heart. [heels.
HEREFORD.—Craven 1 depart—and shame us not with fawning
GLOUCESTER.—Mora worthy of a halter than a crown !
SUaREY.—And wasps to sting, than men to pay thee honour.
HEREFORD.—The Scots have too much si i it to receive thee.
BRECE.—StiIi must I bear with these imperious barons ?
HEREFORD,—Go, slave! and learn the freeman's song from
Wallace.
ERUCE.—(ASide)-011,wouldto God, I were with Wallace now,
But lam chained, and under Edward's sword. (Exit.
ED ARD.—Well, Lords !—am Ito wait your pleasure here—
Or you attend on mine ?
HEREFORD.— Most sovereign liege
We have long waited—and still wait in vain
Your royal pleasure in our humble suit.
EDWARD.—This is E 0 Cto talk of grievances,
When sear knocks at the gate, nor waits our coming,
But bursts the lock and rudely rushes in.
When peace returns, I will look to your claims :
I
pass my word.
HEREFORD.-- So did your Majesty
Before last war : and gentle peace returned
Without your acquiescence.
EDWARD But events
Squared not with expectation.
HEREFORD.-- Nor, m) liege,
Has fortune ever fill'd ambition's measure.
EDWA P.D.—Faith, so it seems
HEREFORD.— And may be so hereafter.
Then, please you, out of magnanimity,
Now to redeem your promise in this matter.
EDWARD.—What wouldyoudietate how your King should act?
HEREFORD.—No, good my liege; but we request our rights,—
The business of a moment—sign the charter.
EDWARD.—And burn it too !
ALT..— You shall not burn our rights !
EDWARD.—I must dissemble. (Aside.) Pray, what are your
rights ?
ALL.—The rights of men, and dignity of nobles.
EDWARD.—So warm, and so united, will not do:
I must divide. (Aside.) My lord of Hereford,
Your presence is of consequence in Flanders,
Where my departure left some weighty matters
Requiring your activity and wisdom.
HEREFORD.—I go, my liege :—but, first, vouchsafe our suit.
EDWARD.—I say, depart for Flanders, instantly !
HEREFORD.—Whet, our request is granted—not before !
EDWARD.—Bv God, Sir Earl, then you shall go, or hang
HEREFORD.—By God, Sir King! I'll neither go nor hang.
EDWARD.--Depart my presence, traitor I on your life.
HEREFORD.— I am no traitor, nor will brook the name.
As for my life, it rests upon my sword! (Exit.)
EDWARD.—Where go ye, Lords ?
Out of your presencP, Majesty.
EDWARD,—What are you rebels too?
LORDS.— When kings would tyrannise.

(Exeunt Lords.)
EDWARD..—Thus I am thwarted in my plans of greatness !
And by these very instruments whose temper
Was edged to cut my passage out to glory.
Ambition must not handle them too roughly,
Or they will cut his fingers.—'Tis a pity,
They are not made of less important matter,
And, by the cross ! I would whip off their heads
With as much coolness as I trim my nails.
But those rebellious Scots 1 I'll singe their beards
Before the ravens dine.—What—ho !—in waiting?
(Enter Lord in Waiting. )
EDWARD.—Command Lord Hereford to send the charter,
That I may sign it. Death 1 I'm robbing wasps,
Which sting the more as madness perseveres.
I'd sign five hundred charters straight—and smile !
Before those Scots should laugh my threats to scorn.
But if I yield one grain of quenchless pride,
'Twill be to reap a harvest of revenge.
(Re-enter Lord.)
Hand here !--•
My liege, Lord Hereford disdains
To have the charter signed clandestinely.
He says that England's spirit will not brook
To have her birthright smuggled in the dark;
But granted freely, like the light from heaven,
Or scorn the boon. (Exit.)
EDWARD.--. Perdition blast their pride !
When once the winds are up they know no bounds—
But whistle down distinction. Shall I crush
These rebels here—and leave the Scots unpunishel,—
Of bend to these ?

LOCKHART'S LIFE OF SCOTT—VoL. VI.
Cadell, Edinburgh, 1837.
ANTe have just received the sixth volume of the Life
of Scott, which contains matters of interest in every
page, though that interest is no longer of .7_ cheerful
charze:er. The catastrophe is deepening to its close.
Scott has ceased to be the lordly, light-hearted owmer
of Abbotsford ; the wizard ruler of the realms of
fiction ; we see him here the disappointed man of the
world ; stripped of nearly all his fortune, and oppressed
with a weight of matter-of-fact sorrows, and business
annoyances, that might break the back of an Atlas.
Yet ne still maintains a gallant front, and stoutly bears
up against all. His " Diary," descriptive of the
anxious and feverish state of mind he was in, while it
was yet problematical whether Constable and the Bah.
lantynes would sink or swim, contains some of the
most powerful touches of nature we have ever met with.
Nor are his frequent allusions to the death of his wife—
who had been the sharer of his joys and sorrows for
nearly thirty years—less impressive ; some of them
indeed are of so deeply pathetic a character, that it is
next to impossible to peruse them without tears. We
turn, however, from the sadder portions of the volume
to those of a more cheerful complexion. The follow-
ing anecdote is admirable. Scott, we should premise,
had been, when in Ireland, to see the famous St.
Kevin's cave, to which he was accompanied by his
friend Mr. Plunkett. " After he had quitted the
cave," says his biographer, " Mr. Plunkett told the

MAGAZINES CONTINUED,

LARDNER'S CYCLOPEDIA, No. 98.
Longman, London, 1838.
The volume before us is a descriptio❑ of the habits
and peculiarities of '' Animals in Menageries." It is
the production of Mr. Swainson, who has executed
his task in a very careful and spirited manner. The
title-page contains an engraving of the .cameleopard,
executed by Finden.

MONTHLY REPOSITORY.
This is the best Number of the Repository that has
ye made its appearance—Nye do not mean as regards
its politics, which are of too ultra-radical a character,
but its literary prose and verse, each of which is excel-
lent. "An Analysis of Simple Apprehension," is a
metaphysical essay, suggested by a passage o❑ the sub-
ject of abstract ideas in one of Mill's works. " The
Protestant Burial Ground at Rome" is a poem de-
scriptive of Shelly's place of interment. It is written
with feeling, aild in a chaste and elegant manner. We
extract one or two of the stanzas:—
And in that comer, far remote
From all that traffic makes unholy,
A little silent town appears,
A spot where dwell the peaceful solely.
No sound through that chaste air may float,
Save some far belfry's sober knellings ;
And gentle flow'rets, nursed with tears,
Form tangled gardens round those dwellings.
One side this quiet realm, extends
The wall that girt that throne of glory
To which all nations once bent down,
Though now 'tis only known in story;
And towards that fence the ground ascends
Gently, and by its slope, discloses,
At one regard, that voiceless town,
'Twist paths of rosemary and roses.
And on the top of that fair slope,
Recessed beneath a broken tower,
A poet's final bed is made,
Meet sanctuary of parted power;
With blue infinity its cope,
And rich in all his rest requires,
A little sun, a little shade,
Cypresses, fringing grass, and briars.
" A Tale of the Garden Bower at Amalfi" bears
traces of a female pen in the purity of its sentiments
and the grace and delicacy of its style. In the
" Thoughts for the Thoughtful" we have met with
one remark which reminds us of Swift's best and
shrewdest aphorisms :—'' All are ready to punish
a bad action ; few to reward a good one." If the
future Numbers of the Repository are as good as the
present, it will take a foremost rank among the perio
Weals of the day.

TIE EDUCATIONAL MAGAZINE.
A useful and unpretending Journal, in which some
of the more glaring defects of the modern system of
education are pointed out in a very able manner. There
is also a well-written essay, entitled " Boarding-school
Education, What it should be," which is from the pen
of a lady named Erskine.

THE SUN, LONDON, TUESDAY, JANUARY 2, 1838.